Unnatural Instinct: Amazon

16.

You should just kill him and be done with it. Why should he matter anything to you?

He kicked you pretty hard in the gut and you can feel the pain of it deep in your pubic bone. But you'll get over it. You wish you could get over him so easily.

After redressing yourself, you leave the healers' hut and look about the camp. Several people glance your way. Everyone's talking about him. Apparently, he's fled into the jungle. You pause to scan the border of the camp. It's dark amid the trees—and quiet. It's a dangerous thing to do for a man. He'll fall down a ditch or be eaten by one of the man-eating cats that stalk the shadows.

Such a fool. Such an emotional, hysterical fool. But, then again, what more can you expect from a man?

You turn away towards one of the fires where the cooked remains of the stag await anyone who wants them. Your stomach cramping with hunger, you walk over. Again, you glance at the trees, but the thought that he might be in trouble does not dissuade you from sitting down and eating.

The meat tastes like nothing. And you quickly realise you no longer feel hungry. You turn back to the trees with a sigh. Moments later, you're hurrying through the jungle, spear in hand.

His tracks are much too easy to find. He seems to have no idea at all about how to survive. Any man or woman knows the basics; they should know how to move through the jungle without announcing their position too obviously. And yet here he's been, thrashing through the trees like nothing is out to get him. He might as well blow a horn—it would have the same effect.

Again, you can't help but wonder where he's come from. Surely a man as useless as this can't have come from any tribe you know. Or any enemy tribe for that matter. Again, you wonder about his foreign looks, his strange clothes and that peculiar contraption you found.

Something is very much amiss here. Once you find him, you're going to ask more questions and he's going to answer them whether he's willing to or not.

You slow your pace as the muscles in your abdomen tighten in fear. Tracks. Not Christopher's but some woman's. They've come from the northern part of the camp and have intersected with his.

Whoever is following him has large feet, even for a woman, and you get the sinking feeling you know exactly whose they are.

You break into a sprint, leaping over roots, ducking under branches, weaving smoothly between the trees. Your heart is racing. Your hand is slick around your spear. Your knuckles burn as you grip it too tightly.

Are you already too late?

You hear them before you see them. Your throat constricts. Your heart drops. You've already got your spear braced upon your shoulder as you crash into view.

Grippla sneers at you over her shoulder. You can't see Christopher, her massive figure shielding him from view, but his legs are sticking out from between hers as she straddles him. He's not moving.

Her breasts shine with sweat. Her hair is beaded with it. Her neck and chest are flushed red. Completely without shame, she turns away to arch her neck with a groan. Her body shudders. The big muscles in her shoulders clench, then smooth out.

You're too late.

The jungle around you turns red. You emit a blood-curdling scream. At least you think you do. It's hard to hear anything except for the blood rushing in your ears. The ground pounds beneath your footsteps as you charge.

Grippla stands and spins out of your way, the sharp tip of your spear missing her neck by a hair's breadth. Carried by your momentum, you leap over Christopher as he lies helplessly on the ground. You glimpse his mashed up face and it's like being kicked hard in the guts. It makes you sick. It ties you up in knots inside.

'Christopher!' you cry.

He doesn't move or answer except to peer up at you between rapidly swelling eyelids. You can't miss the lovely gleam of hazel. Your chest feels heavy. Your mind is whirling. How dare she. How dare she!

You turn towards Grippla with a snarl. The big woman sneers back. Your nostrils flare at the sight of Christopher's blood up her arms and the bright gleam of his seed trickling down her inner thighs. It patters against the ground like rain.

'You're going to die!' you shriek, brandishing your spear.

She just laughs and it's such a revolting laugh. It echoes in your ears. It seems to poison your very blood. You can feel it. You can feel it like a burn through your body.

Grippla spits on the ground, then wipes her mouth. 'Let's end this. I'll have you today, once and for all.' She nods at your spear. 'What are you? A coward or a woman?'

With a scowl, you toss away your spear. You hear Christopher moving.

'Keep behind me,' you say, looking over your shoulder. 'Stay away.' He's sitting up, his face covered in blood, his eyes and lips swollen. His once shining hair is matted and already you can see welts and bruising coming up all over his body. His lovely body. His penis is hard and flushed between his legs.

You turn back to your opponent, hands fisted at your sides, your legs spread. Gritting your teeth, you snarl, 'Only a coward beats a man.'

Grippla just laughs again, throwing back her head as though it's the most hilarious thing in the world. She's such an ugly, demented bitch. You can't really say you've ever really liked her but you did respect her as a hunter, a fighter and as a woman—up until now, that is. Now, all you know is hate. A rage like you've never felt before.

Her laughter snaps off as she stops and glares back at you, her lips pulled back into a feral grin. It tugs at the scar in her face, distorting her features more than they already are.

The jungle goes silent. The air between you thickens with tension as you look each other up and down. She's a huge woman, bulky and so tall the branches above brush against her hair. Her shoulders are so big she almost doesn't have a neck.

But she has weaknesses. You know them well enough, even if she doesn't.

You begin to circle. Christopher pulls himself into the trees until he's safely hidden away. Grippla doesn't notice him, her eyes fixed on you.

She charges first.