MICHAEL CRICHTON

Elliot said to Munro, “What do you mean, if we can?”“I mean,” Munro said, “that they may not let us leave.”2. DepartureFOLLOWING MUNRO’S INSTRUCTIONS, THEY carried only minimalsupplies of food and ammunition. They left everything else—the tents, theperimeter defenses, the communications equipment, everything, in the sunlitclearing at midday.Munro glanced back over his shoulder and hoped he was doing the right thing.In the 1960s, the Congo mercenaries had had an ironic rule: “Don’t leave home.”It had multiple meanings, including the obvious one that none of them shouldever have come to the Congo in the first place. It also meant that onceestablished in a fortified camp or colonial town you were unwise to step out intothe surrounding jungle, whatever the provocation. Several of Munro’s friends hadbought it in the jungle because they had foolishly left home. The news wouldcome to them: “Digger bought it last week outside Stanleyville.” “Outside? Why’dhe leave home?”Munro was leading the expedition outside now, and home was the little silvercamp with its perimeter defense behind them. Back in that camp, they weresitting ducks for the attacking gorillas. The mercenaries had had something tosay about that, too: “Better a sitting duck than a dead duck.”As they marched through the rain forest, Munro was painfully aware of thesingle-file column strung out behind him, the least defensible formation. Hewatched the jungle foliage move in as their path narrowed. He did not rememberthis track being so narrow when they had come to the city. Now they werehemmed in by close ferns and spreading palms.213