Chapter Twelve: Homeward Bound

In most ways, the journey home felt much slower than the journey out, and Richard felt largely responsible for that. His handicap meant that the group was no longer able to traverse the ground level one at a time. They could no longer risk Richard being caught out there on his own without immediate backup. They had to move forward as a single unit, keeping a keen eye out for trouble and moving very slowly to keep their footfalls as soft as possible. Along the rooftops, they could move quicker, except when it came to the connecting bridges. Hampered by his boot, crossing those bridges was a very slow, very careful process for Richard, sometimes requiring him to take it on his hands and knees. Obviously, all of this made the journey feel a lot slower.

But in other ways, it seemed oddly faster. For one thing, they weren't making any stops along the way. Having collected everything they set out to get, there was no need to stop and search any of the buildings they passed. They also didn't have to change their route in order to include a certain destination; they could take the most direct path straight back to Mount Esmée. And given the fact that their route through the city had so far led them in an oblong circle, they weren't that far removed from the edge of the jungle now. In that respect, Richard felt their journey back was actually a little easier. He tried to focus on that, and not on how very much like a toddler he felt, wobbling forward in shaky steps at a sloth's pace.

Still, all things considered, they really did make good time. The bright disc of the sun had just slipped below the horizon as they made it to the edge of Honoré. The sky was still enjoying its afterglow and the team briefly considered just pressing on. Traveling through the jungle after nightfall, as perilous as that may seem under normal circumstances, was actually much safer than trying to navigate the crypto-infested city at night, and they were all three quite keen to get back to camp. After all, when Holden had first awoken Richard (and Camille) to say it was time to send out a team, he did look rather urgent. Richard hated that they had already postponed Trevor's procedure by two days while they searched for the supplies. Waiting another night, when home was just a few hours trek up the mountain, seemed like such a waste of time.

But the one fact that they couldn't deny was right in front of them. Or…below them. Richard's foot would keep them from being able to comfortably traverse the jungle floor at any great speed. More than likely, if they continued now, they would eventually be forced to stop somewhere for the night anyway. And none of them were very keen on the idea of sleeping in the open jungle, Richard least of all. A rooftop was much safer. So they decided to camp there for the night and set out again in the morning, hopefully making it back to camp by noon or a little after.

The food they had brought along was getting rather low, but they shared a packet of cashews and a sleeve of crumbled crackers. They hadn't exactly thought out their water conservation, as both of these meal items were rather dry and coated the mouth with a thick layer of edible dust, but they had all mostly run out of water. A tiny bit remained in Ronnie's bottle, and they endeavored to split that amongst themselves as evenly as they were able.

Then, it was time to settle down again for another night under the Caribbean stars. Richard volunteered to take first watch, knowing that he had done the least amount of work today and the others deserved to rest. They didn't argue.

Unlike the previous night, this one was quiet, removed from the overactive hive that was the center of the city. There was also a fairly robust easterly breeze that swept over them, chilling away the normal tropical heat and sending whispers through the tree tops. If Richard didn't know any better, he might even describe the night as peaceful. A rarity in a life spent constantly warding off death. He felt lucky. If his team managed to dip in and out of that lion's den with little more than a broken foot to show for it, then they were lucky indeed.

For a moment, a scene flashed through his mind, the clan of cryptos closing in on Camille as she struggled to climb that building. The fear Richard had felt swell within him in that moment was unlike anything he had ever felt before. It was different even from the moment when Dwayne was charged down by one. In the case of the latter, Richard had feared losing one of his best friends. He stood suspended in reality, faced with the prospect of watching Dwayne die. Obviously, he couldn't cope with the thought of that, and so he acted, impulsively. But when it was Camille, it felt different. He wasn't an outside observer watching a friend teeter on the edge of death. It was as if Richard's own life was being threatened, his own world was hanging in the balance. When he jumped down onto that street, stomped on the ground to gain their attention, it didn't feel like a heroic redirect at all, because whether the cryptos closed in on their initial target, or whether they diverted to him instead, it didn't matter, Richard would die either way.

