“I have to…” He searched for the right word. “Urine.”
“Well, go ahead and pee, then. You have a catheter so you can just go. Sasha says she can take it out as soon as you’re able to walk around on your own. Then you can go pee in the jungle like the rest of us.”
He looked so horrified that she worried he was having a stroke. She wasn’t sure which part of that had upset him. The catheter? Or the peeing in the jungle? “I’ll give you some privacy. Pee, drink some water, eat some soup. I have to go see what’s happening outside.”
“Rory,” he said again, then shook his head. “No. No. Forgot. Lincoln. Tell Lincoln…need to see.”
“I’ll do that.” She started to leave, then turned back. “One little question before I go. What’s it like working for that man? Is it as aggravating as I imagine?”
He worked on focusing his gaze on her, but it seemed difficult for him to do. His eyes kept wandering in all directions, as if he was searching for something.
“Lincoln…danger,” he finally said.
A chill slithered down her spine. Then she remembered that Sasha had said he was experiencing paranoid delusions about foreign governments and so on.
“Don’t worry about all that, Rory. I can set your mind at ease that everyone here is dedicated to scientific research and not any kind of threat to Lincoln. He’s been pretty generous, actually. He’s going to donate some equipment and other funding.”
Rory’s eyes opened wider, as if he was surprised to hear that.
“Hey, I was shocked, too. But he said it’s the least he could do after we rescued you two. Gotta love a billionaire who doesn’t mind parting with big chunks of his money.”
Rory closed his eyes and gave a low groan.
Mathilda took that as her cue to hurry out of the tent to see what all the commotion was about.
Everyone was gathered near the fire pit, clustered around Lincoln and another man. As she slipped between Diane and Bjorn, she saw that the newcomer was a man in full jungle gear, his head shrouded in so much netting that he looked like a giant spiderweb on legs.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“I caught this man sneaking into camp,” Lincoln explained. “He’s obviously armed, if you consider a machete a weapon, which I certainly do.”
The stranger shook his head. “I…I don’t even know how to use that thing. They told me to bring it but not as a weapon.” He spoke with a British accent, which sent another shiver down Mathilda’s spine.
Rory had mentioned foreign governments. This man was a foreigner. Maybe it wasn’t all a delusion.
“‘They’? Who’s they?” Sasha demanded.
“The…the guides. The outfitters. The people I rented all this gear from.” He grabbed at the base of his head net, but couldn’t find the catch. “Bloody terrible job they did. Should have paid attention to those one-star reviews.”
“Are you saying you’re just here to explore the jungle?” Lincoln’s cool and skeptical voice cut through the man’s struggles with his head net. “And you just happened to stumble across this camp?”
“No, no, not exploring. Lord forbid. I wouldn’t set foot in this place if I wasn’t hired to do it.”
Lincoln lifted the machete so it was aimed directly at the man’s throat. “Who hired you?”
“That’s just it, unfortunately I am legally restricted from revealing that information until I’ve delivered my message.”
“Well, isn’t that convenient.” Bjorn butted into the conversation, as if trying to compete with Lincoln somehow. “But out here we have no police or judges. Legal restrictions don’t mean much.”
“Perhaps, but I don’t intend to stay here a minute longer than necessary, and I still have to answer to my professional obligations.”
Everyone exchanged glances, unsure what to do. Mathilda took a step closer, causing Lincoln to shoot her a glance full of warning.
“Mathilda, stay back,” he said. “We don’t know who this man is or what he’s here for.”
“Did you say Mathilda?” Everyone’s attention swung back toward the man in camouflage. “Mathilda Wheeler?”
Mathilda felt a wave of shock wash through her. “How do you know my name?” she demanded. “Who are you? Can someone get his stupid head net off? It’s not even buggy right now!”
