The World's Next Plague
Pauley paused, then continued, “He says these Jombi would return with super-human strength. I think we might call it hyperactive adrenalin. Without a tremendous amount of meat to consume, though, the metabolism of their overactive body consumed itself from the inside, and the Jombi would die within days.”
“He claims to have access to a cure which will calm, and eventually remove, the aggressiveness. Once the Jombi no longer feel the urge to attack, they are no longer a threat.”
“Unfortunately, Tanis says the Jombi have now evolved. He told me is had something to do with bugs, but I did not understand what he was talking about. These new Jombi show the same aggressiveness, but are able to sustain their bodies for years without any food or water. They also do more than attack their prey; they now pass on their deadly infection to those they are able to bite or scratch.”
Manon spoke quietly, “If this disease leaves the jungle it will be uncontrollable. Even if a percentage of the population is immune to it they will be killed by the rest who are infected. Without a treatment, millions of people will die. We have got to get this shaman’s cure, and your brother, back to civilization and into the hands of someone who can study this.”
“There is another problem, though” Pauley remarked. “I think it is safe to say the spiders have picked up the disease and can pass it along as well. What do we do about them?”
Manon had no answer to the question.
~ Chapter IX ~
Manon had given Tanis one of Rock’s thin khaki undershirts to hide his nudity. The shirt was massive on the little man. It dragged the ground when he first put it on. With a knife, Manon had hacked off a hand’s breadth of the length from the bottom and tied it in the middle with a piece of rope. With the shirt and his short walking stick he looked ridiculous; like a miniature Jedi Knight. Tanis was thrilled with the luxurious gift. Unable to stop himself, he unconsciously stroked his hands over the silky cloth continuously.
Tanis had been without his necklaces and bottles for days. When he finally made it to the tree, after a long slow trip, he was happy to place his familiar belongings back on his shoulders and around his waist.
At Manon’s request, Pauley had accompanied Tanis on the trip to retrieve the shaman’s possessions. Manon did not trust the little man to return on his own. He would be a valuable resource to surviving the hike out of the jungle, and would be able to assist with a cure.
Handing a green bottle to Pauley, Tanis explained how a single drop would calm an infected creature for many hours, allowing it to be cautiously controlled, and even led around using a leash. A Jombi in this state would follow wherever it was pulled. He also mentioned one drop of the tonic could be used on a person, and would result in a very deep sleep lasting for days.
The shaman also explained how he had discovered administering four drops from the green bottle would cause the Jombi to collapse and fall into a deep sleep for days. When the creature awoke, it simply stayed wherever it had dropped to the ground. It would no longer attack, and could no longer be persuaded to do anything. The Jombi was unwilling to even stand. Its only reaction to the world was to follow any nearby movement with its eyes.
The two started to walk back towards the camp. Pauley moved quietly, watching out for any spiders in his path, lost in thought. The liquid in the green bottle had to merely be a drug. With modern science and access to the components the drug was made from, it should be easy to recreate in the hands of an experienced researcher, he thought.
“What is used to make the liquid in the bottle?” Pauley asked.
There was no answer.
Pauley turned and looked around. The little shaman was nowhere to be seen.
Pauley jogged all the way back to the tree where the two had retrieved the man’s possessions, but there was no sign of the missing man. He then retraced all of their steps looking for any indication of where the man had stepped from the path, but he was unable to find a footprint or even a single bent twig or blade of grass.
Knowing it was no use, he called out the shaman’s name into the jungle anyway. “Tanis, Tanis!” Then he listened forlornly for a response he knew would never come.
There was no hope of finding the little man, but Pauley was embarrassed to go back into camp without him. He continued to look, expanding his search off the path.
After a couple hours, he could faintly hear someone yelling his name. From off to his right a minute later, someone else called for him. Soon, Pauley was able to see Armando coming towards him, weapon high and alert for any trouble.
Pauley stood up and walked toward the approaching man. When he was close enough, he simply stated, “I lost him. The shaman is gone.”
Armando called out loudly to the rest of the search party members, letting them know Pauley had been found, and they all headed back to camp.
Manon was waiting when they arrived. Darkness was quickly approaching. Pauley repeated his news.
“I lost him. The little guy just disappeared while we were walking together. I searched for him, but never found a sign.”
“Tell me you got the cure first,” Manon said apprehensively.
Pauley reached into a pocket and pulled out the green bottle. He swirled it around, and an inch of liquid could be seen circling the bottom of the bottle.
Pauley started to relay the conversation he and the shaman had had, including the dosages.
“Hold on,” Manon said. “I want to record this.”
He went over and set up the recorder on the tripod. When it was recording, he interviewed Pauley, preserving all of the information.
Without the use of the tents imprisoning Pauley’s infected brother, the five remaining men shared two tents between them. Two people slept in each tent, and the fifth man was assigned to watch duty. The night was hot and muggy. The jungle noises seemed nearer and eerier than they had on previous nights. At one point Manon looked up and saw the dim shadow of a hairy spider crawling on the outside of the tent against the thin moonlight. The men slept poorly.
