CHAPTER ELEVEN
The Man in the Darkness
The explosion above them was followed by silence.
For one terrible second, nobody moved.
Gila could hear only her own breathing.
Then Thelma whispered her name.
"Gila."
"I'm here."
The man beside them reached for her hand.
"Stay behind me."
A match struck somewhere above.
A tiny flame appeared.
The stranger stood at the bottom of the stairs, his face briefly illuminated.
He was younger than Gila had expected.
Perhaps in his early forties.
Calm.
Almost unnaturally calm.
He held no weapon in his hands.
That somehow made him more frightening.
"You don't have to be afraid," he said.
Gila almost laughed.
"You followed us."
"I was told to watch you."
"By Rymus?"
The man's expression changed slightly.
"Yes."
The name hung in the darkness.
Gila stepped forward.
"What does he want?"
"You."
"Why?"
"He believes you have something that belongs to him."
"I don't have anything of his."
The man smiled.
"That's what you believe."
Gila felt anger replacing her fear.
"You've been following me."
"For some time."
"Why?"
"Because Rymus needed to know whether you remembered."
"Remembered what?"
The man didn't answer.
Instead, he looked at Thelma.
"And she remembers too."
Thelma stepped closer.
"Who are you?"
The man looked at her.
"My name doesn't matter."
"It matters to me."
He smiled faintly.
"Then call me Elias."
Gila studied him.
"Elias."
"Yes."
"Is that your real name?"
"No."
The answer came without hesitation.
The man beside Gila moved forward.
"Then why should we trust you?"
"You shouldn't."
The honesty surprised them.
Elias looked around the chamber.
"You came here looking for answers."
"Yes."
"Then take them."
He pointed toward the shelves.
"Everything you need is here."
Gila stared at him.
"Why would you help us?"
"I didn't say I was helping you."
"Then what are you doing?"
"Following instructions."
"From Rymus?"
Elias nodded.
"He wants you to see this."
Gila looked at the files.
"What?"
"The truth."
A cold feeling moved through her.
"What truth?"
Elias walked to one of the shelves.
He pulled out a thick file and placed it on the table.
The cover contained no name.
Only the symbol.
He opened it.
Inside were photographs.
Old photographs.
Gila saw the river.
The same dock.
The same group of people.
And then she saw him.
The man they had believed was dead.
Her hands began to tremble.
"No."
Thelma stepped beside her.
"Oh God."
The photograph showed him standing beside Rymus.
Alive.
Not hiding.
Not captured.
Standing beside him as though they were partners.
Gila stared at the image.
"How old is this?"
Elias answered.
"Four days before his supposed death."
Thelma shook her head.
"That can't be."
"It is."
"Then the death was staged."
"Yes."
Gila looked at Elias.
"Why?"
"Because someone was coming for them."
"Who?"
"The authorities."
Gila looked back at the photograph.
"So they disappeared."
"Not exactly."
Elias turned another page.
There were photographs of boats.
Documents.
A map.
Then a list of names.
Gila recognized several.
Some belonged to people she had known.
Others belonged to people she had thought were victims.
But beside each name was a notation.
ALIVE.
MISSING.
TRANSFERRED.
DECEASED.
She stared at one particular name.
Someone she had mourned.
Someone she had believed was gone forever.
The word beside the name was:
ALIVE.
Gila's breath caught.
"These people..."
"They were never all victims," Elias said.
"Then what were they?"
"Participants."
Thelma looked furious.
"You expect us to believe everyone involved was part of this?"
"No."
Elias closed the file.
"Some were forced."
"Some?"
"Others chose it."
Gila's voice became cold.
"And the man in this photograph?"
Elias looked at her.
"He chose."
The words hit harder than anything else.
Gila stepped away from the table.
For years, she had protected a memory.
A person.
A story.
She had believed that person had been taken from them.
Now she was being told he had willingly entered the darkness.
"No," she whispered.
Elias watched her.
"You're still protecting him."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"You do."
Gila shook her head.
"You don't know me."
"I know more than you think."
"Then tell me."
Elias stared at her for a long moment.
Then he said:
"Rymus didn't bring you into this."
Gila waited.
"You were already part of it."
The room went silent.
Thelma looked at Gila.
Gila looked back at her.
Neither understood.
Elias continued.
"You were there."
"When?"
"Before the river."
"What does that mean?"
"You remember the photograph."
"The old one?"
"Yes."
Elias pointed toward it.
"Look at the woman standing beside the boat."
Gila picked it up.
She examined the faces.
The river.
The dock.
The men.
Then she noticed the woman.
She was partially turned away from the camera.
Gila's stomach tightened.
The woman was wearing a necklace.
A small pendant.
Gila knew that pendant.
She had seen it many times.
Because it had belonged to her mother.
Gila stared.
"That's impossible."
Elias said nothing.
She looked closer.
The necklace was unmistakable.
A small silver pendant shaped like a leaf.
She had inherited it years ago.
Or so she had believed.
"Where did this come from?"
Elias looked at her.
"Ask your mother."
Gila's face hardened.
"My mother is dead."
"Are you certain?"
Gila froze.
The words echoed through the chamber.
Thelma grabbed her arm.
"What did you say?"
Elias stepped backward.
"You came looking for Rymus."
He looked toward the staircase.
"But the answers you're going to find may have nothing to do with him."
Gila stared at him.
"What do you mean?"
Elias smiled sadly.
"You're asking the wrong question."
Then he turned.
"Wait!"
Gila rushed after him.
But before she reached the stairs, the door above slammed shut.
She ran upward.
The room was empty.
Elias was gone.
Only a small envelope remained on the floor.
Gila picked it up.
Her name was written across the front.
She opened it.
Inside was a single photograph.
A woman standing beside the Amazon River.
The woman was older.
But Gila knew the face.
Her mother.
On the back were six words.
SHE NEVER DIED IN THE RIVER.
Gila stopped breathing.
Thelma came up behind her.
"What is it?"
Gila turned the photograph toward her.
Thelma's eyes widened.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Gila whispered:
"My mother is alive."