The World's Next Plague Read Free Page A

quickly they did not have time to leave. Even after
they caught it, they stayed right here in the open. They did not go
lay comfortably in their huts to get relief from the sickness or
protection from the persistent rains.”
    Manon continued the thought, “so if it was
airborne and is as quick to infect as you are thinking, you and I
would already be… what? Changed? Sick?”
    “I don’t know. Infected. Maybe unable to
move. Let’s take another look at the bodies after lunch. I think we
will find they all have wounds on them consistent with bites. That
might explain the reason all of the ones still moving continuously
are snapping their jaws at us. It might be something similar to
rabies.”
    “I am still putting on a mask,” Manon said as
they walked back over to the rest of the crew. “I still think
taking one back with us is a bad idea.”
    Armando spoke up when they arrived back in
the midst of the other men. “The natives won’t come into the camp.
They are afraid there is a curse.”
    “For the first time in my life I might
agree,” Manon replied. “This place is not right.”
    Rock looked disapprovingly at him. “Look
guys, we have been in dozens of situations more dangerous than
this. I don’t see anything here that is going to jump up and attack
us. There is nothing to be worried about.”
     
    ~ Chapter
III ~
     
    Just outside the camp the two native guides
were also discussing what they had seen. The two men were brothers
from a tribe hundreds of miles away. Many of the native languages
were derived from the same basic dialect and they were often able
to converse with other primitive tribes, although sometimes with
difficulty.
    Both men were significantly shorter than the
other men in the film crew. Their age was impossible to determine
with a look, and neither could answer with any certainty if asked.
They each were wearing khaki shorts and button up shirts which
badly needed a wash. A souvenir from the native heritage, any
visible skin from the neck down was liberally covered with dark
black tattoos running in perpendicular lines with various sized
circles filling in the space between.
    The men now lived comfortably in two worlds.
They grew up in the rainforest, but early on decided to look for
more than their isolated world had to offer. Together they migrated
to the large village of Porto Velho as young adults. Moving to ever
larger towns, they discovered everything they had been looking for.
All of the elder’s warnings given to them in their youth had been
accurate, and they rejoiced in the forbidden comforts of modern
life. Their unique background allowed them to escort rich men from
around the world into the forest and live in luxury compared to
their native brethren.
    Though never at a loss for words in each
other’s company, neither was willing to discuss the things they had
seen in the small village. In their native culture, speaking of
evil was the one sure way to bring it into your own life.
    The two sat silently in front of a small fire
eating their dinners. Each carried canned meals in their packs, but
preferred to eat the many fruits and roots they had gathered on the
day’s journey. A small aluminum pot sat precariously on the fire
heating water spiced with wild herbs and leaves.
    Surrounding the pot in the fire were six
large spiders with legs drawn in tightly to their abdomen.
Periodically the men reached in to swiftly flip them over by hand.
It was important to assure the long hairs, which could irritate the
throat, were singed away and the spider was cooked all the way
through.
    “I think I miss the spiders most of all,” the
older brother said. “Can’t find them anywhere in town. Maybe we
should open up a stall in the market at home when we get back. They
are everywhere here. I have never seen so many spiders in one
place. We could come back here to gather them. They don’t even run
away when we get near them.”
    “Nobody besides us is stupid enough to eat
these