~ Chapter X ~
At the first sign of light, a howler monkey started his angry cry in the trees above, and the men were all quickly out of their tents. The men huddled around a bright fire, boiling water to stir instant coffee into. Coffee was the one luxury Rock had allowed on the expedition, mainly because it was his addiction, but this morning the five men were thankful. Rock had forbidden Pauley and his brother to bring cigarettes and, from experience, the rest of the crew knew better than to try to sneak any alcohol.
Armando was the first to offer anything more than a good morning. “We need to get out of here. What do you think Manon?”
“I think I am not in charge,” the cameraman answered gloomily.
“Well,” Armando replied, “you are the only employee of the network here. The rest of us are just contractors. The network is paying us, so we work for you now, but I say we bug out as soon as possible.”
Manon looked up at Armando. The scratches on his face from the encounter with Rock the day before were red and very swollen. Pus bulged just beneath the skin and thin red veins spider webbed from them in all directions. The flickering firelight cast peculiar shadows on his ruined cheeks.
“We have a lot of responsibility, the least of which is to our employer,” Manon began. He pulled out a recording device, stuck a miniature audio cassette tape in, and hit record. “Whatever we do potentially could have disastrous effects on the rest of the world. We have a lot of things to worry about.”
Manon poured hot water from the tall silver pot on the fire into an aluminum drinking cup and spooned a large scoop of instant coffee into it.
As he stirred, he continued with his thoughts. “The biggest problem of all, in my opinion, is the spiders. The species in this area can spread the infection, and there is nothing we can do at this time to change that. We have no idea where we are, and I do not know how we can get back here. Bringing a treatment to t
he rest of the world is great, but eradicating every living thing with the infection should, and will, be the priority of those in charge.”
Armando broke in at this point. “I have a map and a compass, and a lot of experience with this sort of thing. I can get us back here if needed. I just need to keep track of some coordinates as we hike back.”
“Good,” Manon continued. “Second, the only other living thing we know of, besides the spiders, able to spread the infection is Pauley’s brother. If we bring him back to civilization, and something goes wrong, we could potentially be responsible for the deadliest plague the Earth has ever seen. If we do not take him back, we lose our proof and a living sample which could potentially be used to find a permanent cure.”
“Speaking of a cure,” Pauley added. “What we have is not really a cure. It is a way to prevent the carriers of the infection from spreading it further and attacking other people, but it does not cure them.”
“Good point,” said Manon. “I hate to contemplate how difficult it will be carrying that rack all the way back on a month long journey with Pauley’s brother struggling the entire time. Did you guys feel the intense pressure in your heads when he was near, or was it just me?”
“I felt it,” Armando replied. “I think Rock just wanted to take the Jombi back to become more famous, but ultimately, he was right. We have to take a sample of the infection back with us if there is any hope of finding a vaccine.”
Pauley suggested, “What if we carried a few spiders back with us? They would be much easier to carry and control. If needed, they can infect a chimp or something when we get them to the right people.”
“I like it,” Manon approved. “What do we do with your brother then? What about the poor creatures scattered around the clearing?”
“We leave them here,” said Pauley.
“Or we put them out of their misery,” Armando suggested. “What if we leave and someone else wanders by?”
“Armando is right,” agreed Manon. “We can’t leave them here like they are. If we don’t take your brother, and I can’t see how we can, we have to make sure he, and the others here, never infect anyone else.”
The men sat silently.
“I will take care of my brother then,” said Pauley glumly. He stood up, walked away, and started packing up his sparse equipment in anticipation of leaving the cursed clearing.
Manon asked, “Armando, can you end the misery for the rest of the creatures in the clearing?”
Armando nodded.
The others finished their coffee in silence. One by one, each got up and started packing.
~ Chapter XI ~
Manon shouted across the camp, “Let’s go guys.”
Pauley approached Armando hesitantly. The large man, still on edge from yesterday’s incident with Rock, had not noticed him and was startled when Pauley spoke up.
“Can I borrow Rock’s… pistol” he hesitated, “for my brother?”
Armando had placed the handgun in its holster on his belt and deftly retrieved it. Pointing it towards the ground, he handed it to Pauley, handle first. He asked, “Do you need my help?”
“No, I can handle it.”
Armando watched as the small native man slunk away towards his brother with his head hanging.
Pauley walked slowly. His eyes were looking down, but not due to depression. He was concentrating on a task very different than the one Armando assumed he was about to perform.
From his jacket pocket, Pauley pulled out the green bottle the shaman had given him. Keeping it close to his chest, and hidden from the view of the camp behind him, Pauley pulled off the top. A strong aroma resembling the sweet smell of a compost heap on a hot muggy day wafted up from the opening.
Pauley tipped the bottle and applied a small amount of the potent and precious liquid to one end of a strip of hard beef jerky he had pulled from his pack a short while ago. The shaman had told him four drops would knock out and eventually pacify the Jombi. This was the amount he was attempting to administer. Once the jerky was ready, he recapped the bottle and stowed it again in his large jacket pocket.
