CHAPTER 32 “What in heaven’s name?”
There had been no further shots, and this worried Bowie more than if there had. He barreled down the trail of broken and trampled grass, heart drumming in his ears.
Dark visions swirled through him: Gaudily painted warriors with spears dragging Mariette off to their camp; hard-faced women kicking her and plucking off her clothes; a shaman preparing to slice off a strip of flesh.
Reason told Bowie he should fear for the others as well. But the truth was, Mariette had been in his thoughts more with each passing day. It was only now, in this moment of panic, that he was forced to face it.
Suddenly, above the crashing of his own body through the grass, he caught the sound of running feet. A bent figure appeared, racing toward him at full tilt. Bowie shou
