One Grave Less

near the river where they had been and their proximity to the village still was not safe. The woman, Maria, shivered thinking of the dangers.
    The human smells of the village—and the cage—had disappeared behind them. Now there was only the fresher scent of the jungle. Maria took a deep breath.
    “We need to talk about your plan, Ariel—I mean Rosetta.”
    “First, we must get out of this territory of Julio—he’s the man who kidnapped you, the one who came with his girlfriend yesterday to talk to you.”
    “They think I’m Diane Fallon?”
    “Yes. Patia doesn’t speak good English. She heard them talking and she knew that you are a forensic anthropologist and are from Georgia.”
    “She understood the words forensic anthropologist ?”
    “Julio was told to look for a woman named Diane Fallon, a forensic anthropologist from Georgia looking for”—she shrugged—“bones or skins or feathers. I don’t know why. Julio calls himself alambre de atropellada .”
    “What does that mean?”
    She shrugged again. “It doesn’t make sense. It’s a wire you run over.”
    Maria wrinkled her forehead. “Trip wire,” she said. “His job was to look out for someone investigating something specific. But don’t they know you are Diane’s daughter? Wouldn’t they try to use that?”
    She shook her head. “I’m Rosetta, as far as they know. It’s a long story. Too long for now. We must go.”
    “Where are we going?”
    “I told you—out of this territory.”
    “What’s in your backpack?”
    “Supplies. Some food. Clothes. A map. Can you read a map?”
    “Yes, I can. How old are you?”
    “Almost nine.”
    Eight years old, the woman thought. Growing up too fast.
    “Is there a place we can stop and take stock of our situation?”
    They first heard a crack and a rustle.
    “ ¿Qué tenemos aquí? Two little fishes out for a walk, eh? Who let you out, woman? Not the little one here?”
    Both were startled. Ariel stood still. The two of them watched a man approach. The woman didn’t recognize him, but he wore the ragged pseudo-uniform of Julio and his men and he knew she was a captive.
    “Looks like you need the protection of a man, out here alone.”
    He walked toward them, grinning, cupping his crotch and flourishing a large knife that he pulled from his belt.
    “Eh, woman. You like what you see? You nice, maybe I don’t cut—”
    Whack!
    Ariel jumped.
    The man fell to the ground, blood running from the side of his head.
    The woman approached him with the bloody stick in her hand. She knew it had been a good plan to take it.
    “ When you have to shoot, shoot—don’t talk ,” she said. The first words she had said in more than two days, the first words her damaged throat and vocal cords could manage. The voice did not sound like her own. It was hoarse and scratchy. It was a voice that might have come from a hard life, cigarettes, and whiskey. But it wasn’t. It was a voice shaped by an unprovoked vicious attack against her that had left her injured and angry.
    “Maria . . . ,” whispered Ariel.
    The woman looked back at her and said, “That wasn’t Maria. That was Lindsay.”

Chapter 4
    Diane ran across the room, sliding to a stop in her sock-clad feet when she reached the closed door. She reached for the doorknob and stopped.
    What’s the rule about fires and closed doors?
    She couldn’t remember. Something about oxygen and blowback. Or was it blowup ?
    She had to do something. She touched her finger gently to the doorknob. It was not hot. She turned the knob and opened the door just a crack to see what would happen.
    No explosion, no burst of flame, just a billow of smoke and a shower of soot from above. She opened the door and stepped into the Maya display room. She could see some kind of liquid flowing across the floor in her direction. Above the moving liquid and advancing toward her was a burning layer of gases and flame. The alarm was blaring its warning and the sprinkler system was spraying a rain of water, making the smoke and soot worse, but the fire was continuing to burn. The smell of kerosene filled her nostrils.
    Water on a kerosene fire , she thought. Not the best solution, but the only one available until help could arrive.
    She retreated back into the lab, wet a paper towel at the sink and put it over her mouth, and went back into the exhibit room, skirting the edge of the fire. The injured man who had been on the floor was gone and she couldn’t see Rufus