David tried to control his breathing, but he was losing the battle. He felt his muscles tense, and he thought the snakes reacted. The one on his forearm was creeping up his arm more quickly now, toward his shoulder, his neck, his face. He took another shallow breath. He wouldn’t inhale fully—the contraction could alarm them. Slowly, he let the air escape his nose, and he focused his mind on the place where the breath touched the tip of his nose, observing the sensation, the absence of any other feeling. He stared straight ahead, at a dark spot on the floor. There was one last tingle, at his collarbone, but he kept his mind on his breath, taking in and breathing out, the sensation as the air met the tip of his nose. He couldn’t feel the snakes.
Through his peripheral vision, he was vaguely aware of the chief pacing toward him.
“You are afraid, but you have control of your fear. No rational man walks the world without fear. Only those who control their fear live a life free of it. You are a man that has lived among snakes and learned to hide himself. You are a man who can tell lies, who can tell them as if you yourself believe them. That is very dangerous. At this moment, more for you than for me.” The chief nodded to the snake handler, who crept carefully toward David and collected the snakes.
The chief sat across from David. “Now you can lie to me, or you can speak the truth. Choose wisely. I have seen many liars. And I have buried many liars.”
David told the story he had come there to tell, and when he had finished, the chief looked away, seeming to contemplate.
In his mind, David began rifling through the chief’s possible questions, mentally preparing responses. But no questions came. The chief stood and left.
Three men rushed into the tent, seized David, and dragged him out toward a communal fire that burned in the center of the makeshift village. The tribespeople gathered as he passed. Just before they reached the fire, David got his feet under him and threw the man on his right off, but the man holding his left arm held tight. David hit him hard in the face and the man released his grip and fell listless into the sand. David turned, but three more soldiers were on him, dragging him to the ground, covering him, holding his arms. Then someone else loomed over him—the chief. Something rushed down, a sword, or a spear. It burned orange and smoke rolled off of it. The chief plunged the burning iron prod into David’s chest, sending waves of searing pain throughout his body and the sickening smell of burning flesh and hair into his nose. David fought not to gag as his eyes rolled back into his head and he lost consciousness.
CHAPTER 43
Immari Sorting Camp
Marbella, Spain
Kate was safe, or so she thought. The tall British soldier, Adam Shaw, had killed the other guard and… he knew her name.
“Who are you?” Kate said.
“I’m the fifth man from the SAS team sent here to retrieve you.”
“The fifth—”
“We had a bit of a disagreement over tactics. I submitted that we should alter our plans after the Immari invasion of Marbella. The other four didn’t listen.”
Kate eyed his uniform. “How did you—”
“There’s a lot of confusion right now. A lot of new faces. We’ve been studying the Immari Army organization extensively. I knew enough to fake it. Getting the uniform was easy. Just had to kill one of them. Speaking of.” He bent over the dead guard. “Help me get his uniform off.”
Kate eyed the dead man. “Why?”
Shaw nodded to her. “Seriously? You want to walk out of here in that? Any idiot can see you sliced up a chef’s jacket, and even if you can’t see it, by God you can smell it a kilometer away. You’re a walking compost heap.”
Kate raised her shoulder and tried casually to sniff the white coat. Yeah, it was less than fresh. The overwhelming stench in the kitchen had apparently numbed her to the smell for a bit.
Shaw handed her the man’s tunic, then stripped off the pants and held those up as well.
Kate hesitated. “Turn around.”
He smiled. “Let me guess, Kate. Two well-shaped boobs, an unnaturally flat stomach, and toned legs. I’ve seen it before, Princess. I had the internet before the plague.”
“Well my body isn’t on the internet, so turn around.”
He shook his head and turned his back to her.
Kate thought he mumbled something about “prudish Americans.” She ignored him as she slipped into the uniform. It was slightly too large, but it would do. “What now?”
“Now I complete my mission—to take you to London. You’ll complete the research, find a cure for this nightmare, and the world will live happily ever after. I’ll get a picture with the Queen, et cetera, et cetera. Assuming you don’t make any other stupid moves, we’ll be okay.”