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CHAPTER 27 There was no hope for Wesley because he now stared eye to eye with a huge reptile. Several moments had passed since his entanglement. It had even gone long enough for him to be about passed out from the struggle. However, the sight of a massive anaconda slithering its way toward him perked his efforts to get free. “Damn it! You stay away from me.” The snake paid no attention to his pleading. The rain, thunder, and lighting amazingly were just secondary sound effects to Wesley. That eerie slither the snake made with his tongue seemed more noticeable, as were its advances through the mud. The muscle this reptile was made of was bulky and seemed to be able to crush a wild beast. It had been slithering along, waiting to suffocate anything for nourishment. Now, it was time. The large strangling machine invaded his space and a defense was now needed. There wasn’t much he could do. The roots had his feet entangled. His hands were the only option, but using them to try and crawl away was useless. The roots’ hold was too strong, so his hands would have to be put to other use. He reached out and grabbed the snake by what appeared to be its throat. “You muthafucker, I’ll squeeze your ass. You’re not going to squeeze me.” He groaned for strength to hopefully back his squeezing. That didn’t seem to work initially because the snake was still able to curl his body the way it wanted. The snake was also too massive, and began wrapping itself around Wesley. He reached for the knife only out of panic, because he knew it was out of his reach. Once the snake curled completely around Wesley, it slowed down. Then its movements came to a complete stop after it was sure it had its muscle wrapped completely around its prey. Hunger and natural instincts kicked in, and the reptile began squeezing with all its power. Soon his breath was depleted, but death wasn’t quite complete because Wesley remained slightly conscious. Roy Beavers was trotting along and had just decided to take Wesley’s path. Roy’s blood alcohol content caused slow and clumsy travel. A sober scout may have had time to save Wesley from the snake currently engulfing him head first. The snake’s jaws were opened wide for this occasion, for it didn’t normally get meals this large. All that could be seen of Wesley was from the waist down. This may have been the point at which the snake decided that it needed to concentrate on breaking some of Wesley’s bulk down. In the background, you could hear Roy’s cries. “Anybody, who, tell me who? Please, I beg you. Tell me! Who? OOOh, why? I wanna go home!” Roy Beavers stopped in his tracks and knelt down with his gun still clutched. There had to be tears from the way he cried, but they were hidden by the rain. His emotions surged, and then he rose and began chanting, “I’ll get you, whoever did this.” He sucked the last guzzle of alcohol and tossed the bottle. He was already extremely overboard in his drinking and could have done without that last shot. Nevertheless, he stumbled along and was drunk as can be. He thought perhaps the liquor had been hallucinogenic, as he started seeing things. He even thought of a pair of boots familiar to him, and then he realized those were his partner’s boots. He even remembered when Wesley brought them, and he now realized he was actually looking at his partner’s shoes behind that tree. He could only see the shoes, and it brought out a curious yell. “Wesley! Wesley… is that you? What are you doing on the fucking ground?” Roy Beaver’s instability made for a slow arrival, but when he laid eyes upon the scene, fright bewildered him. Those were the exact same feelings Detective Edward Pullins was going through while in pursuit of his fugitive, when all of a sudden, two well built tribesmen grabbed Richard with force and began dragging him. Edward stopped in his tracks. He wondered why everyone seemed to have some desire to catch or do harm to his suspect. Everyone had an interest in Richard, and that fueled Edward. He gathered himself to climb a slight slope, tucking himself under a ledge to get firsthand view.. He watched the men easily deal with Richard’s mute struggling. They both carried spears in their outside hands while dragging him with their inside ones. If not shocking enough, Edward noticed two individuals tied to a tree, and wondered, “What the hell is going on?” His better judgment told him to sit and observe, and he always listened to his instincts. Speaking of instincts, Klinton’s told him to reach out and grab an upcoming branch. Hopefully he could stop the uncontrollable travel the newly formed stream caused. He was only concerned with resting on another one of those water embedded trees that made like a maze of waterways. “Hold on, baby? We’ll be alright,” cried