Tropical Adventures (Still working on this)

Tropical Adventures
By: Dennis Borgersen

It was a steel dark day with underlining clouds so thick; the moisture wrapped itself around one’s entire existence. This was a day like no other, especially for John Cooper. Until recently, he lived most of his life in sunny California, where the climate was routinely dry. As he stood there in the tents doorway buttoning up his collar, he wondered how much longer could he adapt to such an uncompromising environment, or in fact, if he even wanted to.

John related anything that was beautiful and desirable to a bright sunny day like he had known most of his life. And it was just natural that his happiness depended on it too. But as reality sunk deep within, he realized the essence of his situation; he would probably be there for a long time, trapped, not by choice either, but by a never diminishing desire for wealth.

As he stood there steering out into the dark and humid jungle foliage, half drunk from the never ending supply of alcohol, he wondered when the others would return. They had certainly been gone too long and if they do return, would they tell him if they found anything precious? Would he make the same choice if he were in their shoes? All these doubts only furthered the frustration he was feeling, but there was little he could do about it.

With the realm of possibilities racing through his mind he abruptly smashed the liquor bottle he was holding on the table next to him, watching it shatter into a thousand pieces. “No, I’ll be dammed if they think I’m just going to sit here and wait, and for what, to rot like some piece of fungus in this God forbidding place? No, I don’t think so.” With that he grabbed his rifle and raced out into the formidable darkness.

But, unknown to him in his moment of rage, he neglected to take any provisions as he went running off screaming. The Amazon jungle during rainy season takes no survivors, as he was soon to learn.

Thrashing out through the thick and wet tropical growth, for about five hundred feet, he had to stop to regain his breath. Turning slowly towards the direction he was certain he came from, he could no longer see the camp’s dimly lit fire for it was totally hidden from view. Or, as he further considered, was it actually that direction that got him there in the first place, perhaps it was another, he wasn’t sure anymore. This new dilemma had a sobering effect.

Uncertain about what to do next and somewhat disoriented, John leaned upon the nearest tree bracing him while he tried to gather his senses.  That is when he heard a twig snap a near distance off. He tried to focus his eyes in the direction of the sound but the effort was meaningless, the jungle surrounding him was impregnable. Momentarily after, there were more noises but this time it seemed it was coming from all directions, surrounding him and closing in.

Instinctively, John quickly flung his rifle over his shoulder then franticly grabbed the tree he was standing next to and edged himself upwards, hoping to gain a vantage. When he reached the first secure limb, he aimed his rifle towards the commotion but the noises had stopped. There remained a chilling and almost weird kind of silence.

His brow was sopping wet with moisture from the effort of scaling the tree. It dripped down into his eyes blurring his vision even more. He remained there, perched in the tree, like an animal waiting for it’s next move. Then it happened. This time he was ready and waiting.

While only hearing a faint sound it was enough for John to react. He opened fire and scattered bullets in every which direction. The tremendous explosion of sound woke up the surrounding jungle, shattering the calm like silence with a critical rude awakening. Flight took birds soaring in ever which direction in their desperate act of survival.

As time passed and the fluttering of wings ceased, John crouched further into his perch and waited. He thought it felt like he was in that tree for a hundred years because each and every muscle ached with sporadic cramps. Suddenly, off into the distance, he heard a faint whistling noise increasing in pitch as it was heading in his direction. As the noise intensified, he felt a thud on the back of his head and it was all he remembered.

When John finally awoke he found himself stretched out and tied to a fifty-five gallon drum like a pig on a spicket with a huge fire burning not far from where he was. As he was looking about, the thought suddenly occurred to him that these natives eat people and that was their plans for him too. He said to himself “what the hell am I doing here, am I going to be a dam sacrifice or are they going to have me for dinner, will they set me ablaze”? He abhorred the thought of dying by fire, it was the worst way to die he could ever imagine. And yet, there he was, with little or no recourse in the event about to unfold.

As fatigue started setting in, his mind was glaring and his body suffered from being so rigidly tied. Even thought the situation seemed hopeless there wasn’t a resemblance of an idea that he was giving up, not in his mind. He had no intentions whatsoever of being their next victim. On the upper edge of the steel drum that he was tied to he noticed there was a fragmented piece of metal protruding outwards. With a show of inhuman strength he managed to cut the fibrous material that was bonding his hands. Lying deathly still to avoid detection, he drew his pocketknife from his belt loop and slowly cut the remaining bonds that held his feet.

