"Prone to wander, Lord I feel it, prone to leave the God I love."- Come Thou Font of Every Blessing, Robert Robinson
Bob and I are pressed up against the window of this car, right? And all I can think of is how Diana's dealing with the shooting of her parents. Bob told me about it soon after we got our ride.
Sympathy for Diana, Perry too, won't leave my mind. I know exactly how they feel. My parents died in a freak accident, just like the Whites did. I really want to talk to Diana about it, you know, tell her my story in case it helps, but I'm not sure that it'd be welcomed. And even if she did, I'd be too awkward and afraid to make any sense. It sucks when you have thoughts but no words.
None of this is very happy, of course, so I get an idea to take my mind off depressing thoughts (you know, like death).
It's been a while since I've done anything insanely crazy, or at least since the plane crash.
"Hey, Bob," I whisper to my friend, noticing that the whole squad is asleep.
"What?" he asks groggily.
"Want to do something stupid?" I suggest.
Suddenly, his eyes light up, and he's no longer tired. "Ah, I knew there was hope for you yet."
I can't help but thinking, what's that supposed to mean?, as I explain to Bob what we're going to do.
Getting out of the car undetected isn't hard. There's a weird curtain divider between us and the two drivers, so all we have to do is lower the van window and crawl out. After being in a plane crash, climbing onto the outside of a moving car is hardly daunting, to be honest.
Once we're out, we heave ourselves onto the roof of the van and hold on tight to those bars that people attach stuff to.
The wind is ripping through our hair as the jungle roars past us.
"This is even better than riding in Londo's trailer!" Bob yells, reminding me of hitching a ride on the back of our friend's lumber carrier.
I nod and turn to look at the jungle. I can't deny the anxiety that I feel, but I also can't deny the freedom. Nor the fun.
"I wonder what the squad would think if they weren't sleeping!" Bob adds.
I smile and wonder about that myself. Janis would laugh and call us insane, while Alice would make a sarcastic comment with Perry agreeing. As for Diana... she'd probably try to keep her distance from me after I did something like this.
Beside me, I can see Bob gazing around at the jungle, and I take his lead, noticing all the colors. It's mostly green, but there's the red and blue of a bird here and there. A helicopter flies overhead. I think it's all amazing.
We stay up on the roof of the van and simply observe for a while until I here the seemingly distant voice of one of the drivers say, "¿Dónde están Guadalupe y Bob?"
I hang my head over the open window. The other driver moves the curtain to see me. "Encima del carro," I say, telling him that I'm on top of the car.
This startles the man driving to the point where he slams on the breaks, nearly throwing Bob and me overboard.
The one who was driving gets out and starts yelling at us in angry Spanish. He throws his arms around, making me notice the bracelet on his left arm.
Bob and I sheepishly climb into our spots at the front, scooting even farther away from the drivers.
Glancing to the back, I see that Perry's woken up and is staring at us.
I don't try to explain what we were up to (what would I say) and try to fall asleep.
Needless to say, I don't, and it stays that way until Cruzeiro do Sul.
. . .
We get dropped off at what Perry calls a "commercial district." The buildings around us aren't to shabby, but they aren't exactly high and mighty, like the way Bob's described some places. Instead, it's small and quaint.
Around us are cars and people, talking and honking (normally it's the cars doing the honking, though).
"Should we exchange money?" Perry asks when no one talks. "Stuff is probably worth less down here." Despite my dislike for him, I can't help but admire the way he continues to take charge after what's just happened to him.
"Yeah, I can take us there; I've been here before," Bob says nonchalantly.
We all stare at him.
Bob stares back.
"So what you're saying is," Janis speaks up, "you come here often?"
"Yeah," Bob shrugs like, duh. "I came here when I was 11 or 12. I spent like a day at the money exchange, and I remember where it is."
"Why didn't you tell us this before?" Perry asks cautiously.
Bob shrugs again. "You never asked?"
I roll my eyes at my friend. Apparantly being 72 for three years didn't change him at all.
Perry reluctantly tells us that we should follow Bob to the money exchange.
