The Vivero Letter

I withdrew from my position and circled about the cenote. then went in again to get a view from a different angle. I had to get at that water somehow, without drawing attention to myself, but I saw that anyone going to the cenote would inevitably be spotted. Fortunately, this cenote was different from the others I'd seen in that it wasn't like a well, and the water was easily accessible. It was more like an ordinary pond than anything else.

I watched the men for a long time. They weren't doing anything in particular: just sitting and lying about and talking casually. I had the idea they were waiting for something. Gatt. sitting with his men under the awning in front of his elegant tent, seemed quite out of place among these chicleros, although if Harris was to be believed, he was worse than any of them.

There was nothing I could do there and then, so I drew away and continued to make the full circle around the cenote and so back to the trail. Harry was asleep and moaning a little, and when I woke him up he gave a muffled shout.

'Quiet, Harry!' I said. 'We're in trouble.'

'What is it?' He looked around wildly.

'I found the cenote. There's a crowd of chicleros there -- and Jack Gatt.'

'Who the hell is Jack Gatt?'

Fallon, of course, hadn't told him. After all, he was only a chopper jockey in Fallen's employ and there was no reason why he should know about Gatt. I said, 'Jack Gatt is big trouble.'

'I'm thirsty,' said Harry. 'Can't we go along there and get water?'

'Not if you don't want your throat cut,' I said grimly. 'Look, Harry: I think Gatt is ultimately responsible for the sabotage to the helicopter. Can you stick it out until nightfall?'

'I reckon so. As long as I don't have to keep putting one foot in front of the other.'

'You won't have to do that,' I said. 'You just lie here.' I was becoming more and more worried about Harry. There was something wrong with him but I didn't know what it was. I put my hand to his forehead and found it burning hot and very dry. Take it easy,' I said. 'The time will soon pass.'

The afternoon burned away slowly. Harry fell asleep again or, at least, into a good imitation of sleep. He was feverish and moaned deliriously, which wasn't at all a good sign for the future. I sat next to him and tried to hone the machetes with a pebble I picked up. It didn't make much difference and I'd have given a lot for a proper whetstone.

Just before nightfall I woke Harry. 'I'm going down to the cenote now. Give me the water-bottles.' He leaned away from the tree and unslung them. 'What else have you got that will hold water?' I asked.

'Nothing.'

'Yes, you have. Give me that bottle of disinfectant. I know it will only hold a couple of mouthfuls, but water is important right now.'

I slung the water-bottles over my shoulder and got ready to go. 'Stay awake if you can, Harry,' I said. 'I don't know how long I'll be away, but I'll make it as quick as I can.'

I wanted to get down to the cenote before nightfall. It was quicker moving when you could see where you were going, and I wanted to get into a good position while the light held. As I came out on to the trail I took a scrap of paper from my pocket and spiked it on a twig as an indication of where to find Harry.

The chicleros had lit a fire and were cooking their evening meal. I manoeuvred into a strategic place -- as close to the water as I could get yet as far from the camp as possible. The fire was newly built and the leaping flames illuminated the whole of the cenote and I settled down to a long wait.

The fire burned down to a red glow and me men clustered around it, some cooking meat held on sticks, and others making some sort of flapjacks. Presently the scent of coffee drifted tantalizingly over the cenote and my stomach tightened convulsively. I hadn't eaten for nearly two days and my guts were beginning to resent the fact.

I waited for three hours before the chicleros decided to turn in for the night although it was still quite early by city standards. Gatt, the city man, stayed up late, but he remained in his tent, no doubt under mosquito netting, and I could see the glow of a pressure lantern through the fabric. It was time to go.

I went on my belly like a snake, right to the water's edge. I had already taken the corks from the bottles and held them in my teeth, and when I put the first bottle in the water it gurgled loudly. Just then the first howler monkey let loose his bloodcurdling cry, and I praised God for all his creations, however weird. I withdrew the bottle and put it to my lips and felt the blessed water at the back of my parched throat. I drank the full quart and no more, although it took a lot of will-power to refrain. I filled both bottles and corked them, and then washed out the disinfectant bottle and filled that.