“Thought they had me, didn’t they, but somehow I knew I’d escape. Measly fools, thought they could actually do away with John Cooper, think on, not this California boy, and not on any day of the week either”. Triumphantly, a wicket smile stretched across the entire width of his face and he finally felt good.

A native ran into the circle of men sitting around the fire screaming “wautae, wautae” and the men quickly rose to gather their weapons and went in the direction that the scout took them. John could not understand what was happening but he knew instantly that this was his chance to sneak away. The women of the village were busy preparing for the coming event and barely noticed that John had slid off the barrel and was quickly making his way into the forest again. On his way to freedom, John noticed his rifle leaning against a small stump so he had the chance to grab it before he left.

With no idea of which way to run, his instinct told him he better be going in the opposite direction that the natives took no matter where it was going to lead him. He headed through the forest at a running pace for about an hour before he broke down in total exhaustion. He found a slight clearing and decided to rest.

While resting his mind flashed back to the time he started this episode," was it four months ago, six months or even seven months ago, he had no way of knowing" he realized to himself. He remembered when Aj, Andria and Larry came over to his house all excited about a map that Andria's uncle who lived in South America most of his life sent to her. He wanted Andria to have it scrutinized to determine it's age and authenticity. She did this and the map was authentic and was at least nine hundred years old and was told it was quite a find. She never did get back to her uncle, rather, she told her closest friends about it.
He remembered her saying "guys, this is a once in a life time opportunity, just look at this thing, it gives specific directions to the riches of the Mayan King Cortoso. I have looked up the legend in the Library and he did exist and there are no indications that his treasures were ever discovered". AJ grinned as he imagined what he would do with his share of the money and Larry shared his enthusiasm.

After much consideration,they decided to pool their money, buy the necessary equipment they needed and fly down to Costa Rica for a tropical adventure they would never forget. John laughfed to himself saying "and here I am.  

He noticed as he crouched down for cover that his entire body was soaking wet and he could not control the sporactic contractions that caused him to violently shake. His breath was almost gone, leaving him there gasping for air until he slowly started to take control again and breath normally. He was there for less then three minutes and in that time he could not hear any indication that he was being followed.

When he finally had his composure back, he decided he needed a compass of some sort because he had no idea in which direction he was going, or should be going, in order to find his camp. What he did know was that the sun rises in the west and sets in the east. He was guessing that his camp was due east from where he was sitting, if, his camp was still there at all. With an intense effort he rose to his feet and surveyed his surroundings only to find that there was a distinct mountain range off to the north that seemed in his mind, impassable. He quickly decided against that direction. “ No way in hell am I equipped to get up that ridge, and if I do get up, what am I going to find? I just better head east”.

John knew he would eventually need food and water because he could feel how the skin on his lips was stretched and cracking as the sun penetrated the thick foliage. He would also need a place to spend the night so with that in mind he set out to find a place where he could hunt and possibly have a small fire going, without detection. John also knew that when the village discovered he was gone they might send out a group of very unfriendly people to bring him back or just kill him on the spot.

He started to track through the forest with his rifle in hand, ready for any unlikely mishap, and never let his senses roam for too long because he had to be keenly aware of the unexpected. He had to stay defensive at all times no matter what the cost if he was to remain alive. John might have been a lot of different things to the people who knew him but they would all agree, he was not a quitter. Alcohol seemed to get the better of John at times but when survival came into play, he could be a contender. While he was roaming on, he heard a slight rustle to the left of him and he immediately crouched and listened.

This lasted for less then a minute when John determined it was not a human, so it must be an animal of some sort and that could be eaten. He decided that whatever it was he could not shoot it in fear of being heard but he could beat it over the head if he could get close enough. The noise stopped momentarily then started again. John crouched down to a very low crawl in the direction of the sound with his rifle stock in his hands. Suddenly, out of nowhere, he felt his foot being violently dragged backwards with an unrivalled force until he was being dragged on to his belly. Franticly, he was trying to turn his head to see what kind of animal was capable of doing this when he felt it’s fangs sink in to his lower calf. The pain was excruciating.

