Free Blood Forest (Suspense thriller) by Jonathan Taylor

themselves in the forest.
    Ike agreed with the Bantu woman, and so he leaned back against the Jeep with his arms folded, expecting nothing to come of the conversation. Delani sat in the Jeep with Gilles.
    Nessa stood quietly off to the side, alternating between watching Alfred’s struggle and examining the edges of the forest around them. Ike found his eyes roaming, drifting down her back, where her ponytail hung loosely. Her shirt was baggy, masking her narrow waist, but her pants clung to the curve of her hips.
    Ike had been in the jungle too long, he decided. He found himself hating Nessa Singer more than ever today, and yet his eyes would inevitably find their way over. The woman seemed unaware that she was beautiful. She had a reserved, shy way of conducting herself, and she never smiled. She lacked sensuality, always cold and distant.
    Nessa turned suddenly, and his eyes rose up guiltily to meet hers. Ike swallowed and shifted against the Jeep, turning to look at the forest leaves. She had caught him looking at her—not an ideal situation. He didn’t need her to know that she held any sort of power over him.
    He looked back to see her still looking over, a perplexed look on her face. Her brown eyes were wide and girlish.
    Aw, what the hell? Ike thought and gave her a wide toothy grin.
    Nessa’s face reddened and she looked angry and embarrassed, as if Ike had made fun of her. That was understandable—usually when he smiled at her, he was doing just that. She looked away, turning back to the village.
    Ike wondered about her response as he continued to watch her from behind. Maybe she really is shy, he thought. And here I thought it was an act.
    The Bantu woman was tiring of Alfred’s questions, who would not relent no matter how much he was stonewalled. Finally, she insisted that if Alfred wanted to know about the forest so badly, he should go and talk to a pygmy. As she walked away, Alfred called after her, asking where he could find one of the pygmies. The woman huffed and pointed across the village at a hut on the outskirts. Ike could make out a few silhouettes sitting on the porch.
    She added, “Good luck getting them to tell you anything.”
    Alfred yelled a merci after the woman and returned to the Jeep. He said, “I’m going to head across the village to go have a chat with the pygmies. Would any of you like to come with me?”
    “You want protection?” Delani asked with a doubtful grin. “From the pygmies?”
    Gilles let out a small laugh, and Ike cracked a grin. Alfred turned to walk away.
    “Hold up,” Ike called. “I’ll go with ya.”
    They made their way through the dirt streets. As they approached the front of the hut, the three men looked up, stopping their conversation.
    One of the pygmies was wearing a dirty, torn shirt that hung down past his waist. The other wore a high-quality but worn-out and dirty polo shirt. He also wore a pair of khaki shorts, making him look very well dressed for a pygmy.
    The third man was Bantu, with white hair and a crooked jaw. He watched Alfred and Ike approach with suspicion.
    Alfred called out a greeting, spreading his arms out wide. Ike noticed the men’s eyes lock on the chemist’s hook. The well-dressed pygmy spoke first. He answered Alfred’s greeting and followed it up with a phrase from some Bantu dialect. Alfred responded. Alfred’s ability to learn many different dialects astounded Ike, who spoke only pieces of Swahili. Unfortunately, in the Ituri Forest only a small percentage spoke that most widespread of Bantu languages.
    Alfred’s next question, in the Bantu language, caused the Bantu man to raise his eyebrows and mutter.
    When the chemist began to elaborate, the Bantu man cut him off. He grew animated, gesturing with his hands and speaking forcefully. Alfred’s queries only angered the man further.
    As the conversation intensified, Ike kept his eyes on the two pygmies, who had fallen silent.
    Alfred nodded to the three men and apologized