But somehow, against all odds, they had both survived. And Richard's life had remained whole. At least for now.

The night wore on and Richard let the stars disappearing behind the jungle's canopy be his time piece. When his selected constellation had finally disappeared from view, he reckoned that had to have been around four hours. He hobbled over to Ronnie and gingerly shook the other man's shoulder, easing him to wakefulness.

No words were exchanged. Ronnie just clasped Richard on the shoulder in acknowledgement, rolling onto his back. He slapped his hand into the detective's, welcoming the help in hoisting himself onto his feet.

As Ronnie took his post, Richard took his own, settling himself down beside Camille and curling around her back. He immediately became aware of her body jittering in an invisible shiver against the cold as she slept. He fitted himself to the shape of her more tightly, sharing as much warmth with her as he could, and then he closed his arm around her. After eight or nine seconds, the shivering stopped.


The next morning, Ronnie woke them when the sky was lit in a pale orange. "Time to get up, sleepy heads," he told them. "We've got a job to finish."

A few minutes were spent stretching and rousing themselves, but there wasn't much of a "camp" to pack up again, so they were soon on their way. Richard was a little ungraceful in his dismount from the final rooftop, but once he was down, he did feel relieved to be back on solid ground. As awkward as walking was, climbing in his boot was an absolute joke, whether it was up or down. He was sure he would find things about the jungle to complain about too, but for now, he was glad to be done with the rooftops of Honoré.

And the jungle did offer its fair share of problems. The terrain was softer, but much more uneven than the roofs had been, and this had resulted in Richard tipping over a number of times. The falls were always oddly slow so they never did any damage. It was mostly the way Camille and Ronnie would fight to hide their giggles that truly hurt his pride.

The journey uphill was slower than down, which was no surprise. They were also loaded down with supplies on the return, not to mention sporting an injury in their party. They took lots of breaks, mostly to keep Richard's foot from being overworked. Their water and food supply had run out the night before, so the breaks were not as restorative as they otherwise might have been, but they all used the time to at least rest their tired limbs. Malnourishment and dehydration were two very unwelcomed companions on their journey thus far, so the group was careful with how hard they pushed their bodies on this final leg of the journey.

The boot Ronnie had fashioned had done a lot of work to relieve the pain Richard felt when walking, but of course, it couldn't counter all of it. It helped to stop down every now and then to elevate his leg for a bit and get the blood to circulate back up into the rest of his body. On one such break, sometime around noon, Camille and Ronnie finally convinced him to take another pain killer. That helped.

Richard guessed it must have been around mid-afternoon when they finally broke into a part of the jungle he recognized very well. About thirty minutes after that, they started hearing a familiar chatter. A few minutes after that, sounds were accompanied by sights, and Richard felt himself sigh with relief. It was almost over.

When they finally got in view of the camp, they could see several people out around the mouth of the cave, the usual hustle and bustle of camp life, with perhaps a little more activity surrounding a rather large pile of rather large branches. A fire was burning and several people were obviously busy cooking the camp meal, while others were shaking out their blankets and hitting them with branches to release little dust clouds. Others still were sitting in a little half circle, tearing huge leafs into long strips. Off about fifty feet away from the center of camp, a large blue tarp had been hung between two trees as a kind of tent. That certainly hadn't been there when they left.

"They're back!" called a familiar voice, and a very happy-looking Dwayne was soon upon them. He pointed at a random teen. "You! Go tell the doctor!"

The trio slowed to a stop as people surrounded them and took their packs from their shoulders, giving them all a hearty welcome home. Hands were shaken and backs were clapped, maybe one or two hugs were had, and Ronnie, Richard, and Camille soon had all sorts of fruits and nourishments thrust upon them. "Welcome back!" Dwayne said, slinging Camille's bag over his arm.

