“Is this that important?” she asked.

He stopped and stared at her. 

“You have no idea,” he said. “This is worth everything. Everything!”

“Even your life?”

“Yes! Even my life.”

He means it. There is a rare determination in his voice. The kind that follows trouble.

“One million euro! I will transfer the money right now.” he said, opening his bank account on his phone. “You may not care about money, mon cheri. But unlike your scary friends, your tribe has contact with civilization. Your young generation is hooked on iphones and spend time watching videos on youtube and tiktok. You became dependent on your corrupt government to get food, medicine and even clothes. So imagine what one million euro could do to help your tribe. Sure, it won’t solve all their problems, but it would go a long way.”

He showed her the phone to prove he wasn’t lying. There really was a transfer of one million euro ready to be approved to her tribe chief’s bank account. Her impulse was to slap the phone away from his hand but he was right about what he said. That money could save lives. The contact with the white men brought diseases only their medicine could heal. So the question was: would she be ok to risk her life in order to save several others from her tribe? The answer was obvious, as much as she hated how he went about it.

“Make the transfer.” she said through gritted teeth.

“Done!” He said excitedly and showed her the phone screen. 

“But we’re gonna do this my way. No more talking unless I ask you a question. And when I say run, you fucking run. Got it?”

He nodded.

“And one more thing, Mr Chevalier.”

“Say it.”

“After this, I never want to see your face again.” 

“I don’t think you will,” he said. “So… let’s go?”

“Yes. Let’s go. And now… shut up.”

The unlikely duo veered off the open trail and moved carefully through the dense vegetation at a slow and steady pace. Mr Chevalier followed the Yanomami guide to the best of his abilities, which were close to none. The trees were as tall as buildings and the bushes and plants in between them towered over both of their heads. They dared not hack at them with machetes, because the unnecessary noise could denounce their presence. Instead, they just used their hands and arms to move them away, which eventually caused some scratches to the skin and ripped new holes to Mr Chevalier’s clothes. 

Amy would often look back to check on him and, although he was doing a good job at keeping with her pace, it came with a price. The sun was at its peak and Mr Chevalier’s skin was so red and tender he looked like he had been cooked. She noticed he had his last sip of water half an hour ago, his lips were dry and he was dehydrating pretty fast. She shared the last of her water with him and then changed course as if searching for something.

Mr Chevalier noticed the detour, prompting him to dig his phone out of his pocket. He opened the app, dripping sweat on the phone screen and, just as he suspected, Amy was, once again, moving away from their destination. A pop up message warned him his phone battery was running low, so he knew he had no other option but to close the app, turn off the phone and just trust she knew what she was doing and that she would take him where he wanted to go. He let out a long sigh in frustration which didn’t go unnoticed to her but which she chose to ignore.

After only a few minutes, they stopped by a tree with several thick vines hanging down around it. She carefully chose one of the thickest ones and swiftly hacked at it with her machete, making a clean cut at the bottom with a single strike then cutting the top of the vine in similar fashion. Water began to drip from the bottom end of the vine and she raised it above her head, letting a few drops hit her tongue. After she tasted it and cleared it for drinking, she used the vine to fill both of their canteens. It wasn’t a fast process but Mr Chevalier could use the time to sit down and rest all his aching body muscles. 

This adventure in the Amazon Rainforest made him realize that Amy wasn’t barely naked. She was actually properly dressed for that environment and he was the one who was overdressed. With that realization, he removed his shirt and put it inside his backpack. The thought of stripping himself down to his underwear crossed his mind but he was still an European man used to wearing a bunch of clothes and psychologically he felt more protected with them. Removing the shirt was already a small step in the right direction, he thought.

Once both canteens were filled and their bodies rested, Amy waved him over and they resumed their trekking at a faster pace. 

After another hour, the sound of running water and heavy machinery denounced they were close to the illegal mining operation. 

Amy stopped and looked around. She drew her machete, twirling it around in her hand as she breathed harder. It was the first time Mr Chevalier saw her nervous. Well, there was also that time he called her half canadian. But this was a different kind of nervousness. This wasn’t anger. It was fear.

Mr Chevalier turned on his phone again and checked the app. It showed they were but a few paces from their destination. 

Hesitantly he poked her shoulder and showed her the map on the screen. She looked at it and nodded in acknowledgement.

They pressed forward at a very slow pace, as if their lives were at risk in every step. The forest was becoming less dense, the vegetation between the trees was thin and smaller, making them feel exposed and forcing them to walk in a crouched position. Hacked bushes and fallen trees showed the miners had cleared this area to set their camp, which was already visible further ahead in a clearing.