Klinton. A huge grunt belched next as he grabbed hold of a branch. Their movements were stopped just enough to hold them in that general spot. Exhaustion almost got the best of him, and that support branch couldn’t have come at a better time. After propping them both safely in the branches, he realized Pam was out for the count. “Pam, wake up. Pam,” cried Klinton. He shook her a few times next, but Pam didn’t respond. Klinton looked around, trying his best to see, but everything was just about out of his seeing range. However, he did notice an old wooden paddle boat that lie stuck between some other trees at a distance. His eyes lit up because he remembered the boat that he and Jerry stashed a few days ago. Roy’s eyes widened when he saw the snake. “Oh! My God! What the …fu…Oh shit..no! No! No, no no…no no… NO!” Roy yelled in terror and couldn’t take the sight any longer without vomiting all over the consumption process. That didn’t stop the snake from slowly but surely swallowing Edward alive and whole. However, before its meal could be completely consumed, Roy interrupted. After finishing barfing, Roy watched the feast in disgust. Then a blurred scream spilled. “You motherfucker, I’ll kill you!” Roy pounced on the snake and its victim. “I’ll kill you! Stop it! Let him go.” Roy pulled Wesley by his familiar boots and yelled, “Give him back! Give Wesley back, you fuck! Let him go. Wesley no!” Roy pulled very hard, but the snake’s muscles tightened up on its prey. His hands had slipped and slid all the way down, which was the reason he grabbed Wesley by his boots. All his might went towards freeing his partner. He grunted and strained like an Olympic weightlifter as he pulled. However, he had no way near the strength to equal the snake. All of a sudden Roy fell rapidly backwards sliding in the muddy surface. His eyes opened widely again, and there was that excitement again. It shocked him to see his body act as a projectile. After coming to a complete stop, he threw Wesley’s boots down in anger and lifted himself off his butt. “Goddamn it! I’ll show you.” He sprinted a short distance just to get nearly point blank range with the snake. Roy began to fire his gun. A total of nine loud bangs sounded, one after one another, and then several clicks. Roy finally noticed he had emptied his clip in the snake. Huge hole were punctured into the reptiles scaly skin. “Ahhhg,” screamed Roy. He threw his gun to the ground and began pulling Wesley’s legs again. The snake was injured and began to release the half dissolved body. Roy was hurled backward once again, but this time he had Wesley as well. The splash of water from their sudden crash sounded crisply, and then Roy shouted, “Wesley, I gottcha, hold on.” He did not realize that the snake’s breakdown acids and crushing muscles had done Wesley in, but he did realize that his gun had also punctured holes through his partner. “Ahhg, oh my god, I shot you Wesley. What the fuck have I done? You could have survived.” Roy barfed once again and couldn’t stand to look at the grisly sight anymore. He made a dash for it. His voice echoed about the forest as he screamed and ran away from the terror. Klinton couldn’t hear Roy’s troubles, but had the same thought. He wanted to make a dash for it. The sight of the boat gave him a moment of hope, but feelings of despair took over as debate set in. He wondered how he could get his hands on that boat. The idea of swimming in those waters didn’t appeal to him. The effort that it took was the deterrent factor. If he could leave Pam propped up on this tree, then swimming by himself wouldn’t be as bad. He started to secure Pam by slouching her over the branch, and he shook her to assure stability. Klinton dove into the waters and made an effort to save both of their lives. The currents were strong, but he was now used to carrying two people, making this swim a little easier. His desires to get the boat, to go home, and live were stronger than anyone else’s. He was able to grab the boat and climb aboard. He had a little trouble steering the boat by himself, but even getting it untangled proved difficult. However, if not for it being stuck, it probably would have floated away. After he accomplished the unweaving of the boat, he realized all in all it was a daunting task. Rowing through the rough current was only half the battle. He had given an effort he hadn’t given in quite some time. Those sprints coach used to require after football practice came rushing to his frontal lobe. All he could think of was the humiliation he would get from his buddies if he were cut from the squad. He rowed towards Pam’s tree with that same mentality, except for Pam was a driving force he didn’t have during his letter days. His life wasn’t on the line then either, but these were all after