Kuto was in a foul mood. He had been stuck in Equatorial Guinea for months, and he was desperately homesick. He missed his family and friends, and he hated the boring, monotonous work he had to do every day.
To make matters worse, the weather was terrible. It was hot and humid, and Kuto’s black bucket hat did little to keep the sweat out of his eyes. His hair was damp and matted against his head, and his face felt sticky with grime.
He trudged through the jungle, following the trail that led back to camp. He had been out hunting all day, but he hadn’t caught anything more than a few measly lizards. His stomach growled with hunger, but he wasn’t going to waste any more time looking for food. He just wanted to get back to camp so he could lie down in his bunk and try to forget about this miserable place for a while.
As Kuto neared camp, he heard shouting coming from up ahead. He quickened his pace, fear prickling at the back of his neck. When he rounded a bend in the trail, he saw that two of his fellow workers were arguing with each other heatedly