Chapter 28
The transition from the salt-scoured air of the Atlantic to the humid, suffocating embrace of the sss was like stepping into a fever dream. We landed on a dirt strip three hundred miles north of Manaus, the bush plane’s engine coughing one last time before falling silent. Here, the canopy was so Sense it felt like the sky had been replaced by a ceiling of emerald glass.
The heat wrapped around my skin instantly, a living thing that clung and refused to let go. Sweat bloomed along my spine before I had taken three steps, soaking into my clothes and making the straps of my pack bite into my shoulders. The jungle did not announce itself with drama; it simply swallowed you whole and waited.
"Welcome to the lungs of the world," Adrian said, jumping down into the red mud. He looked
