Demons in the Jungle

Chapter 7

II: The Real You

"Patience ensures victory."

- Ali ibn Abi Talib

Chapter 7

"That's all I'm sayin', Tommy. All I'm sayin' is, if an accountant from New Jersey could last fourteen hours before being eaten alive by cougars, then you should at least..."

The voice faded out of existence. My eyes tried to open, but it wouldn't happen. My entire head was paralyzed with a blinding, radiating pain, beginning at my upper back and ending nowhere.

"...can't imagine you don't know how to use a radio, mate. I mean, you've got a fuckin' cell phone, right? Sure you do. Everybody and their mum does, these days. It's not rocket science."

I opened my eyes. I was greeted by a scene of big, green leaves, spots of shining, bright white light piercing through them here and there. I blinked and sat up, doing my best to ignore the searing pain in every extremity. A calm yet noisy jungle greeted me, something still and green and teeming with life that I just couldn't see.

"Tommy? Tommy? Tooooommy?"

My eyes were drawn to the source of the voice now; the radio, sitting on the ground a few feet away from me. It had been attached to my belt, but must have fallen off. It had some dents here and there, but looked to be more or less intact. In fact, it looked like it had survived the fall even better than I had. I reached out slowly, groaning at the thunderous pain that went off in my skull as I leaned over to get it. I pressed the "talk" button.

"Hello?" I asked, my voice sounding raspy and pained.

There was a long pause before the voice came again, Amy's voice, sounding amused. "Awesome." He said casually. "How's it going, Tommy boy? Enjoying the hunt? I was worried you were dead. Been trying to reach you for a while now."

I stood up with a groan, looking around. I could see where I'd fallen from, leaving a trail of broken foliage down a tall rock face and coming to rest here, in a deeply forested valley of some sort. I couldn't tell what time it was, the sun invisible above the thick tree cover. My pack was gone; I couldn't even see it up the cliff. The rifle, presumably, was still up where the jag had been, and the pistol was nowhere in sight. I still had the kukri, in my belt, and the radio. That was it. Fuck.

"I fell." I said into the radio, checking my arm carefully. The gauze had held up, but the fall had tore open the bites from the jaguar further. I was covered in dried blood. It still didn't look good, but there wasn't much more I could do for it. "I lost all my stuff." I added, frowning as I searched myself and tried to find something, anything else that had survived.

"That's a damn shame, Tommy boy." Amy said, his tone conversational, unconcerned. "I guess you'd better get after him quick then, huh? He's already got an advantage on you, I figure near two hours."

I raised an eyebrow as I took some shaky steps toward the jungle, now searching the ground for any equipment. "Get after him?" I asked with disbelief. "I lost everything, Amy! All I've got is a knife and this radio!" I sighed before I uttered the next words, a sense of defeat sinking into my heart. "You've gotta come pick me up, man. Get me out of here."

Amy's response was immediate and dismissive. "No can do, Tommy boy." He said. "We made a deal. One hundred and twenty large, and then you kill the target. That's how it goes."

"Didn't you hear me?" I asked, trying to keep the growing anger out of my voice. "I lost all my equipment! I can't do this!" I could hear my own desperation. I hated it, but I couldn't stop myself. "I can't."