"Yes! You all made good time! We weren't expecting you back until tomorrow, maybe the day after," Fidel said, shaking Ronnie's hand.

"Well, a stroke of genius on Camille's part meant that we knocked off a good portion of our grocery list pretty early in the excursion," Richard explained, peeling a stout banana.

"But hey-o, what happened here?" Dwayne said, as if noticing Richard's boot for the first time.

"Ah, yes, that. Lost a foot race, I'm afraid."

"Umm…does that mean what I think it means?" he directed this question not to Richard but to his two companions, who both nodded in reply. Then, watching Camille a moment longer as she too peeled a banana and bit into it, Dwayne asked, "And what about you? Lose in a face race?"

She brought a hand up to her cheek, just remembering the scrape. She swallowed hurriedly and said, "Uh, no. Pirates."

"Uh-HA!"

The laugh came out of nowhere, like clapping an inflated paper bag with a startling POP! and everyone turned to stare at the detective inspector in stunned silence.

Richard placed a hand over his heart, an entirely serious expression on his face, and confessed, "I have no idea where that came from."

"Well this is a surprise, I must say!" Holden's voice came from the back of the crowd. People instinctively parted to let him pass. "Honestly didn't expect you lot back for at least another day." He smiled at them warmly and shook their hands.

"What, and miss Christmas?" Ronnie said, taking back his bag from the person who had kindly relieved him of it. Then he handed it to Holden, saying, "For you, doctor. Saw it in the window and knew you had to have it."

Holden looked back and forth between Ronnie and Richard, a hesitant smirk and a quirked eye brow slowly being turned down to look inside the pack. His jaw fell open as he rifled through just the top layer of supplies in the tightly-packed satchel. "What all's in here?"

"As much as we could find," Richard answered. "You've got the three bags worth, plus a little more in our pockets. I'd only trust you to take a proper inventory, but I think we got your list pretty well covered."

"Well with the little I've seen so far, I think it's fair to say, you've done better than I thought you would. No offense."

"None taken," Camille replied.

"Xylocaine! How many vials is that?" the doctor said, his excitement starting to bubble a bit now.

"I think eleven," Richard answered.

Holden looked up from the bag again, the grin on his face making him look very much like a boy on Christmas day indeed. The doctor ordered that a few people help him take the bags up to the cave, along with the few other items the three travelers were carrying on their persons, so that he could do as Richard suggested and take a "proper inventory." Ronnie went with them.

"What about your foot?" Camille asked, watching as the newly stocked doctor scurried away.

"Ah, leave him to it. He has bigger fish to fry," Richard said, before turning in the same breath to Fidel and asking, "So what's all this then?" He gestured to the pile of lumber Fidel and several others had been surrounding when they first walked up.

"Oh, the barricade, sir," Fidel answered. Truth be told, Richard had altogether forgotten about the last bit of instruction he had given Fidel before they parted ways several days ago. Of course, in keeping with his ever diligent personality, Fidel was not likely to forget about it as easily. And now that Richard knew what the pile represented, he could see that the young police sergeant had made very good progress on assembling the materials necessary for a barricade. In just a matter of time, their little camp would be well protected against oncoming, surface-side cryptos.

"That's right, very Les Miserables," Camille observed.

"Excuse me, but the concept of erecting a barricade is hardly a French invention," Richard said, a little testy.

"Oui, but we made it famous," she countered.

"You did indeed, and when we all start mounting it in pointless song, then I'd agree it's very French. But until that happens (and God save us if it does), it's just a standard English barricade."

The woman's hands yanked to perch on her hips, an obvious tempest stirring inside her. "What makes it ENGLISH?"

"Alright, Caribbean then! The point is: Not French."

"It's just, really great to have you both back," Dwayne said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice, and Fidel snorted.

"Anyway," Sergeant Best continued, "we've just started the process, but we were thinking we'd start about there…" Fidel pointed up towards the side of the cave entrance, where the mountain shot up in a steep cliff face. He turned slowly, drawing an invisible line with his point, "taking it along that ridge there, just in front of these trees, then cutting between those two, before connecting again with the mountain around over there."

