Just before ten we headed for the local airfield where a small, six-passenger plane waited to fly us to Manaus. We arrived there shortly after noon, but that wasn’t the end of our travels. We still had to find transportation to the dock on the river, where a chartered boat waited to take us up the sss to Carlos’s camp.
The same camp I’d seen in my dream a few nights before? Because to my surprise, I’d found bits and pieces of that dream coming back to me. I shook my head at the nonsensical thought. The dream was just a dream, nothing prophetic, and most likely brought on by the jungle movie Carlos had taken me to see in Rio and his mention of the men he’d left in camp.
“I wish you’d worn a dress, Dinah,” Sam grumbled sotto voce.
“I’m not going to tea.”
“No, but…everyone’s going to thin
