Disclaimer: Dreamworks

Wild Things

Melman's hooves thundered against the jungle floor as he raced after Alex and Gloria. His mind churned as fast as his legs. Madagascar. Is that what the squirrels had said? He had never heard of the place, but it was proving to be just as wild as it sounded. An unseen snake hissed in Melman's ear as he galloped through the trees. He ran faster.

The giraffe had never seen a human skeleton before, and it had left him quite shaken, to say the least. He desperately wanted to un-see the corpse, but the image remained ingrained in his visage: the tattered rags hanging off of the weathered bone; the empty eye sockets peering into his soul, even from several stories up; not to mention the skull's eerie, permanent smile. It was a warning of what was to come. How had that person died? Was it a plane crash? Exposure? Dehydration or starvation? Malaria?

It didn't really matter, did it?

Whatever killed that person was probably going to kill Melman and his friends, too. They had probably already contracted some tropical disease. Warm weather and humidity could be worse than the cold, sometimes, when it came to pathogens. Melman recalled the countless veterinary conversations he had listened in on; parasites found this sort of climate to their liking.

Some vines snagged around his neck, and he gagged. He felt sand under his hooves, but all he could see were leaves. They were crowded in around him, making it difficult to breathe. There had to be at least one spider in here somewhere. It was only a matter of time before it sank its fangs into him. He whirled around and around, trying to dislodge the small tangle of jungle encasing his head.

"Nature!" he shouted. "It's all over me – get it off! I can't see!" As he ran, a trailing vine got caught on something, and he was ripped from his entanglement. He blinked at the sudden brightness. "I can see!" But everything came rushing back. He remembered their predicament. How could he not? The ocean was eager to remind him.

If he shut his eyes, he would still hear the sounds of the jungle and of the waves lapping at the shore. He would continue to smell the wildflowers and the salty ocean breeze. So, he did the only logical thing he could think of: thrust his head into the sand and pray fervently to the heavens that it would all disappear.

It did little to help.

The sand pressed in on all sides, seeping into his nose and mouth. He could still feel the stings of the small scrapes on his ankles, acquired during his battle with the crate. Only one sensation resembled normality: the muffled voices of Alex and Gloria.

Melman clung to that small reminder of home. They still had each other.

"There's obviously just been a little mistake," Gloria said. "I'm sure the people didn't dump us here on purpose…As soon as they realize what happened, they will come looking for us, right?"

"Yeah! Right!" he agreed from beneath the sand. The people had to come back for them. They would realize that something had gone horribly wrong, and they would retrace the route of the ship!

"You know something? I bet they're already on their way…"

It was becoming difficult to breathe under the sand. Melman yanked his head from the ground and refilled his lungs. Alex was breathing heavily on the sand a few yards away. Gloria wistfully stared at the horizon. Melman shook the remaining sand clinging to his face and made his way over to them, just in time to hear the furious mutterings of an agitated lion.

"I'm going to kill him," Alex rasped as he staggered to his feet. He faced the ocean, glaring at the setting sun, fists clenched.

"Oh no, you ain't," Gloria warned, putting her hands on her hips. He turned to face her, and she sighed. "Alex, now really isn't the time to start something. We need each other now more than ever."

Alex merely rolled his eyes and sat down on the sand once more. "Yeah, sure. Whatever. But I'll never forgive him for this."

"But staying together won't help us when we all get malaria!"

"Mal-what-ia?" Alex asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Or lime disease," Melman continued, his eyes growing wide.

"Melman, you ain't helpin', hon."

He mumbled an apology and fell silent, but his thoughts continued to race. Influenza. Flesh-eating bacteria. All the pollen in the air would leave them sneezing until their last breath. Some teeny jungle worm probably already laid its eggs in the miniscule cuts on his ankles. Out here with no possibility of treatment, anything could happen. He remembered the skeleton in the trees and shuddered.

For a moment, none of them said anything. The stillness was heavy with a concoction of emotions that was mutual but unspoken. A little way down the beach, Marty was rejoicing. The striped stallion pranced along the shore with abandon, whooping and hollering for all to hear.

"Look at him." Alex scoffed. "Do you think he even cares about going home?"

It seemed like it should be an easy question to answer, but Melman didn't have a clue. He had to admit, he shared some of Alex's bitterness. They had been wrenched from everything they knew. There were no zoo keepers or doctors, no medicine or sanitation, no structure or scheduling, no chance of survival. Watching Marty, the one primarily responsible for their predicament, dance around without a hint of grief? It was enough to make anyone's blood boil – even someone as unshakeable as Gloria or as timid as Melman.

Did Marty care? "I'd like to think so," Melman answered truthfully.

"If he doesn't now, he will soon," Gloria said. Her brown eyes moved from Marty's celebratory gait to the horizon stretching endlessly before them. "Somethin' will make him see that this ain't good for any of us." Melman could see her wrestling with herself; she was torn. He could see how desperately she wanted her friends to be happy, safe, and together.

But there was something else, something visible only to the one who knew her best: Gloria was furious. And terrified. Melman wanted to comfort her and say that everything would be okay, but he dared not tell such a lie.

"But how long will that take?" Alex countered. "Are we just gonna sit around hoping that he comes to his senses?"

Melman felt the icy sensation of terror creeping into his chest. "We won't even last that long," he said, the enormity of their situation settling in. "We don't know the first thing about survival, and neither does Marty! We might have a few weeks before we starve to death, less if you factor in dehydration, exposure, disease…" He ran through the possibilities while Alex and Gloria studied him with unreadable expressions.

He wasn't finished, even though he was beginning to hyperventilate. "By the time the boat comes back for us – if it comes back for us – we'll all be long gone. Heck, I might as well start digging my grave right now!"

He finished his speech, gasping for air. No matter how much air he took in, it rushed out into the open instantly, as if it were eager to abandon the sinking ship that was his body. He could already feel death's glittering gaze on his every move, watching him silently from the jungle. They were done for. The skeleton in the tree was about to get some four-legged companions.

His vision was going black around the edges – or was he imagining it? He didn't know. What he did know was that death was inevitable. It was only a matter of when.

Tell her.

Woozy from his panic attack, Melman found no fault with the little voice in his head. However, that didn't stop every ounce of instinct from screaming at him, telling him that it wasn't worth it. That she wouldn't feel the same. That it would ruin what they had. That she would laugh and ask him when he got a sense of humor. That he should take his feelings to the grave.

It was better that way.

But the voice was insistent.

Tell her!

"Gloria, I –"

"Melman, you're a genius!" Alex exclaimed, jumping up from his place on the sand. "We don't have any shovels, but we can make this work."

"W-what?" Melman stared at the lion, aghast.

Alex tapped his chin thoughtfully, and Melman could practically see the wheels turning in his head. The feline jogged over to a stretch of sand closer to the jungle. "Right here," he delegated.

Gloria and Melman followed him, exchanging worried and confused glances.

"Alex?" Gloria questioned. "What are you doing?"

Alex didn't respond immediately. He drew a crude rectangle in the sand with his finger. Melman trembled.

The lion stepped back to address his bewildered companions.

"Start digging."

*dramatic music* I hope you liked this! I need to rewatch the first movie until my eyes bleed :) I'm going to try and get one chapter up roughly every 2 weeks, maybe even more often before school starts.

Feel free to PM me or leave suggestions in the comments! Thanks for reading and reviewing! Please continue to do so ;). I bid thee farewell for now!