thoughts. The first thought was to get Pam and get home. A rough bump into one of the tree branches caused Klinton to jerk backwards. He dropped the paddle and stood up in the boat. It was easy to grab a branch above his head, but as he tried to get into the tree to retrieve Pam. His feet caused the boat to drift backwards and float away. Klinton was left hanging in the air by the branch. Frustration caused his eyes to blur, especially as he watched their way home float away. He had to think fast, because if the boat got caught in the current, then all hope would be lost. Klinton released both hands from the branch and plummeted into the water. He swam quickly to retrieve the boat. He grabbed just as the current was about to sweep it away. Amazingly, Klinton mustered enough strength to pull the boat closer to him. He used a close branch as leverage. He slowly climbed back into the boat and rowed back towards Pam. This time he needed a plan. He decided to use the oar and the oarlock that held it to the boat. The first attempt to use the oar as leverage was his attempt to weave it through the trees somehow. That didn’t work, because it moved too freely. It was designed that way. The clamp that held it to the boat allowed for movement for the sole purpose of rowing. This frustrated him, so he took the paddle out of the oarlock and used it to poke at Pam. He poked up high, and was successful at prying Pam into the water. A loud splash sounded from Pam’s helpless fall. “Hold on, Pam! I’m coming.” Klinton cried as he now used the oar for what it was designed to do. He got as close to Pam as the boat would allow and pulled her in. “Oh dear, I’m sorry. It was the only way, Pam! Pam, Pam! Wake up.” There was no response from Pam. He shook her and shook her, but that didn’t help. Klinton was worried. He had never had anyone die in his arms. “Oh, Pam you can’t die. I’m really attached to you now. Please don’t die now. I think I wanna love you. Please, besides that, you are too sweet to die.” Klinton held Pam in his arms and began to kiss her. He paid no attention to where they were drifting. His concerns were focused upon Pam’s well being. He and Roy had these emotions in common, grief for the loss of a close friend. The personalities were different so the results of these feelings were contrary. Roy now ran non-stop while bellowing. “Somebody, help my friends! They’re dead! Is there anyone left?” Roy stopped at a slight slope and noticed someone up there peeking at something. The rain had subsided and that allowed him to see a bit better. He noticed the peeping Tom was detective Edward Pullins. “Hey detective! I’m glad to see you. Hey, what are you looking at? Roy propped himself up to join Edward in his spying. He continued to ask questions loudly, “What’s going on?” “Shhh..!!” Roy looked stunned and wondered why he was being hushed. “What’s the problem? Why are you being so, hey! You haven’t told me what you’re looking at.” Roy focused his eyes in the same direction, “What! What is that” What’s going on?” Roy was baffled. “Huh! I was going to ask you the same thing,” uttered Edward in a calm tone. “I mean, you have been here for quite some time, so I think I need to be asking you. What the hell is going on here?” Roy looked at Edward and stated drunkenly, “Beats the hell out of me.” He turned back and continued his visual investigation. “Hey, isn’t that the Richard guy? What are they doing with him? Why in the hell is he naked?” The slowed rain helped the two pick up a few more details. Roy’s voice seemed to get louder and more obnoxious. “Who is that around that tree? Hey, isn’t that the professor, and that tribal woman we had captured? What is going on?” “Shhh! You’re too loud, and we can’t be seen.” “Damn it. You’re telling me to be quiet. I just saw my boss’s brains splattered everywhere, and my partner was just eaten by a snake, so I don’t have shit to be quiet about.” “Oh yes you do. If those savages discover us, we’ll end up down there as well. Oh! Who did you say that is, that professor guy?” “What are they about to do to them?” “Shit! Beats me. I just got here. What the hell has been going on here?” “Well! There have been people turning up dead, and that Richard guy wasn’t being honest” “I’m not surprised.” Edward turned to watch the ceremony. The two had no idea what the tribesmen had in mind for Richard, but they were about to find out. CHAPTER 28 Klinton Westfield was about to find out a few things for himself, like where the boat was carrying them down stream. He wouldn’t find this out immediately because his attention was on Pam. He softly kissed her. A tear pierced his eyes and then a revelation hit him. Past lessons of when he tried to be a lifeguard resurfaced. It was an unsuccessful attempt, but he did remember his mouth-to-mouth