directly above them, obscured by a few fast-moving clouds. It's only noon. She won't make it to nightfall, not even close. Beside her, Jacob looks even worse than she does, confused and dazed. His eyes seem to have lost the ability to focus.
"I can't make it," Veronica says dully.
Derek turns to her. Even he looks drained now, but his voice is still strong. "Yes you can. It won't be much further. We must be over the border by now. You'll be fine."
She tries to laugh but it comes out as a whimper. "I sure don't feel fine."
"You will be. I promise."
She manages a sick caricature of a smile. "Thanks."
"Breathe deep, into your belly. It helps."
She nods and tries to follow his advice. After a few dozen inhalations it occurs to her that the water break should be over, the one-eyed man should be harrying them onwards. She looks around. Their abductors are staring warily into the sky, and there is a faint sound in the distance, odd yet familiar.
"Helicopter," Derek breathes, and as he speaks, she too recognizes the growing whopwhopwhop.
The one-eyed man issues a curt command. Someone grabs Veronica from behind and pushes her down. She doesn't need much encouragement to lie face-down, taking her weight from her tortured feet is bliss. The mud is smooth and damp on her cheek, the earth smells rich and full of life.
The helicopter noise grows until it is directly overhead. Veronica wants to just stay where she is and rest, but she makes herself roll to her side and look up. The aircraft is flying low over the jungle, almost directly overhead, hanging in the sky like a huge white insect. The letters UN are written in blue on its side. She wonders if it is a regular flight from the peacekeeping mission in the Congo, or if it is searching for them. That's possible. Eight abducted Western tourists will be big news, worldwide headlines.
She tries to hope, but she knows the helicopter won't see them. From above this jungle looks like an opaque sea of green. But it's at least a sign that maybe someone is trying to rescue them. Maybe a group of park guards and Ugandan soldiers is trying to follow their trail right now. Maybe the rescue mission has pygmies too. Maybe they'll be here any moment now. If only they could somehow signal the helicopter, start a fire or something. There is a cigarette lighter in the half-empty pack of Marlboro Lights in the side pocket of Veronica's cargo pants. She can feel the pack against her leg. She should have told Derek, he could have gotten it out, like he told her to get his Leatherman. But it's not like they could start a fire with these damp ferns and dripping vines anyways.
The helicopter drifts across the sky. Its noise diminishes. After a few minutes the prisoners are dragged back to their feet. Veronica whimpers as she is forced to start walking again. Her legs and lungs feel a little stronger, but her headache has grown so vicious it's making her dizzy, and the blisters on her feet have come back to life and are singing with renewed agony. If only she had broken in her new hiking boots before coming to Africa. If only they had not been kidnapped.
* * *
Veronica has given up any hope of this journey ever ending, she focuses now only on getting through the next few steps, and then the next few, and then the next. She seems to be losing sensation in her legs, but that must be a good thing, because the sensation is mostly pain. Her shoulders keep getting worse, and she is starting to feel pins and needles in her hands. Worst of all is her thirst. They are never given enough water. The vicious pain behind her eyes is almost blinding now. She is vaguely aware this is probably from dehydration. Behind her Jacob is moaning with every breath.
They stumble forward in a collective stupor. Veronica slips and falls several times on the uneven ground, all of them do, but they are all quick to get up as soon as possible. Even in the abyss of their exhaustion they know that tardiness will be met with torture or murder.
Eventually she becomes vaguely aware of a noise like a sighing wind sweeping across the jungle. At first she thinks the drops of water on her face are windblown, but they keep coming, faster and harder, and