Richard nodded at the plan. The circumference Fidel had just outlined would be near enough to the camp's entrance to not require an additional patrol to guard it at night (their usual lookout at the mouth of the cave should suffice), while also being out far enough that the camp members would be able to be within its borders throughout the day to go about their usual chores. Richard summarized this verbally and then capped it off with a, "Well thought out."

Fidel bristled with pride, "Thank you, sir."

"And the method you had in mind in terms of the barricade design?"

"An X, with a cross beam to stabilize it," the other man answered, placing his forefinger in the webbing between the forefinger and middle finger on his other hand. "About…a hundred times," he said, dropping his hands.

"Sounds…reasonable."

"That is, unless you had a different plan?"

Richard stuck out his bottom lip and shrugged. "Not at all. I see no reason to interfere; you obviously have this well in hand. Please carry on, Sergeant."

"Thank you, sir!" Fidel answered, beaming once again. Then he returned to his work crew, a new authority in his voice as he told them, "So this length is perfect, but we need a lot more. Come with me."

"You look like you could use a sit, Chief," Dwayne said, suddenly reminding his colleagues that he was still standing there. He took one of Richard's arms and braced it over his shoulder, helping guide him over to one of the logs around the campfire. Camille followed beside them.

"You know," Dwayne went on. "A lot happened when you were away. These three kids just showed up a day after you left. Walkin' up out of the jungle."

"What?" Camille asked, aghast. She took the word right out of Richard's mouth.

"I know," answered Dwayne. "Shocked us all, too. Teenagers. Just made it up the mountain themselves after seeing the X."

"Blimey. That thing's still working, eh?"

"I'd say so. The doctor's had us resume daily checks on it on our water runs to make sure it's still hanging alright. Who knows how many more people will see it and come our way."

"That's exciting," Camille said, helping to lower Richard down onto the log before joining beside him.

"Also, me and some other guys have been setting up this medical hut, at the doctor's orders."

"So I noticed," Richard observed, looking over at the blue tarp again. "I suppose that's where he plans to do the surgery?"

Dwayne nodded, "He said he wouldn't cut into a human body in the middle of a dank, dripping cave."

Camille shrugged, "Makes sense."

"Where'd you get the tarp?"

Dwayne smirked a little, "nicked it from the X." When Richard gave him a look, the copper leapt to his own defense. "It will go right back up when the doctor's done with it. In the meantime, one of the sides is just a little shorter is all. And at any rate, the X still seems to be working. Those three kids are a sign of that."

"Amazing that they made it all the way here on their own," Camille observed, but any further discussion of the impressive children was cut short by a heavyset, jaunty woman coming over with two tin cups in her hands.

"I heard you were back! Must say, I was worried about you kids, out in that dreadful place over night. Several nights! You must be stuffed. Here, drink up! Before you faint. You too!"

Without further preamble, the woman placed the cups to Richard's and Camille's lips respectfully and started to tilt. The detectives both made a few startled gurgles as they reached up to take the cups in their own hands and control the rate of the pour a little more conservatively. Richard was still wiping the spilled moisture from his beard when the woman spoke again.

"That's better. Now, Inspector, would you like to introduce me to your friend?"

"Yes," he said between a few clearing coughs. His throat had to adjust to the feeling of moisture again, but he was glad for it. Already, his voice was starting to feel more at home in his own mouth. "Mrs. Beecher, this is Detective Sergeant Camille Bordey. Camille, this is Mrs. Beecher. She's-"

"I'm his nan."

Richard screwed up his face and cocked his head to the side at that declaration.

Mrs. Beecher reached forward and shook Camille's hand with a warm smile, adding, "Unofficially."

"I see," Camille said, obvious amusement in her eyes as she shot a quick glance at Richard. "The camp nan, is it?"