resuscitation program. He quickly made other uses with his mouth besides slobbering her with sorrow. He puckered his lips and sealed them against hers, and then began to blow. “Hold on, baby. I’ll save you. One-one thousand, two-one thousand, three-one thousand…” He blew heavily into her mouth once again. “One-one thousand, two-one thousand, three-one thousand.” He grew more tired with every exhalation. He tilted her neck back a little more, and blew. “Oh please, you can do it, you can do it! One-one thousand, two-one thousand, three-one thousand. Pam! Damn it, wake up. Pam Please.” He blew again. “One-one thousand, two-one thousand, three-one thousand, four-one thousand, five-one thousand.” A huge breath was administered. “One-one thousand, two-one thousand, three-one thousand.” “Ahgg, cough, a-huh, urrg,” uttered Pam as water poured from her mouth. “Pam, you’re alright! Oh thank God. I thought you weren’t going to make it.” Pam remained silent, but revealed appreciation in her eyes as she stared at Klinton. He held her in his arms and refused to let her go. However, those currents hadn’t let up much. Fortunately, the newly formed branch dumped into the river itself. Klinton was familiar with that body of water because he and Jerry encountered this same river. It lit his eyes up because all he had to do was paddle his way home, which might take several long hours, but that wasn’t much to ask considering the time they spent in the jungle. Happiness in the form of relief was brewing inside of Klinton, because he was on his way home and Pam was safe. He allowed the boat to drift downriver, choosing instead to have his arms around Pam. These events had brought them very close, and it would be interesting to see how the relationship grew once they were finally safe at home. Klinton’s eyes, for the first time in some time, separated from Pam’s to gaze downriver. He was relieved that he was actually going home. Edward Pullins did not have the same desires to get home, not before capturing Richard, but what he was witnessing made creepy feelings arise. He was also curious to the point that he wanted to question the loud and drunken Roy. That was no help because his efforts to remain quiet allowed the alcohol to get the best of him. Edward shook his head with disgust when he noticed Roy was passed out. He thought to himself, “How could one sleep in these conditions?” He turned back to watch Richard’s kidnappers. Miraculously, they had gotten an enormously hot fire started in the damp forest. He scooted downward for a better view. The fire was actually circular in shape, and surrounded the tree Richard was tied to. Edward now understood at least why his gut instinct was so strong before even arriving here. He watched the tribe dance around the tree and weaving in and out of the fire. He decided to scoot even closer. The drum rhythms were ominous to him, as were the chants and praises. It was nothing he could translate, and offered him no insight into the reason they had Richard. He watched two long lines of painted face men, all holding spears. The lines were about ten meters apart and parallel to each other. They faced each other with a look of death and no shame at the fact they were all naked. Edward focused on Richard’s face and noticed that the horror must have caused him to pass out. He couldn’t quite see the faces of the professor, let alone his counterpart. He couldn’t hear the other two cry out for help over the overwhelming noise of the drums beating, the loud chants, and faithful praises. They sounded like maybe ancient Indians, he thought, but then Edward had never heard an Indian, let alone an ancient one. This was all new to him, for he had been bred in the city and in a culture of technology and capitalism. In the background, running underneath of all other sounds, he could hear a twirling whisper. Edward was about to see something he had never seen before, something few people outside the tribe had ever seen, but that twirling sound had caught up with Edward and translated into a profound splat. A grunt of pain sounded from Edward’s mouth as blood gushed. A sharp arrow hurled from a precise bow pierced just inches from Edward’s heart. He splashed face first into a muddy puddle and now was unconscious just like Roy. His faint breaths caused bubbles to surface in the puddle of water in which he was now face down. His blood continued to run from his body, leaving him only enough to sleep, but the bleeding needed to be stopped, or he would be unconscious for good. But no one was available to pull out the arrow or dress the wound. Now there was nothing to stop the ceremony, to stop what had already been put into motion or the greater devastation that was to come. The first step in bringing the rainforest permanently alive was now being taken.