Stafford looked at his friend, lying in the hospital bed
unconscious, the steady beep of the machine monitoring his vitals
the only sound in the room.
Should have been me, Stafford thought. I should have
been the one that took the darts.
They had been traveling through the Amazon basin, two days
behind Rossdale and determined to catch up before the swelling of
the river made most of the old trails impossible to follow. It had
been a particularly long day, and Sherpa had insisted on pushing
forward, afraid that the night would provide both the jungle and
Rossdale the opportunity to take back the ground they had
gained.
Stafford had just crested the hill when he saw the first stone
face hidden by the creeping vines. A fraction of a moment later, he
heard the zinging sounds of the poison darts as they passed from
the hollow mouths of the carvings, dropping Sherpa in an
instant.
It should have been me, he thought again. I'm always
the one wanting to push on...why wasn't it me today?
Dr. Rickert came in and looked at Sherpa's chart.
"Doesn't look good, Stafford. He's got what appears to be a
combination of radiation sickness and chemical poisoning. The
former is weakening his immune system, and the latter is playing
havoc with every target of opportunity it can find. And there's
nothing we can do, since we don't know the make-up of the
poison."
Stafford slammed his fist against the nightstand as he turned to
face Rickert.
"Doc, you're telling me you've never treated a man for radiation
sickness before? And I would think that chemical poisoning would be
a pretty simple matter."
"Normally it would," Rickert said, almost defending the efforts
he and his staff had made over the last 18 hours. "Normally...but
this isn't normal, Stafford. Whatever was in this chemical from the
Amazonian jungle...well, no one has ever seen it before. Not many
of us get down to the Amazon, you know."
Stafford suddenly grabbed Rickert's arm. "You don't, doc...but I
know someone who HAS."
Stafford opened Rossdale's journal and began flipping through
pages. After a few moments, he found the entry he was looking
for.
...the pieces are all in place. perhaps i miSRead it the
first time, or maybe it was just an error from my poor COpy. but it
will soon be done. the coals over the asHGrate are red Hot, and
judging from their lunar observations, the fIRe they have built
must be for a sacrifice, perhaps for an omnipotent god. whatever HE
must think, it is their intent to Brand me for identifying their
deity aZNoth, and tHe nature of their poisonous ways...
"Doc, take me to the research lab. I also need access to the
radiology lab. I think I know where the answer is." Stafford
grabbed his hat and Rossdale's journal, taking care not to lose his
place, and hastily left the room, determined to save the life of
his friend.