Meanwhile, his father remained in South America, helping resettle the Ban-ali tribe. Nate would be rejoining his father in a few more weeks, but he was not the only one heading south. In addition, geneticists were flocking to study the tribe, to investigate the alterations to their DNA, both to understand how it had been achieved and perhaps to discover a way to reverse the species-altering effects of the Yagga. Nate imagined that if any answers ever came, they would be generations away.
His father was also assisted by the two Rangers, Kostos and Carrera, newly promoted and decorated. The pair of soldiers had also overseen the recovery of the bodies. Difficult and heartbreaking work.
Nate sighed. So many lives lost…but so many others saved by the cure their blood had bought. Still, the price was too high.
The sound of approaching footsteps drew Nate’s attention back around. The door opened.
Nate found his smile. “What took you so long? I’ve been waiting here like five minutes.”
Kelly frowned at him, holding a palm to her lower back. “You try lugging this belly around.”
Nate placed a palm on his fiancée’s bulging stomach. She was due in another couple of weeks with their child. The pregnancy had been discovered while Kelly recuperated from the gunshot wound. It seemed Kelly had been infected with the prions during her examination of Gerald Clark’s body back in Manaus. Over the two-week Amazon journey—unbeknownst to her—the prions had healed Kelly’s postparturient infertility, regenerating what had been damaged. It was a timely discovery. If the prions had been left unchecked for even a couple more weeks, the ravaging cancers would have started, but as with her brother, the nut milk was administered in time, and the prions were eradicated before they could do harm.
As a result of this joyous gift, Nate and Kelly had been blessed. During their treetop lovemaking on the eve of Louis’s attack, Nate and Kelly had unwittingly conceived a baby—a brother for Jessie.
They had already chosen a name: Manny.
Nate leaned over and kissed his fiancée.
Distant thunder rolled from the skies.
“The others are waiting,” she mumbled between his lips.
“Let ’em wait,” he whispered, lingering.
Thick raindrops began to fall, tapping at the pavement and rooftop. Thunder rumbled again, and the sprinkle blew into a downpour.
“But shouldn’t we—”
Nate pulled her closer, bringing her lips back to his. “Hush.”
Epilogue
Deep in the Amazon rain forest, nature takes its own course, unseen and undisturbed.
The spotted jaguar nudges its litter of cubs, mewling and whining in the den. His black-coated mate has been gone a long time. He sniffs the air. A whiff of musk. He paces anxiously.
From the jungle shadows, a silhouette breaks free and pads over to him. He huffs his greeting to his larger mate. They busily rub and brush against each other. He smells the bad scent on her. Flames, burning, screaming. It triggers warnings along his spine, bristling his nape. He growls.
His mate crosses to the far side of the glade and digs deep into the soft loam. She drops a knobby seed into the pit, then kicks dirt back over it with her hind legs.
Once done, she crosses to the litter of cubs—some black, some spotted. She sniffs at them. The cubs cry for milk, rolling over one another.
She rubs her mate again and turns her back on the freshly dug hole, the planted seed already forgotten. It is no longer her concern. It is time to move on. She gathers her litter and her mate, and the group heads deeper into the trackless depths of the forest.
Behind, freshly turned soil dries in the afternoon sun.
Unseen and undisturbed.
Forgotten.