Falling for the jungle boy

Chapter 6

I scrambled into a clearing and gazed out in the rough direction of the camp. Another scream sliced through the silence, even the bugs and birds were silent to commemorate the disturbance. This scream was alive with fear and anguish. Not pain, but loss and suffering.

It sounded clear and sharp, a women's voice...

I let my legs carry me toward the girl, I ran blindly. Unsure of what to think, unsure of my sense of orientation. The forest looked so similar, damnnit!

Each tree was the mirrored image of the next, each fern an accurately copied version. It was me against the maze of a jungle. Roots created loopholes that stuck out marginly from the ground, like magnets my feet were automatically drawn to. I leapt over my feet and tripped over the various obstacles. Mud caked my face as smears of years dribbled down my face. The frustration finally getting to me.

***

As soon as I finally reached the comforting embrace of our camp... the demeanour had changed. It was cold, oh so cold. The wind had picked up and had begun lashing at my bared skin. The whips sinking deep into any wounds causing my insides to be trapped in a gust of frozen particles.

Tentatively taking a step forward, I watched Naomi's body language. I could only see their backs but Brian was hunched over in defeat as well. The closer I got, the harder the sobbing escalated. I placed a hand on her shoulder and looked down trying to think up word of comfort. But the sight that reached my eyes chilled.me to the bone.

John lay on the floor pale as pale can be. Ghostly white. His face completely burried in the undergrowth and leaves. Vines and tendrils of had been placed over him, giving off the impression he'd been dead for a jolly long time. His mane looked matted and dry, having completely lost its bounce. Streaks of red were visible against his dirty blonde hair. Though they looked more like brown clots.

A jagged stone nearby had reminats of the same red-turned brown liquid emblazoned on it. Deep in his back a beautifully carved knife had been plunged. Narrowly missing the spine, but most definitely puncturing a lung . Death was instantatious.

The blood had been leaking out before, but now it had dried up to create a crusty wall of scabbing matter.  The tiniest trickle of blood was still bright red and obvious. It had yet to dry and turn stale like the mass before it.

My insides churned as i realised the extent of this murder. The fear in John's eyes was perfectly captured as his eyeballs were glassy and dull, his irises wide with shock. The first signs of pain frozen onto his dead face.

I couldn't speak too intrigued to utter a sound. I took ahold of Brian's arm and dragged him toward the edge of the clearing where we were less likely to be overheard.

"Who... What? Why... Where! When?" The boy in front of me looked taken aback and gaped once or twice before thinking. He chewed his bottom lip as the thoughts rushed over him.

Having to resist the judge to slap him out his little cocoon of thought I started to let my brain wander . And of all things to wander to, it obviously pinpointed the hot harraser from before... Jheeze, what could one to to get away from the reality of life?

I guess I kinda felt bad. Other than the knife to my throat and the death threats he seemed like a nice chap... or was it his body that was messing with my hormonal mind?

Urgh. Being a girl was just too difficult.

A wretched cry split through the jungle as round two of the sobs began.

The stench of death filling my nostrils. It was scary as he'll, almost surreal.

I got down onto all fours and inspected the corpse again. The intricately carved handle of the knife before me, looked somewhat familiar. For some reason, i remembered this particular knife design. The pattern permanently engraved into my head. The Amazonian jungle vines curtaining a dark stone entance. A boulder strategically placed before the entrance.

The sweet ceder scentwas everywhere, the contrast between the metallic blood and the intrusive wood mellowed into a giant pot of havoc in my head.

As far as i knew, ceder wood was fairly uncommon in the Amazon, yet the knife was proud of its unatural existence. Why was the knife imbeded into my long term memory...

Naomi dropped to the ground, a huge emotional mass. The tears pouring down her cheeks. Her nose bright red-her eyes too. Her years proudly displayed in a mass of stress wrinkles upon her brow. Her weakened heart shattering into shrapnel maiming the rest of us with her pity-inducing stares.

Shit . Shit . Shit shit shit shit shit...

And then there were 3 survivors...

___________

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