Pulling his pocket knife from his belt, Pauley snapped it open. He was close enough now that his brother, still lashed to the crude frame, had resumed his frenzied struggle.
Careful to avoid any teeth, Pauley moved behind the frame and reached his arms through two of the larger holes. With the left hand he pulled back the fabric, and with the right he sliced through the thin green canvas material covering his brother. The cloth parted easily to the sharp blade, and the thrashing helped to quickly expose his brother’s head.
Pauley gaped at the diminished features. The skin was pulled tight against the skull and was streaked with black veins. The flesh around the eyes was sunken so completely the eyeballs appeared to bulge from their sockets, enormous and gruesome. Somehow in the struggle the previous day, the nose had started hemorrhaging. The dried black remnants of blood left a dark trail down over the upper lip, and into the mouth, where it covered the teeth with brittle crusty scales and flew from the snapping jaws in small flakes.
Pauley positioned himself facing away from the camp once again and lifted the jerky up to his brother’s mouth. As soon as the jaws were within range, they snatched the offering from Pauley’s grip and the creature gorged on the thin strip of meat.
Almost immediately, the potion from the green bottle started taking affect. The thrashing quickly subsided. Pauley swiftly lifted the handgun, pointed it in the general direction of his brother’s head, and fired a single shot into the empty jungle behind him.
His brother’s eyes were still eerily open, but the body was limp. Pauley had decided he could not handle his brother’s death, and had come up with the only solution he could think of. He was not sure exactly how much of the potion he had administered, but he hoped it was enough to allow his brother to remain here peacefully for any years he had left.
Pauley cut his brother from the rack, removing the tents and the rope. The unmoving body fell to the ground and there lay without any movement.
Pauley turned around and went back into the camp. He avoided talking to anyone, and the others kept their distance out of respect. Secretly he was pleased with the solution he had come up with. He walked with his head down, staring at the ground, not wanting anyone to realize he was not as dejected as he should have been.
Looking over at his brother on the opposite side of the large clearing under the deep shadows of the jungle canopy, all Pauley could see was the desiccated body lying on the ground. It was not possible to tell from this distance if there was any life remaining there.
Pauley pulled his pack over his shoulders. He looked around the area to make sure he was not forgetting anything, and headed east out of the camp, following the same path they had arrived from. He knew the others would follow soon.
~ Chapter XII ~
Manon watched Pauley walk out of camp alone. Having never lost anyone close to him, Manon could not imagine the loss and sadness. Not knowing what to say to comfort Pauley, he kept a respectful distance.
There was one more thing to do before leaving camp. They group had multiple empty hard plastic containers which originally had carried food and coffee. These containers stacked into each other, so as food was used, the packs became smaller and lighter. The team always carried anything man-made out of the jungle with them and Manon counted six empty containers available to be used.
He washed out three of these containers. He was not sure if the spiders needed to be able to breath, but using the K-Bar knife he carried on his belt, he stabbed two narrow holes into the top of each.
Capturing three spiders was easy. Many stood out in the open in the large clearing. Whenever anyone approached they would stand threateningly on their back four legs with the front legs high in the air, but would never retreat.
With heavy gloves and a couple of long sleeve shirts on just to be safe, Manon approach
ed. He carried a sturdy stick about a meter long. He had whittled the end of this stick into a horizontal wedge, like the end of a flat head screw driver.
After hearing about the spiders surviving the fire, he was not overly concerned about killing them. He dropped the horizontal end of the stick onto the spider’s back, flattening it to the ground. Remarkably, they appeared to struggle very little other than the fangs which searched relentlessly for something to latch onto. He would then drop the container in front of the spider with the open top facing it, and sweep the spider in as if using a broom. As a continuation of the sweeping motion, he would catch the lip of the occupied container with the stick and tip it upright. A moment later he popped the top on, and the spider was trapped inside.
He secured each of the three containers with multiple pieces of parachute cord to insure the lids would not dislodge. Lastly, he wrapped each box in shirts pulled from Rock’s surplus clothing. Much to their mortification, he strapped one container securely to the top of each of the large backpacks carried by Armando’s crew.
“I can hear it scratching around in there,” Armando protested as he looked over his shoulder at the box nearly touching the back of his head.
“You will get used to it,” Manon replied. He was exhausted and not really in the mood to deal with the complaining. “You can move it when we stop if it bothers you.”
Conscious of the need to get away, and the quickly disappearing hours, Manon still felt the need to record one last video explaining the crew’s actions and plan. He quickly set up the camera and hit record.
As he explained their decisions and recorded their recent observations, Armando yelled over to him. “It is past time to start moving, Manon.”
Manon could see Armando had finished dispatching the figures scattered across the clearing. A sharp thick branch pushed into the temple was all it took to still the mindless creatures, and Armando had performed the task with indifferent efficiency.