Dark Ransom Read Free Page A

other direction,' no longer
    caring whether they understood or not.
    The track forked suddenly, and they were plunged deeper into the
    forest. It was like entering a damp green tunnel. Animal and bird
    cries echoed raucously above the sound of the engine, and tall ferns
    and undergrowth scratched at the sides of the vehicle as they sped
    along.
    Charlie had a feeling of total unreality. This couldn't be happening
    to her, she thought. Presently she would wake up and find herself
    safely in her hammock on board the Manoela. .And when she did
    her first action would be to tear up Fay Preston's letter.
    The jeep began to slow, and Charlie saw a dark gleam of water
    ahead of them. Perhaps there was going to be a miracle after all, she
    thought incredulously. Maybe this was just a very roundabout way
    to the dock, and the Manoela would be there, waiting for her.
    But the age of miracles was definitely past. Journey's end was a
    makeshift landing stage, at which a small craft with an outboard
    motor was moored.
    The driver nudged Charlie. 'Boat,' he said triumphantly.
    'But it's the wrong boat,' she said despairingly. 'Um engano.'
    They looked at each other, and shook their heads as if in pity.
    Charlie dived for her wallet again.
    'Look,' she said rapidly, 'turn the jeep round, and take me back to
    Mariasanta, and I won't tell a living soul about all this. You can take
    the money, and there'll be no trouble—I swear it. But—please—
    just—let me go...'
    The driver said, 'Boat now, senhorita,' and his voice was firm.
    She walked between them to the landing stage. They didn't touch
    her, or use any form of restraint, and she was tempted to make a run
    for it—but where?
    People, she knew, had walked into the Brazilian jungle and never
    emerged again. And by the time she managed to make it back to
    Mariasanta, if she ever did, Captain Gomez would have sailed
    anyway. He waited for no one.
    For the first time in her life she understood why extreme danger
    often made its victims passive.
    You clung to the hope, she thought, that things couldn't possibly be
    as bad as they seemed—or get any worse—right up to the last
    minute.
    She could always dive into the river, she thought almost detachedly,
    except that she was a lousy swimmer. And the thought of the shoals
    of piranha and other horrors which might lurk under the brown
    water was an equally effective deterrent.
    She got into the boat and sat where they indicated, watching as they
    fussed over the unrolling of a small awning set on poles.
    If she was going to a fate worse than death it seemed she was going
    in comparative comfort.
    The motor spluttered into life then settled to a steady throb, and the
    mooring rope was released.
    And as they moved away upstream Charlie heard in the distance,
    like some evil omen, the long, slow grumble of thunder.

CHAPTER TWO
    THE storm struck an hour later. Charlie had been only too aware of
    its approach—the sullen clouds crowding above the trees, the
    occasional searing flash followed by the hollow, nerve-jangling
    boom. But she'd hoped, childishly, that they'd have reached
    whatever destination they were heading for before its full force hit
    them.
    She'd experienced an Amazon storm her first day on the Manoela,
    but at least there had been adequate shelter. The awning provided no
    protection at all against the apparently solid sheet of water
    descending from the sky.
    There were other problems too. This was obviously the latest in a
    series of storms, and the river was badly swollen. The boat was
    having to battle against a strong, swirling current, as well as avoid
    the tree branches and other dangerous debris being carried down
    towards them.
    Charlie wondered fatalistically if this was where it was all going to
    end—on some anonymous Amazon tributary, among total strangers,
    with her family forever wondering what had happened to her.
    Her clothes were plastered to her body, and her brown hair was
    hanging in rats' tails round