"That's right," Mrs. Beecher beamed. "Someone's got to look after these boys if they're going to be the ones looking after everyone else. Though I dare to think I might not have to look out for this one quite so much, now that he's found someone to cozy up with. So lonely before."

"Uh," was all of a response Richard had time for before Mrs. Beecher barreled onward.

"I would have introduced myself sooner. Except that you seemed rather busy right after your arrival the other day, and then you two were gone when I woke up the next morning."

"Yes, the doctor thought we should head out right away for the medical supplies," Camille answered, moving the conversation along and mercifully sparing Richard from extended discussion of his cozying habits.

"Yeah, that Booker. He's been a busy beaver since you left. I could hardly get him to settle down yesterday for supper. I think he'll try to do that surgery this afternoon, I shouldn't wonder, now that you're back."

"I reckon you're probably right," Dwayne replied. "He's been stocking the medical tent for the last two days, trying to sanitize the inside with tons of boiling water. I think he thinks it's about ready."

Dwayne was right. In about an hour, Holden had taken full inventory of everything that had been gathered in Honoré, and soon after, he called a group of men to carry Trevor carefully down the slope and take him into the tent. It was clear that some sort of plan had been laid out by the good doctor before the supplies even arrived, because everything went like clockwork. A group immediately stoked a second campfire and began boiling water for sterilization. Loads of towels and linens were carried into the tent. Holden scrubbed, along with two others: Haley Matheson, who Richard knew worked as a dental hygienist, and a middle aged woman Richard didn't recognize but who arrived with Camille's group and was evidently a veterinarian.

It was hard not to feel useless as everyone in the camp seemed to step into carefully laid out roles while Richard stayed sat on a log, twiddling his thumbs. Eventually able to resist the urge no longer, Richard stood and hobbled over to his friend. "Doctor, is there anything I can do?" he asked.

"You've done it," Holden replied without looking up, waving his hands to dry them from his washing up. Another young lady came up to Holden and held open a latex glove for him. He waved his hand for a few seconds longer before slipping it into the glove.

"Oh, and don't think I've forgotten about you," the doctor said, turning to look at Richard and casting a notable glance down at his foot. "Ronnie told me about your excitement with the crypto. I'll want to have a look at it just as soon as the boy's sorted."

Richard waved a hand dismissively. "It's fine."

"It's broken," Camille corrected, alerting Richard to the fact that she was standing directly behind him.

"Well if that's the case, then there is something you can do for me," Holden said as his second hand snapped and squeaked into the latex. "Go back to feeling anxious on that bench over there. God knows you've been on your feet enough today."

Richard barely restrained a huff of annoyance at being brushed off. Still, he couldn't stop himself from saying snidely, "Bit generous calling a felled tree a 'bench,' isn't it?"

"Bit generous calling me a 'surgeon,' and yet here we are," Holden answered, turning to Richard and displaying his arms out wide. "The age of generosity."

The doctor went to move past them, stopping to smile at Richard's companion. "Ms. Bordey, I still feel like we've never gotten to meet under normal circumstances. Consider this an IOU for a proper handshake a little later."

Camille smiled back and answered, "That sounds acceptable."

But something about Holden's little self-deprecating joke had troubled Richard, so before the doctor could walk away, he called out his name, making Holden stop and look at him once more. "Are you going to be alright?"

The smile Camille had left on the doctor's face quickly fell away, and the quiet worry of a man in over his head took its place. "Ask me that in an hour," he said at last, and then turned to enter the surgical tent.

But Richard couldn't ask him in an hour, not even two, because the operation just went on and on. The camp tried to function as normal. People continued with their daily routines. The camp meal was served as usual, but instead of the rowdy hum of congregation conversation, a much quieter murmuring took its place as people ate. It was the tension; the whole camp felt it. Every once in a while, Haley Matheson would poke her head out of the tent, barking orders for someone to fetch them more of something. As night began to fall, Richard ordered the camp to surrender all of their lanterns and flashlights, which everyone was happy to do, and the tent was illuminated, like a pretty blue nightlight in a child's bedroom.

