She busied herself with checking his intravenous catheter, now plugged with a heparin lock. Though he no longer needed fluid support, she kept the catheter in place in case of emergencies.
Across the way, the shaman frowned at her.
Screw you, she thought silently and angrily, I'll go when I'm good and ready. She lifted the blanket from over her brother's legs and made one final check on his wounds. The sap seal on the stumps remained tenaciously intact. In fact, through the semitransparent seal, she saw a decent granulation bed had already formed over the raw wounds, like the heating tissue under a protective scab. The rate of granulation was simply amazing.
Tucking back the blankets, she saw that Frank's eyes were already closed. A slight snore sounded from his open mouth. She very gently leaned over and kissed his other cheek. Again she had to choke back a sob, but couldn't stop the tears. Straightening up, she wiped her eyes and surveyed the room one final time.
The shaman must have seen the wet glisten on her cheeks. His impatient frown softened in sympathy. He nodded to her, his eyes intent, repeating a silent promise that he would watch closely over her brother.
With no choice, she took a deep breath and headed toward the exit. The climb back down the tree seemed interminable. In the dark passage, she was alone with her thoughts. Worries magnified and multiplied. Her fears bounced between her daughter, her brother, and the world at large.
At last, she stumbled out of the tree's trunk and into the open glade. An evening breeze had kicked up, but it was warm. The moon was bright overhead, but already scudding clouds rolled across the spread of stars. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled. They would get rain before the morning.
In the freshening breeze, she hurried across the wide clearing, heading toward their tree. At its base, she spotted someone standing guard with a flashlight-Private Camera. The Ranger pegged her with the light, then waved. At her side, Tor-tor lay huddled. The jaguar glanced up at her approach, sniffed the air, then lowered his head back to his curled body.
"How's Frank?" Camera asked.
Kelly did not feel like talking but could not dismiss the soldier's con tern. "He seems to be doing well. Very well:"
"That's good:" She jabbed a thumb to the ladder. "You should try to get as much sleep as possible. We've a long day ahead of us:"
Kelly nodded, though she doubted sleep would come easily. She mounted the ladder.
"There's a private room on the third level of the dwelling left empty for you. It's the one on the right:"
Kelly barely heard her. "Good night," she muttered and continued her climb, lost in her own worries.
At the top of the ladder, she found the deck empty, as was the common room. Everyone must have already retired, exhausted by the number of days with so little sleep.
Craning back, she stared at the dark upper stories, then crossed to the longer of the two secondary ladders.
Third level, Private Camera had said.
Great . . . just what I get for being the last one to claim a room.
The third story was a good deal higher than the other two. Built on its own level of branches, it was more a separate structure, a two-room guest house.
Her legs aching, she mounted the long ladder. The wind began to kick up a bit as she climbed, whispering the branches, swaying the ladder ever so slightly. The gusts smelled of rain. Overhead, the moon was swallowed by dark clouds. She hurried up as the storm swept toward the village.
From this height, she saw lightning fork across the sky in a dazzling burst. Thunder boomed and echoed like a bass drum. Suddenly, living in a giant tree did not seem like such a wise choice. Especially the uppermost level.
She hurried as the first raindrops began pelting through the leaves. Pulling herself up onto the tiny deck, she rolled to her feet. The wind and rain grew quickly. Storms in the Amazon were usually brief, but they often came swiftly and fiercely. This one was no exception. Standing half crouched, she faced the doors that led to the two rooms on this level.
Which room had Camera told her was hers?
Lightning crackled overhead in small angry spears, while thunder rattled. Rain swept in a sudden torrent, and breezes became
fierce gusts. Under her feet, the planking rolled like the deck of a ship at sea.
Beyond caring if she woke someone, Kelly dove toward the nearest opening, half falling through the flap, seeking immediate shelter.
The room was dark. Lightning burst, shining brightly through a smaller back door to the chamber. The lone hammock in the room was thankfully empty. She stumbled gratefully toward it.
As she crossed toward the hammock, her feet tripped over something in the dark. She fell to her knees with a sharp curse. Her fingers reached back and discovered a pack on the floor.
"Who's there?" a voice asked from beyond the back door. A silhouetted figure stepped into the frame of the doorway.
On her knees, Kelly felt a moment of sheer terror.