“Your guess is as good as mine. We’re in one of the villages.”
“Pedro?”
“He’s here. His leg keeps him hobbled, but he’s not in too much pain now.”
“Hap?”
Ken shook his head. “After you passed out, Jack, they brought us to this village upriver from the falls. I’d judge it’s four hours journey from the suspension bridge.”
“What time is it now?” Jack asked, trying to orient himself.
“They took my wristwatch—not that it would be much good after that river ducking. I figure it lacks a couple of hours until dawn.”
“We’re prisoners in this hut?”
“Nothing else but! A guard is posted at the door.”
Jack lay for awhile, staring into the darkness. His head throbbed and he seemed incapable of rational thought. He tried not to think of Happy, War and Willie. Had they reached the broken suspension bridge? And if so, what had happened to them?