Page 53 of Fall
“El Fantasma?” The man aiming a gun to my chest scowls. “I find that hard to believe. You're nowhere near the Oasis.”
“I went for a walk.” My answer sounds unbelievable as it rushes out.
The men converse in a foreign language, and the guy opposite me nods. “Move,” he orders. “You’re coming with us.”
A shiver of uneasiness runs riot over my clammy skin. I can’t be sure these guys are on Dante’s payroll or what they plan to do with me. “I'd rather carry on this track. I’ve got somewhere to be in a hurry. Salvador is waiting for me.”
They ignore my protest. I’m pushed forward by the gun between my shoulder blades. “Keep walking.”
I trip over a chunky root and almost topple. A hostile hand wraps my bicep and steadies me. Twisting around, I meet small blue eyes and a stern expression. “Talk to Luiz. He knows who I am,” I say in a flurry, unable to shirk off his firm grip. “He’ll tell you I’m a guest at the Oasis.”
“Walk,” he repeats, manhandling me further into the buzzing jungle.
“Are you taking me to the Oasis?” The man doesn’t reply. He continues to stalk beside me even though I strain to free my arm. “Where are we going?” I demand.
“You’re trespassing. I have the order to shoot and kill. So be quiet,” he says close to my ear.
Beyond us, scattered palms laden with coconuts hide men primed like snipers, armed for war. They all face a dilapidated shack surrounded by bushes. The random shelter snuggled amidst lush bushes is basic and poorly erected. Archaic and ready to implode.
The strategically positioned sharpshooters don’t flinch as I’m guided past them one by one and shoved to my knees.
“Keep your hands on your head. No sudden movements, or I’ll shoot you. Understand?”
I nod, pressing my palms onto the crown of my head as I kneel. Trees soar skyward, their foliage layering over the sky. The men chat amongst themselves with words I can’t decipher. It turns heated with biting words and flared nostrils. A crackle from a radio brings more Portuguese. Quickly followed by a gun aimed at my temple.
“Tell me why you’re here.”
“I told you. I've been with el Fantasma these past few weeks.” How long has it been? I’ve lost count of the hours, days and weeks.
“We’ve checked. That guest left at sunrise.”
My brows fly up. “No! Not yet. Ask Sal, he’s waiting for me at the helipad.”
“There’s no helicopter waiting for you.”
What?“I swear I’m telling you the truth. Speak to el Fantasma. Ask him yourself. He’ll confirm my identity.”
He glances behind me and mutters to another guy who responds immediately. “He gave the order not to be disturbed.”
“Wait… Is he here?” My head almost does a one-eighty to search for him.
“You’re asking too many questions.”
“If he’s here, let me see him.” I frantically push up, trying to stand.
“Stay on your knees.”
“Let. Me. Speak to him,” I punch out the demand again.
Force knocks the wind from my lungs when I’m hurled forward. Vicious hands jostle me to the mud, slamming my chest down hard. The cap falls off my head when I wrestle and kick.
“Keep her restrained. I’ll report to el Fantasma when he comes out of the hut.”
He’s inside the shack. Close by. My heartbeats treble in speed. I scream. I yell so loudly that his name stings my throat. “El Fantasma!”
“Sssh! He’ll kill you.” The guy pinning me down slaps a hand over my mouth. “He’s busy right now. Not even a pretty foreign girl will distract him.”
A second later, a deep sonorous rumble carries my name. “Iris?” I strain my neck in vain to see. He’s directly behind me. “What the hell is happening here? Christ,get the fuck off her, before I shoot you myself.” His voice rasps with a strict edginess, jagged and cold. “Don’t ever put your hands on her again. Understood?”