A very shallow stream crossed the camp area, and many tents and huts gave them a notion of the size of this operation. There were probably dozens of men working on the site but the camp itself was clear.

Amy took a few steps toward the camp to have a better look. A few more steps and she would be out in the open. She remained hidden behind a thick tree and took a better look of the camp. Following with her eyes the direction of the shallow stream she found what they were looking for. The stream disappeared into a cave, about twenty meters east of the camp. In fact, the cave entrance seemed like an extension of the camp as they stored several crates inside it to protect them against the weather. In front of the entrance, two men played cards using empty crates as a makeshift table and chairs. An almost full bottle of liquor sat on the ground by their feet. 

Amy reached close to Mr Chevalier and whispered as low as possible to his ear.

“We sit tight and wait. There are still a few hours of sunlight left. First opportunity we have, we go.”

He nodded to her. He was fine with another opportunity to stop moving and rest some more. He leaned against a tree and took a sip of water while Amy kept watch at both men.

A full hour must have gone by and sunlight already started to dim. The two men were still concentrating on their card game until one of them emptied the bottle while filling their glasses.

“I’ll get another one.” one said and stood up, moving towards the camp and walking a bit wobbly.

“Alright. I’ll take a piss”, said the other one, standing up and walking in Amy's direction.

Mr Chevalier retreated to crouch behind a tree and make himself less visible as possible.

Amy sheathed her machete and put her back against the tree, gluing her arms to her side. The drunk man zigzagged into the woods, whistling a tune as he unzipped his pants and started relieving himself on the same tree behind which Amy was hiding.

Mr Chevalier met Amy’s gaze. She didn’t have to say anything to him or make any gesture. Her eyes said it all. There was no more fear in them. Instead, there was the wild focus of a predator about to pounce its prey. 

Amy slowly circled out of hiding and in a few steps repositioned herself behind the drunk man. 

“Wha…” was all he could say before she jumped on his back, locked her legs around his waist and slid her right forearm under his neck, using her left arm to help squeeze the air out of him.

She was constricting him like a snake. Every movement of his only made her adjust her hold, making it tighter and adding more and more pressure. In a matter of seconds, the man fell on his knees, drooling and flailing his arms weakly before dropping unconscious face first to the ground.

Amy fell on top of him and continued squeezing him for a few more seconds, only to be sure, then finally released him and stood up, staring down at the man in disgust.

She waved Mr Chevalier over and he walked to her side.

“Is he dead?” he whispered.

“Sadly, no.” she whispered and took a few steps toward the outskirts of the woods peeking at the camp from behind a tree. The pathway to the cave seemed safe and the other man was nowhere to be seen. 

“Let’s go.” she whispered again and sprinted to the cave entrance.

Mr Chevalier tried to follow but couldn’t move. Something was holding him back. A branch pierced his pants through one of its many holes. Amy was already at the cave entrance, waving at him to come over, unaware of him being stuck. 

Tensions grew as he tried to shake his pants free while taking glances at the camp to see if the other man was returning. He already felt exhausted by the heat, was drenched in sweat and his body felt like it had very little strength left in it. Still, he took a deep breath and yanked his leg as hard as he could, getting it finally free from the branch but ripping a bigger hole in his pants in the process.

“Shit! My phone!” he cursed under his breath. 

The new hole was right under his pocket, dropping his phone to the ground. 

Amy didn’t know what to do. Should she go back there and help him or stay put in case the other drunk man came back? 

I can hide inside the cave and jump on the man if he returns. 

Mr Chevalier was on his knees, palming the ground to try to find his phone hidden underneath  all the foliage. 

“Finally!” He said and stood up raising his phone to show Amy. He rushed out of the woods and into the clearing just as the other brute came out of a hut holding a full bottle of cachaça. 

“What the hell…?” the brute said, staring at Mr Chevalier and taking a few seconds to process what was going on. 

“Run!” Amy shouted at Mr Chevalier from the cave entrance and, as promised before, he fucking ran.

The brute looked puzzled at Mr Chevalier and then at Amy. When his brain finished processing what was going on, he dropped the bottle on the ground and reached for his gun, but he was just as nervous as the two trespassers. By the time the gun was in his hand and he shakily aimed at them, the two were already gone inside the cave. He still fired two shots into the darkness, hoping for a lucky hit, then ran after them. 

The sound of the gunshots echoed in the forest, causing a few flock of birds to flap their wings away from nearby trees. 

“Where the fuck is Steve?” the man cursed while sprinting towards the cave. There was no time to wait for his partner. He had to deal with these intruders himself or risk getting punished by his boss. Or worse.