Tarzan 2014
Chapter One
I hate traveling. I officially hate it. Well, I don't hate all travel but this has to be the worst form of it. To travel through the dense, damp, and above all, humid African jungle on foot for a whole month; drenched in my own sweat. Why couldn't we go via Jeep or any other all-terrain vehicle. This was not the way I wanted to spend my summer vacation let me tell you; but when your mother and father are two highly renowned Archaeologists who are in apparently in need of some 'Family time'; this happens no matter what you say.
My brunette hair was in a frizzy braided mess, and I was forced to wear my old baseball cap to hide the worst of it on the top of my head. Sweat beaded down my face from the humidity, and large pit stains were on clearly visible down the sides of my shirt. For some reason the jungle leaves kept slapping me in the face, if the jungle hated me I shared the same sentiments. We were already halfway through the dense jungle, and we still had three weeks left of the jungle hike, and I swore I was going to die from loss of blood from the blood-sucking insects drinking my veins dry.
My younger brother is off in boarding school for the next two months, and he thinks he's missing out on all the fun. Well what he is missing is something I would switch with him in a heartbeat. I don't care if I have to spend eternity in a textbook, I would still think it's better than being slowly eaten alive by misquotes.
"This is ridiculous," I swat at the bugs flying circles around my head, whilst trying to keep up with our group.
My parents giggle like children, "Now, Jane; I thought you liked the outdoors," my mother smiles.
"Back in Baltimore maybe; there I'm not being sucked dry by vampire flies," I swat at a mosquito, not paying attention to the tree stump by my foot; causing me to trip into the back of one of our hired guards.
The burly man glared daggers through my skull as I sheepishly back away from him. He is intimidating and far beyond scary. If you made a sudden movement around him, his rifle would be up your nose in the blink if an eye; and your pants wouldn't be drenched in sweat, but something else.
I didn't agree with my parents hiring the people they did; they were shady, and a little too cheap for the amount of money we brought with us. The guide was the only man that we hired who spoke English, and he was a piece of work all on his own.
He wasn't as burly or built like the pack man we hired, but he was far more brain than brawn. It seemed like he and my father had gotten along too well, they were always talking about the local legends of this part of the amazon. His ego was the worst part of him.
My mother would laugh at the man's corny jokes about jungle life. It seemed too weird, my mother couldn't stand my sarcasm any day of the week, but for some reason his textbook jokes were pure comedy gold to her. The main thing about that guy that really crept me out was the way he looked at me, it was so primal and disturbing. I was scared to fall asleep at night because in had that constant feeling of being watched. This whole vacation was so wrong in a number of ways I couldn't count all of them. Thank God I was the one who was in possession of the machete.
"Alright everybody, we have a ten minute break and the we start toward the cliff-tops," our guide turned around to us, letting his men find a make-shift couch they could sit on.
"Well, I'm off to use the ladies room for a tinkle, I'll be right back Janie," My mother dropped her backpack beside me. As my mother left, one of the hired men seemed to have the same idea, but for some reason he took his rifle with him.
"Seriously Mom, you don't need to tell me that," I pinched the bridge of my nose.
I sat under the dense shade of a low tree, relishing the coolness of the moss on my sweaty hands.
"How you holding up sport," my father hovered above me, a canteen in one hand and his other leaning on the tree.
"Slowly dying of loss of blood, how about you," I asked as a swatted at the mosquitoes sucking my blood; my father handed me the canteen of water.
"You know, you should hear the legend around here, the 'El Dorado of Africa' they call it. A lost city filled with gold by the tons, that and extensive knowledge of an ancient undiscovered civilization. Clayton says that for hundreds years men and women have ventured into the jungle and are never heard from again. He said that the locals have seemed a spirit protects the jungle from the ones who venture too close to it. Sound like anything up, your alley Jane?"
"Sounds like something he pulled out of a Stephen King novel," I glared at Clayton for a second before turning back to my father.
"Dad, I don't like these people, they scare me."
"Why? They seem fine to me," my father argued.
"You're kidding right? You don't think that they are a little too shady to you," I gestured to the men we hired, whom were gather together like a band if rats.
"They were the cheapest we could afford, and they are a loyal group, you should give them a chance," my father countered, though he seemed sheepish by the tone in his voice.
"Mr. Porter, would your daughter mind if I have a word with you," Clayton called my father, though his eyes were staring straight at me. My father began to walk over to him, leaving me to fend for myself.
I looked at my watch strapped to the inside of my wrist, we only had four minutes left of our break, and my mother still wasn't back yet. If she had to 'tinkle' then she would have been back by now. So where was she?
I grabbed my backpack and slid it over my shoulders. As careful as I could I backed into the jungle brush behind the log where I was sitting; so I wouldn't attract too much attention.
When the break site was out of view, I started searching for my mother's footprints; maybe those survival movies were helping out after all. Turning my baseball cap backwards, I finally spotted a footprint about my mother's size.