It's about a 15 minute walk and it involves a lot of talking about books, school and potatoes.
"No! Idaho potatoes are so much better than Irish potatoes!" Perry yells, his fists swinging side to side as we walk.
"Never," growls Bob, "Don't you even say that." I forget he's half Irish sometimes, considering all the other places he likes to visit.
"Please," Janis says to Bob. "Have you tasted an Idaho potato?"
"Yes! And they're just dumb versions of Irish potatoes... but stupid!" Bob insists.
"I hate potatoes," Alice says, backing away from everyone else. "Leave me out of this."
Diana nods in agreemnet, suddenly reminding me that she's there.
She and I exchange glances until we reach the money place.
Perry offers to let Bob and me go find a camp while he and Alice exchange the money for Brazilian Reals.
I ask him where Diana and Janis are going and he tells us that they're going to use our new money to buy everyone a shirt.
Even though I nod, I think the use of our money is pointless. I mean, I've lived with the shirt I'm wearing since I was 18.
The others don't agree with my logics, so Bob and I just go find a place to make camp.
We choose a place a few meters into the jungle, nestled in some green trees. It's smaller and more comfortable than our others, which I like better. Up above our heads I see a view of the sky, which I know will be speckled with stars tonight.
Bob is setting up the tent and I've making a fire in the middle of camp when the rest of the squad comes back.
"Hey guys," Bob says in an amiable voice, walking over to them.
"Hola," Janis says, handing him a grey hoodie that reads "Propiedad de Cruziero do Sul."
Perry walks over to me as everyone else talks and lays a sweater next to me. "Here you go, Guad," he says kindly.
Instead of saying anything, I look at my new clothing.
The top third is read and the rest is orange. I end up staring at it for at least a minute until I tell Perry thanks. It's the first gift I've recieved in 10 years.
For the rest of the afternoon, everyone tries on their new clothes and talks around the fire. The mood is nicer and calmer than I've felt in a while, which for some reason makes me nervous.
I can't shake the feeling that something was wrong.
But nothing bad happens all day.
Evening begins to fall.
We're all curled up around the campfire and just talking. Diana and I are intensly getting closer, and it's nice, of course, but also uncomfortable.
Alice, Perry, and Janis begin to have an intense debate about book characters, which, for some reason is very interesting to watch.
At one point, Janis rambles in such a fierce diatribe to Alice that it's exactly like the rap music I've heard coming from the car garages in Punta Arenas.
Then, just as I'm starting to doze off, the terrifying feelings I've had all day are suddenly fufilled.
Next to me, Bob suddenly slumps forwards, his skin flashing a fatal white.
Janis' voice dies down and she gasps. "Uh.. what happened to Bob?"
"Bob?" I ask, shaking my best friend's limp shoulder.
"What's going on?" Perry asks to no one in particular, looking around the vast jungle.
"Bob?" I ask again, more frantically, laying him against the trunk of a tree.
"Don't bother," a cold voice suddenly says.
In an instant, all of our attention is directed to a man standing a few feet from our campsite. There's a couple of men flanking him. My heart skips a beat. They're the drivers that brough us here; the one with the circle tatto on his neck and the one with the bracelet. Unlike on our drive here, both have black balaclavas over their faces, only allowing us to see their electric blue eyes.
Then I notice the noise. It's loud and choppy. It's coming from a helicopter that is stopped in a clearing not 30 meters away from us. How we didn't see it, I don't know.
No one in the squad says anything at first to the newcomer. Was he here to rob us or something? Did he make Bob pass out? How would he do that?
But my questions are useless.
Perry has ideas along the same line as me. He rummages through his pocket. "Do you want money? I'll-" he stops and says something that has me even more confused. "Y- you're the man who was on the plane. You killed the pilots and crashed us." If he crashed the plane, I think, then it wasn't Bob.
The man grins, his mustache terrifyingly wicked. "I'm not here to hurt any of you. I only want him," he says, gesturing at Bob.
Then suddenly everything clicks: the mustache, the henchmen, the ambiguity. This man was Jose Delgato, the man who captured Bob 3 years ago. He was the man who turned him old; did experiments on him.