Richard alternated between pacing like a madman and sitting on the non-bench to rest his leg. It wasn't immediately obvious to him whether his foot was actually improving, or whether he had simply been too distracted to feel the pain, but either way, he found himself pacing more often than sitting. Camille, Catherine, and Mrs. Beecher all kept vigil with Trevor's mother, Michelle, lending the woman as much comfort as they were able to muster between the three of them. Richard tried not to look over in that direction too often.

He couldn't look at Michelle without feeling nauseous. He was plagued by this feeling that they had waited too long, that they should have gone out and collected the supplies for this procedure much earlier than this. And perhaps if Richard had not been so paranoid about the dangers of Honoré, they could have had this surgery when Trevor was stronger.

Richard crashed down onto the bench again with a huff, dropping his head into his hands. He scratched his fingers over his scalp, mussing his hair in the process, but it was always somewhat messy these days. He latched on to a clump of hair and tugged, not enough to hurt, just enough to distract. He wished this was a case, wished there were clues to analyze, timelines to scrutinize, questions to ask. But there was nothing. Nothing at all to occupy him or make this time pass a little more painlessly. He just had to…wait. With everyone else.

That moment, he heard someone approaching his space. For the most part, this was an exception rather than a rule. People had mostly left him alone in his pacing and thinking. But when he glanced up, he wasn't altogether surprised to see Camille.

"Come," she said. "It's time to go to bed."

"But-" he looked over to the place where Camille had been previously sitting. Catherine sat with her arm around Trevor's mother.

"Maman is going to wait with her."

"But what about-" Richard's eyes began to drift over to the tent, but Camille stepped forward, invading his space.

"Shh," she told him, running both hands through his hair, like he had done just a few short minutes ago. His skin prickled and he sighed. "There's nothing else for you to do, Richard. It's in the doctor's hands now, and we've been up since dawn. Your worries aren't going to help that boy. And neither will mine. Come on; come to bed."

Richard just stared up at her. He really was exhausted, too exhausted to even formulate a reply. All he could do was stare. Camille reached into his lap and grabbed his hands, stepping back gently to coax him to his feet. He followed her. She turned away from him slowly, putting her arms behind her back and continuing to tow him in her wake. He followed her some more.

When they got to the steep incline of the cave entrance, she had to loop her arm around him for a more secure hold. The smooth bottom of the boot was not good at gripping the loose terrain and so he had to take the steepest part sideways, like he was wearing skis. Eventually, they made it into the cave and the ground leveled out. With nearly all of the camp's lights being put to work in the tent outside, the interior of the cave was almost pitch black. Camille resumed her position in the lead, holding his hands behind her back, and she carefully felt along the cave floor with her feet, listening to Richard's whispered words of guidance behind her. "No, no. Not far enough. A bit more along this wall." Like that, the two cautiously made their way through the cave and back over to their little pad.

Camille crawled in first, feeling around with her hands to reacquaint herself with the space. She repositioned the little pillow and pulled aside the blanket. She snuggled down into the mossy padding and then said ever so quietly, "Okay."

At her word, she heard Richard start to move, carefully lowering himself down to join her. They mingled in one another's space, sharing breathing room and feeling to locate each other's positions in the dark. It took some finagling to find a good spot for Richard's clunky foot to rest, but when they had, Camille laid back and Richard followed her down, tucking himself into the crook of her arm, letting Camille situate the blanket over them. When he closed his eyes, he noticed no change from the darkness of the cave, but the sound of Camille's steady heartbeat was a welcomed lullaby.


Author's Note: Yay! The team is home again, safe and sound! I really hope you all are still enjoying this story. We are steadily closing in on the conclusion of Act Two, which means there are some important turns in the chapters ahead. So stay tuned for that! And in the meantime, I would love to hear your thoughts on this chapter! :)