There were no roads up here. Just a sea of sweating blue-green fronds and gnarled roots, drooping vines and crooked branches that wove like latticework beneath the jungle canopy, blocking out the rays of the midday sun. Clouds of insects chittered and buzzed, feeding on mounds of moist biomass, rodent carcasses and mulch, sucking nectar from a world of rainbow-colored blossoms that speckled the emergents like jewels. Ghostly patches of white fog drifted lazily along the ground, probing into burrows and swirling around tree trunks. Epiphytes clung to glistening rock and mossy bark, stretching skyward with jade fingers. The chirps of birds and croaks of tree frogs sang a backing refrain among the more distracting screams and whoops of Bonobos playing in the distance. And somewhere in the darkness of this wet, hot, expansive jungle, a large predatory cat roared in hunger. Janet Beaudette ignored the cat’s warning; it was too far away to be an issue. At least she chose to believe that.