With a quick snap, he flipped himself over and bashed his rifle stock into the side of its head forcing it to release his leg in one quick motion. He found himself on his knees looking straight into it’s eyes as the blow seemed to be wearing off. Oh my God he thought, this creature has a head as large as mine and must be at least thirty feet long. John had never imagined a snake could grow so huge. He was up and on his feet when the animal was preparing for another attack and he quickly darted in a direction away from the animal with his blood soaked pants that were torn to shreds. He had no time to feel the pain.

He found himself limping but it did not slow him down any because the creature was in hot pursuit. How can a snake move so fast he thought and how the hell can I get away? John figured he could quickly turn and unload his magazine into the animal if he could gain a distance. He would certainly give away his location so there had to be another way. He was reaching into his belt loop for his knife when he noticed that the creature stopped and had slid into the jungle without a trace.

He exhaled deeply but kept on moving and wondering if he had worn the creature out. Thinking he out witted the creature, he found a sense of achievement and relief. “ Boy that was close” he thought to himself. Then as quickly as before, the creature dropped from a tree on top of John and forced him to the ground by it’s sheer weight. It suddenly started wrapping itself around John’s body resisting any struggle John could offer until it had him entangled in it’s coil getting ready to squeeze the life out of him. It’s body was as round as John’s and he could feel it’s muscles starting to contract, squeezing the air out of his lungs.

In a last ditch effort John was able to squeeze his rifle’s trigger. He was not sure if he would shoot himself but he had no other choice. The bullet raced by his face but it did penetrate the upper potion of the snake’s throat. The sound of the rifle startled the creature and it started to loosen it’s grip allowing John to open his pocket knife and fiercely start cutting and stabbing whatever he could. The snake released it’s hold upon John and slithered off into the dense growth.

What next John thought, did he do enough damage to the creature? “ I sure as hell don’t want to mess with the likes of that again” he found himself mumbling. He sat up with his rifle close by and examined his leg for the first time. There were a couple of deep lacerations across the back of his leg but he figured he would survive. He wrapped several thick leaves he had found around the wound and tied them with what was left of his pants. He laughed to himself thinking he had better investigate first before he sneaks up on an unidentified noise. His hunger and thirst was reminding him he better do something before the night sets in. John stood up and started limping, he could not move fast now, but he could move. And he knew he needed to find a place where he would be safe.

Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a cutting on one of the trees near by and decided to take a better look. The initials “AJ” with the arrow under it was clear as day. He said “AJ, that has to be Andy Joe”, one of his friends that he originally set up camp with before they left to find the untold riches as explained in the tribal legend. “If the lost City did exist, old Andy boy would be the one to find it” John said to himself out loud. He took his finger and outlined the arrow under the initials and determined that this would be the direction he would follow.

Now John felt he had some sort of purpose. It eased his fear of feeling like a lost soul out there in an unfamiliar jungle that shows no mercy. “I know AJ and the others found something but why didn’t they return to the camp” the question kept nagging at him until he finally figured that maybe the natives found them too. Either way, John knew he had to move forward if it was the last thing he would ever do.

With the evening quickly closing in, it surrounded the forest with a fine mist that glittered in the evening light. John looked ahead and spotted another tree with the initials AJ and the familiar arrow pointing to a gigantic tree not far off into the distance. When John approached it he saw it was split in the middle creating a natural refuse that he quickly entered. Over to the left he found a duffle bag containing a bottle of whisky, several cans of food, matches and a flashlight. John screamed with delight, although, it brought up some scary thoughts why someone would leave it there in the first place. Dismissing that thought, John greedily attacked the contents.

With two cans of beans and three quarters of a bottle of whisky gone, it was enough for him to pass out feeling very contented and satisfied. He lay there listening until he fell into a deep sleep. He woke up to the sound of the forest awakening, birds chirping and a slight morning breeze rustling through the thick foliage. Before he was done stretching, he looked out between the crude opening and saw daylight penetrating to the forests floor.

When John was ready to leave his heavenly sent refuge to continue his journey into the unknown, he saw motion in a thickly gathered fern patch about fifty feet up a head.

   ...to be continued

Tell me what you liked about the story. Your suggestions for improvement? Would you like to read more? Thanks for reading!

by Dennis (Viewed 252 times)