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Did I imagine it all?
Maybe my mind is playing tricks on me.
I blow out a sigh and force myself to continue. I can’t be paranoid, not here, not now.
Out of nowhere, something touches my shoulder.
I drop the wood and torch.
Something covers my mouth.
I scream, but my voice goes silent as I’m pulled into the bushes.
Accompanying Song: “Xenoanthropology” by Johann Johannsson
Lock
“Don’t move,” I whisper into her ear. “Don’t make a sound.”
She’s sweating from top to bottom, and her body is shaking.
The moment she sees me, the look in her eyes changes from panic to rage.
“I’m going to lower my hand if you agree,” I whisper. “Do you understand?”
She nods slowly.
Good.
When I pull my hand away, she immediately glances at me over her shoulder and whispers, “What are you doing here?”
I narrow my eyes and scan the environment. I hold up a finger to my mouth and signal for her to stay here. With my spear firmly clenched in both hands, I take a step toward the open area where she dropped her wood.
As silently as I can, I creep toward the center where her torch is burning the ground.
My foot steps on a branch, and it cracks under my weight.
I stop … gaze up … and meet two eyes. Slits. Blinking in the shadows.
A set of pearly white, sharp teeth.
And a low, humming growl.
As my eyes widen, so does his.
I hold my spear steady and wait for him to charge.
One wrong move and I’m done for.
Suddenly, it leaps out into the open. It’s headed straight for me.
“A tiger!” Jules screams.
One minute, I’m waiting for it to strike, and the next, it’s already pounced on me.
I’m fighting it off with every inch of strength I have, pushing the spear between its teeth.
“Lock!” Jules approaches. “Fight!”
“Stay back!” I growl, trying to push the animal away.
It claws at me, scratching my skin.
The wound is deep and painful.
I howl and shove it off, pointing the spear straight at its face.
It avoids my poke, comes in from the side, and swipes at my legs.
I go down.
“No!” Jules screams.
“Run!” I hiss, trying not to feel the pain even though blood is pouring out of me.
Right then, his fangs push into my shoulders.
I scream out in pain, but I clench my spear and shove it into his side.
The animal grunts and howls in pain, just like me.
Jules rushes into the open area and picks up the torch from the ground. Screaming, she swipes it through the air like a blade, pointing it at the tiger until it burns him enough to make him get off me.
When she pokes him with the fire, it bolts and runs, the spear still stuck in its side.
I stay still, blood spilling everywhere.
It hurts so much I can barely breathe.
Fuck.
I don’t think I can get up.
And worse … the more seconds pass, the heavier my body feels … and I can no longer keep my eyes open.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Accompanying Song: “Sapir Whorf” by Johann Johannson
Juliet
Shit. Shit. Shit!
“Lock!” I scream, sliding down beside him.
I plant the torch firmly into the ground. Adrenaline shoots through my veins as I grab his body and pull it closer. There’s blood everywhere … on his body … his face … the ground.
And most of it is his.
“Lock! Stay with me!” I yell, but he’s barely keeping his eyes open.
Tears well up in my eyes as the guilt pours in.
Why? Why was I so stupid? Why didn’t I listen to him when he said it was dangerous?
I didn’t believe him before, but I do now.
“I’m sorry, Lock,” I mutter, holding him, hugging him. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault you got hurt.”
I cradle him, hoping he’ll regain consciousness, but the longer I wait, the more he seems to drift away.
I don’t know what to do, but I have to do something.
So I get up and pull on his shoulders, with little effect, and then I remember how they did it in an online video. I circle around him, step on his toes, and pull him up by his hands. It’s tough, but I manage to pull him toward me. Bending my knees, I pull him over my shoulder, wrap my arm around his knee, and lock his hand in the same place. The fireman’s carry.
As I look up and into the jungle, I determine my bearings. The hut is not too far up ahead. I can do this.
His body is heavy, and I can barely walk with his added weight, but I refuse to stop.
I can’t let him die.
Not here, not in this jungle … not because of me.
God, why did I have to do this? And why did he have to come and help me?
Because he loves me, of course.
He’s said it so many times before, and I’ve refused to let it sink in.
Refused to accept the inevitable.
And now we’re here, struggling to survive.
