Page 57 of Wild Temple
We continued down the trail, and I kept a watchful eye for booby traps.
We made it another 10 or 20 yards, then Rex balled his fist again. He froze and pointed to a clump of leaves and palm fronds that covered the trail, along with some loose dirt and gravel. It concealed a punji pit with sharpened bamboo spikes just waiting to stab through your heel.
This place was no joke.
We continued on to a clearing, having made it past all the booby traps. Across the meadow, nestled in the hills among a shroud of foliage, was a hand-built hut made from poured concrete, teak, reclaimed wood, and pilfered steel. It had a pitched, A-frame roof with solar panels. A water collection system fed into storage barrels. The place had a large front veranda with a daybed and mosquito netting.
Duke had a nice garden in the meadow, growing just about everything anyone would need to survive off-grid in a tropical paradise like this. It looked well tended to.
There was no cell service out here and no neighbors for miles.
I scanned the area and didn't see any signs of life.
Then, a shrub came alive.
It stood tall and lowered its weapon. Duke had spotted us long before we arrived in the meadow. He wore a homemade ghillie suit and had blended in with the scenery, damn near invisible. "Shit, Rex! You trying to get yourself killed?”
"Not today."
"You should have told me you were coming.”
“If you ever picked up the phone, you might actually get your messages."
"Who needs messages?" he said as he approached. Duke was a walking shrub. "Who the hell are these people?"
Rex introduced us. "They’ve got a little trouble with Caspian."
A sly grin tugged Duke's face. "Shit. Anybody who's got a problem with Caspian is on my good side."
"Well, I got a problem with him, too.”
Duke gave him a worried look. "What the hell did you do?"
Rex told him.
Duke grimaced. "Yes, I believe that would put you on his shit list." Duke just shook his head. "Want a beer? It's ice cold.”
He didn't have to sell it too hard.
Duke led us across the meadow and peeled out of the makeshift ghillie suit when we reached the porch. He wore a sleeveless T-shirt and cargo shorts underneath it all and had worked up a hell of a sweat with all that extra garb on. His face was still streaked with green and black greasepaint. I think he forgot he had it on because he didn't bother to wash it off right away.
He escorted us inside. It was a nice place with hardwood floors, tasteful decor, and homey touches. Lean and minimalist, but cozy.
His young, hot girlfriend lounged on the couch naked, watching TV from the satellite feed.
She covered herself with her hands and scowled at Duke as we stepped into the living room.
We tried to avert our eyes.
"You tell me when we have company," she hissed.
"Didn’t you hear us talking outside?”
She climbed off the couch, hurried out of the room, and slipped into their bedroom.
Duke laughed. "Don't mind her. She's an exhibitionist. She did that on purpose. Hell, if I looked like that, I’d never put on clothes.”
Duke was definitely living the good life.