I began to follow the footprints closely, careful not to trip over anything and lose the tracks all together. With, my machete in hand I hacked the dense brush wide open, only to find two sets of footprints. The footprints of my mother were very different from the new ones, the new set were barefoot, and it seemed there was somewhat of a struggle and my mother started running in a different direction than she was before. That's when I heard a gunshot, and a scream; not just any random scream; it was my mother's scream.
I knew then my mother was in danger, and if I went back I could very well find my mother dead, but if I kept following the tracks, I could help my mother quickly and get her back. And I knew that Clayton would probably want more money if I asked him to help me, or even worse not help at all.
I kept a tight grip on my machete as I followed the tracks once more, picking up the pace knowing my mother was in trouble. As I followed her prints, more and more sets of footprints began to appear, so this was a group of people whom were chasing her.
As I kept my head down to the earth, something landed on my head; causing my to face-plant into the jungle floor. I rubbed the top of my head, only to have it graze over something scaly. Last time I checked; my baseball cap didn't have scales. I screamed, trying to get whatever was on my head off. I heard a snarl as I slapped the creature off of my cap. I pointed my machete at what was formerly on my head and now in the jungle floor, only to find a small, lanky blue chameleon.
It licked its eye with its slimy tongue, but it wasn't something that would kill me, I hope. I lowered my machete slowly, but I was still cautious of my surroundings, even more so when I heard a twig snap.
My machete was instantly pointing in the direction where I heard the sound. My hands we're clammy from nerves. I heard distant crunching of twigs getting louder and louder, and the chameleon was wrapped around my leg from fear. I gulped.
Next thing I know is that my face in in the dirt once more and I hear my mother's fearful voice. My mother had run into me from behind, why do I find that typical.
"Mom? What happened, who is chasing you," I asked frantically, not caring that I am covered in mud, or that the chameleon is now on perched on my shoulder like a canary.
"The men we hired, they set us up, no time to explain, just run," my mother whirled me around and pushed my back so I would start running.
I kept a grip on my mother's hand as we ran through the brush. I could hear the distant shouts of the men catching up to us, urging me to pick up the pace. My mother however was already exhausted from running for so long.
"Leave me, I am too old for this," my mother slowed to a stop, I could see the cliff tops just a few yards away.
"We are just by the cliff tops, you can make it," I pulled my mother to run but she was lagging in my grip, slowing us down substantially.
"Give me the knife, I will hold them off as long as I can, you go to the nearest village and get help," my mother snatched the machete from me.
"How in the hell am I going to do that?! We are in the middle of the jungle! C'mon, I have an idea that will fool them," I snatched the machete back and pulled her wrist to follow me once more.
We reached the edge of the cliff tops, where a whole denser and darker jungle lay below it. This jungle seemed as if it were hiding many dangerous things, but I knew that that part of the jungle was our ticket out, or down. The cliffs were equivalent to a vertical mountain side, and if I were to fall, let's just say I would look like a pancake.
I sheathed my machete and grabbed a sturdy vine and began to scale down the cliff side slowly. I looked back up at mother, whom was no the less skeptical.
"This is your idea? Are you sure this is even safe?"
"Do you want to be killed by hired goons or do you wanna live," I stated simply, at the moment I was thanking god that I was used to scaling down rock-walls back when I was in college.
My mother huffed and searched for a sturdy vine apart from my own, knowing that if any more weight were added, it would snap.
As my mother shifted so that the vine was in between her legs, a dark hand snatched her away from the edge.
"Get your filthy hands off of me!" Mother shouted as she was soon crying out through some sort of cloth, meaning she was quickly gagged.
I kept silent, cursing that I wasn't able to do something. Though if I knew if I made any sound, they would find me if they didn't know I was on the cliff side already.
I slowly but surely started to reverse my scale and began upwards, keeping as quiet as I possibly could. The blue chameleon on my shoulder seemed to share the same sentiments of silence.
I was just in the shadow of the Cliffside, a few feet from the top when a voice, add me halt.
"Well it seems we have found the lovely college graduate men," I heard the voice of Clayton boast eagerly. My head shot upward to see the silhouettes Clayton and his men. Clayton seemed to be leaning on his rifle for support, while the man next to him had a machete in hand.
"Seems such a shame to leave you here, Ms. Porter, you are in an awful predicament," Clayton said smugly.
"No better than you kidnapping your clients," I retorted, receiving a growl from the man.
"It seemed that you were the only one in this family that had any common sense, too bad it will cost you," Clayton snatched the machete from the man next to him. He pressed it on the vine that I was holding. My eyes grew wide, knowing what he was going to do next.
"Sorry pretty girl, this is strictly business," Clayton sliced the vine off at the ledge, leaving no time to grab on to anything else for support.
It was then I began to plummet to the jungle below me, screaming for my life as I did so.