'KORITOIA-OPE.'
Purna slowly repeated the name, and the witch doctor nodded delightedly. Despite his fearsome appearance, he had been an amiable enough companion. They had been walking for several hours now, heading ever upwards.
For the first three hours, they had been hacking their way through thick jungle, but now they had risen beyond the treeline and were ascending the dusty, upward-sloping trail of a jagged-peaked mountain.
Sam couldn't decide whether he preferred struggling through dense vegetation, where at least the ground was level and they were sheltered from the sun, or toiling uphill, where they were unencumbered by trailing vines and ankle-entangling plants, but where they had to contend with the mercilessly beating sun.
At least they had set off at dawn, which meant that the sun had not been at its height. Even so, long before they reached their destination, sweat was rolling down Sam's face, and his freshly laundered T-shirt was plastered to his body.
The hiking boots that West had lent him (he hadn't even bothered trying to locate his lost Reebok in the charnel pit of zombie remains at the bottom of the tree) were pinching a little, but he could cope with that. And at least, for once, he didn't stink of zombie blood – which was always a bonus.
After making the acquaintance of the surviving Kuruni villagers yesterday, Purna, Sam, and Logan had persuaded them – through a combination of gestures and basic vocabulary – to accompany them back through the jungle to where Mowen was waiting with the jeep.
After getting over his initial surprise, Mowen had spoken to the witch doctor and, although their two tribal languages had not been entirely compatible, had at least been able to make him understand why the four of them had come to the village and what it was they needed.
Perhaps in exchange for saving their lives, or simply because he had witnessed first-hand how frighteningly out of control the virus had become, the witch doctor – Koritoia-Ope – had eventually agreed to lead his people to the research centre and allow West to take blood samples from them in an effort to develop a vaccine.
Furthermore, he had agreed to take a party up to the sacred Kuruni burial site early the following morning, so they could get a sample of the stable form of the virus.
Sam had never before appreciated the sheer bliss to be found in what he had always thought of as the simple things in life – taking a shower, putting on clean clothes, eating a good meal, sleeping in a comfortable bed.
It might have been only twenty-four hours since the outbreak of the virus had reached pandemic proportions, but by the time they arrived back at the research centre and he was finally able to enjoy a bit of downtime, he felt like he'd been fighting and running for days.
It was agreed that he and Purna would accompany Koritoia-Ope to the burial site at dawn the next day, while Logan and Mowen would monitor proceedings at the research centre and keep Ryder White up to date with developments.
At first, Logan had offered to go with Purna to give Sam more time to get over his latest zombie bite, but Sam had insisted that he'd rather be doing something than hanging around – and besides, although he didn't say so, he was pretty sure that Logan's knee would not be able to stand up to what Mowen had told them would be almost a full day's hike there and back over pretty tough terrain.
It was obvious that the same thought was in the back of Logan's mind too. Shrugging, he had said, 'Well, if you really want to go, man, far be it from me to spoil your fun. I'm more than happy to hang around here all day. Hanging around is what I'm good at. And if I get bored I can always pass the doc a test tube or something.'
By the time they finally arrived at the burial site, Sam was beginning to regret telling Logan that he'd rather be doing something than nothing. It was still only 10 a.m., but the reflection of the sun on the pale ground was enough to make him wish he'd thought to ask Mowen if he could borrow his shades, and every outcrop of rock he touched with his hands or brushed against with his leg was red hot. He was relieved when Koritoia-Ope stopped and pointed at a carved stone arch jutting from the mouth of the cave, which was stoppered by a boulder just as tall and at least three times as wide as Sam himself.