Carpathian 23 - Dark Storm

despondent or fatalistic until now. “Stop talking like this, you’re scaring
     me.”
    Annabel struggled into a sitting position. “I’m giving you necessary information,
     Riley. Just as my mother gave it to me. And her mother before her. If I can’t get
     to the mountain, the burden falls on you. You are part of an ancient lineage, and
     we’ve been given a duty that has passed from mother to daughter for centuries. My
     mother took me to this mountain, just as her mother took her. I’ve taken you. You
     are a child of the cloud forest, Riley, born there as I was. You drew your first breath
     on that mountain. You took it into your lungs and with it, the forest and all that
     comes with living, growing things.”
    Annabel shuddered again and reached for the vial Riley held. With shaking hands she
     drew up her shirt to reveal the tiny midges clinging to her stomach, brushing with
     trembling fingers to get them off. Riley took the vial and began smearing the soothing
     gel onto the bites.
    “When my mother told me these things, I thought she was being dramatic and I scoffed
     at her,” Annabel continued. “Oh, not to her face of course, but I thought her so old
     and superstitious. I’d heard the stories of the mountains. We lived in Peru and some
     of the older people in our village still whispered about the great evil that came
     before the Incas and could not be driven away, not even by their most fierce warriors.
     Stories. Dreadful, frightening stories handed down for generations. I thought the
     stories had been passed down mostly to scare the children and keep them from roaming
     too far from the protection of the village, but I learned better after my mother died.
     Something is there, Riley, in the mountain. Something evil, and it’s our job to contain
     it.”
    Riley wanted to believe her mother was delirious with pain, but her eyes were steady—even
     more, afraid. Annabel believed every word she was saying and her mother wasn’t given
     to flights of fancy. More to reassure her mother than because she actually believed
     the nonsense about some evil being trapped inside a mountain, Riley nodded.
    “You’re going to be fine,” she assured. “We’ve been bitten by Manta Blanca on previous
     trips. They aren’t poisonous. Nothing’s going to happen to you, Mom.” She had to say
     the words aloud, needing them to be true. “This was only a bizarre event. We know
     anything can happen in the rain forest . . .”
    “No, Riley.” Annabel caught her daughter’s hand and held it tight. “All the delays . . .
     all the problems since we arrived . . . something is happening. The evil in the mountain
     is deliberately trying to slow me down. It is close to the surface and is orchestrating
     accidents and illness. We have to be realistic, Riley.” Her body shuddered again.
    Riley hunted through her pack and came up with a packet of pills. “Antihistamines,
     Mom, take a couple of these. You’ll probably go to sleep but at least the itching
     will stop for a while.”
    Annabel nodded and swallowed the pills, chasing them with water. “Don’t trust anyone,
     Riley. Any one of these people can be our enemy. We must go our own way as soon as
     possible.”
    Riley bit her lip, refraining from saying anything at all. She needed time to think.
     She was twenty-five years old and had been to the Andes four times, not including
     when she was born in the cloud forest. This was the fifth trip that she remembered.
     The hike through the rain forest had been grueling, but she’d never felt terrified
     as she was now. It was too late to turn back and from what her mother said, it wasn’t
     an option. She needed to let her mother rest, and then they had to talk. She had to
     learn much more about the why of the trip to the Andes.
    She dropped the sheet in place as soon as her mother appeared to be drifting off and
     went out onto the deck. Raul, the porter, glanced at her and looked quickly away,
     clearly uncomfortable with the presence of both women. Goose bumps rose on her arms.
     She rubbed them away, turning to walk along the railing to try to put some distance
     between her and the rest of the passengers. She just needed a little space.
    There wasn’t enough room aboard the boat to find a quiet corner. Jubal and Gary, the
     two researchers, sat together in one of the few secluded spots, and judging from the
     expressions on their faces, they weren’t very happy. She gave them a