"Jose Delgato," I say angrily. "How did you find Bob?"
Delgato smiles again. "The tracking device in your friend's arm, of course." He waves to Bob.
I lift up the sweatshirt sleeve of Bob's right arm. The barcode on the inside of his forearm is glowing green and pulsing.
"You- you stuck a tracking device in him," I growl, glaring daggers into Jose Delgato. Behind me I can hear Diana yelp. I don't mean to startle her, or anyone for that matter, but the cruelty is too much.
Jose Delgato nods. "I did. And now I need dear Mr. Sawyer back. He is involved in something much more dire than your petty trip home. He must join those like unto himself to fufill the greater good. And we so desperately need that. So why don't you ago and hand him over, and I'll spare your lives?" As he talks, I reach into Bob's pocket and take out the switchblade he found in the mining village, palming it in my hand.
"How about no," I say, standing to my full height.
Suddenly, and emotion takes over my body, driven for one purpose: to protect my best friend.
I open the switchblade and lunge at Delgato, stabbing him deep in the side, not caring what the squad will think, not caring about the henchmen, not caring about morals.
Delgato cries out and the henchman with the bracelet grabs his arm and starts pulling him towards the helicopter, paying no further attention to me. I fall to the jungle floor, my hand clenching the switch and completely covered in blood.
The blood is running down my arm and I feel like it's mine, draining me of all energy.
Apparently things can continue to be unexpected, because the henchman with the tattoo unstraps a hunting knife, and without hesitating, throws it at Delgato. It buries itself deep into his stomach. Delgato yells out a stream of cuss words.
"¡Hijo del Diablo!" I scream after him as he's dragged back to the helicopter.
There is a sickening thump as Delgato is loaded into the helicopter. A noisy whirring sound follows as the chopper takes off.
The whole squad is staring at me, flabbergasted. Perry seems to be in shock, Bob is still passed out and the twins are whispering things frantically to each other. But Diana is curled up behind Perry, as if using him as a barrier between us. She inhales and exhales quickly. "What... just... happened?" she wheezes.
"I think that Guad just stabbed a man," Janis says, turning away from Alice.
"Yeah, and there's no time to sit and chat about it," the henchman with the tattoo interrupts (I notice for the first time that he has a British accent), pulling another knife from his belt.
"Ahh that's a knife," Janis yelps, moving backwards.
"I'm not going to stab you, if that's what you think," he says, kneeling down by Bob and removing his black mask. I see that he's in his late twenties, with what I guess is attractive black hair.
"Hey, don't hurt him!" I yell out mindlessly.
"Because after what I've done I obviously want to hurt your mate here," he says sarcastically. He returns to examining Bob's arm.
This leaves me not knowing what to think. Instead of figuring anything out, I drop my knife.
"Who are you?" Perry asks the man, standing up and putting his hands in his pockets.
The henchman doesn't look up. Instead, he simply says, "A friend. But that also depends on who's asking. And if you want my name," he looks me straight in the eyes, "It's Finn Ashton."
"How can I trust you?" I ask suspiciously.
Perry nods. "I've had some trust issues lately."
"Well too bad," Finn Ashton says curtly. "And you can trust me," is that him glancing at the twins? "because I am trustworthy. Guad, come here, I need your help."
Instead of wondering how he knows my name, I kneel down next to Ashton and lean over Bob's body.
"What do you need?" I ask.
"Coffee," Perry mutters from behind me. Does he really have to make a joke right now?
"We need to take this tracking device out," Ashton says nonchalantly.
He points to Bob's arm, where the area under his barcode is still glowing.
My ears hardley hear what he says, and it takes a few seconds for me to comprehend what task lies ahead.
"You want me to cut into his arm?"
Ashton hands me a thin piece of metal. "This won't be exactly fun, mate, but I think you'll do it for your friend here, if I'm not mistaken. Just follow my lead."
I wince as I begin to drive the point of the metal into my best friend's arm, as if I'm the one being stabbed.