The Power of Five Oblivion

them all … the doctor, the assistants and the boy too. Perhaps he would be better off dead. But that wasn’t for Matt to decide. All he knew was that there was nothing he could do. He would have to leave him behind.
    “ Quem são você ?”
    The words came rasping out of the darkness. Matt turned, angry with himself, and saw a guard looming over him, inches away. He had been so fixed on the horror on the other side of the glass, he hadn’t heard him coming and now it was too late. The man was about to raise the alarm and even with his powers, Matt doubted that he could get past the dogs, the drug lord, the men with machine guns. Why had he even concerned himself with a boy he had barely met? His job – his one responsibility – was to get out of here in one piece.
    The man opened his mouth to call out, then stared at Matt, his eyes widening, reflecting the light from the operating theatre. He pitched forward, a knife jutting out of his back. It had been thrown in almost total darkness, twisting twice in the air before it had found its target.
    Lohan ran forward on soundless feet. “Matt?” he whispered.
    “Yes…”
    “I thought I saw you round the other side. What are you doing here?”
    “I was just checking up on someone.”
    Lohan followed Matt’s eyes back through the glass and saw what was happening. He showed no emotion at all and Matt realized that he had smuggled drugs all over Asia and Europe in his time with the Triads. He had probably used children himself. He might even have cut them up if it suited his plans. Lohan was eight years older than Matt, a few inches taller, slim and strangely detached. It was only the thin scar that ran diagonally across his lips that stood out, a reminder of his criminal past. And that was what he was. A criminal. The man he had just killed meant nothing to him. There had almost certainly been dozens of others.
    “These people are bastards.” Lohan muttered the words matter-of-factly. “Do you want to do anything about it?”
    “Yes. But we should leave.”
    “I agree. I have a jeep outside. I’ve seen to the rest of their vehicles. Let’s go.”
    The two of them set off together, leaving the dead guard and the dull glow of the operating theatre behind them. Most of the guards were still grouped around the generator and nobody stopped them as they approached a cluster of vehicles parked near the main entrance. The clouds had parted, allowing a little moonlight to steal through. Matt was grateful for it. They would need it as they navigated their way back through the jungle. Lohan pointed at a jeep and Matt hurried forward, almost tripping over a pair of legs stretched out on the ground beside it. They belonged to another guard, who was lying there with a thin strip of cord around his neck. After spending so long with Richard, Matt still found it hard to get used to a companion who killed people with such ease.
    They climbed into the jeep, quietly closing the doors behind them. Lohan started the engine and at once another guard appeared, blocking the way ahead of them, already swinging his machine gun around. Lohan stamped on the accelerator. The jeep leapt forward and the man dived out of the way. Somebody shouted. But then they were through the gate and off down the track. Matt remembered what Lohan had said. Somehow, without being seen, he had managed to disable all the other cars. They weren’t going to be followed.
    They drove slowly, the stunted trees and bushes sweeping past on both sides. Lohan pointed in the back. “I got you some bread, cheese and water,” he said.
    “Thank you.” Matt reached behind him. He hadn’t eaten for twenty hours and his stomach was growling.
    “It was expensive. It’s a shame we couldn’t get more for you at the market. Your value is going down.”
    “Maybe we should sell you next time,” Matt suggested.
    It had been Lohan’s idea. The two them were going to need money if they had any chance of travelling across Brazil and there was only one easy way to earn it. Lohan had so far sold Matt three times in three different villages, each time pocketing almost two hundred dollars. Then he had come after him and rescued him. The first two times it had been easy. Matt had been chosen for manual labour on farms with hardly any security. But this latest adventure had reminded them both that there were far more unpleasant things happening in Brazil, worse even than human slavery. They might have six hundred dollars in