Downpour(3): La Madremonte (Part 2 of 2)

PART 2   

   By nightfall, Nick felt as if he could barely walk another step, and began to look for a place to make camp. He was not keen on the idea of staying on the forest floor, but the jungle had remained silent the entire afternoon. Even the bugs that had plagued him for the first half of the day had disappeared entirely. The reminders of their presence however had grown into itchy, bloody sores. Nick groaned every time the material of his shirt brushed against one of them, and nearly went mad from the burning sensation covering most of his body.

     For a moment Nick thought about climbing a tree and spending the night up high, but remembered the snake, and decided it was not his best idea. The jungle had closed in on all sides, making it difficult to find a place to step, let alone set up his tarp. The rain continued as the jungle began to plunge into darkness.

     Just before he thought he would not be able to find a place to sleep, Nick entered a clearing. Almost immediately, he set his bag down, relishing the feeling of weightlessness upon his shoulders. He pulled out the tarp and strung it between two trees at the edge of the clearing. It wasn’t much, but it would keep the rain from falling on his head, even if it still flooded the forest floor beneath him.

     Dinner was military rations, cold, as Nick could not seem to find a piece of dry wood for a fire. Don’t even see why they clear-cut the stuff. It’s got no use. He looked at the rainforest around him and thought not of its beauty, but of how he would fund a logging company if he ever escaped it. It was petty, but would bring him a small sense of satisfaction for his misfortune.

     Shortly after he had finished his meal, the rain stopped, and the skies cleared. The white light of the moon shone down from above, and filtered through the tree branches, casting the entire jungle in a bone-white light. Nick looked up at the canopy above him and felt a lump stick in his throat. No, it can’t be. Hanging from the tops of the trees was an empty parachute harness. There must have been plenty of people who fell into this jungle. The thought did nothing to assuage him, as the parachute looked brand new. The branch he had tried to grab lay broken on the ground not too far from him.

     Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glint of green moving in between the trees. Shit, he thought, and rummaged quickly for the book in his bag. If it’s in here, then he found a way to kill it. A quiet rustling filled the air, and the underbrush stirred with movement.

     Nick’s hands grew clammy even in the muggy heat. He could feel his heart beating out of his chest. It could have been lack of sleep, fear, or just sheer exhaustion, but it took great effort to turn the pages of the large manual. His fingers shook, and were clumsy.

     “Estas perdido?” The voice came like the very breath of the wind, and Nick stumbled backward.

     He whipped around and came face to face with a tall creature, covered head to foot in leaves and vines. From beneath an ugly veil that hung across both sides of its face, two green eyes glowed at him. Its hands bore long, claw like fingers, that raked at the ground as it walked forward, picking up more leaves to add to its collection.

     It made a horrible clicking sound, as if considering its prey, and then spoke again. “Estas perdido?” The voice was that of a woman, but deep and sonorous, as if it were the very forest speaking.

     Nick’s heart beat fast in his chest. The eyes stared unblinkingly into his. He watched the creature’s hands raise menacingly from the ground. Vines and roots left the forest floor, intertwining around its arms, and folding into its body. He felt at his side for the machete, but realized that he had dropped it when he went searching for the book.

     Alright, think about it, there must be some way to kill it. There always is. Nick rose slowly to his feet. The creature’s eyes followed him the whole time. He backed away, making sure to keep steady, and trying his best not to convey his fear. Easy, he thought. His heart was a bass drum in his head, blotting out all else, and he feared that the creature would hear it.

     The twisting vines and ragged leaves betrayed no vulnerable spots. Nick thought about going for its eyes, but was not entirely sure what else hid beneath the veil, and did not feel like losing a hand. Why can’t there be a big glowing orb or something to punch? In his experience, there were very few times that it was so simple.

     As if sensing his time to plot, the creature lifted its veil, revealing a set of gnarled teeth, pointing out in odd directions. It spoke once more, gnashing as it did so, and making a terrible grinding noise. “Intruso.” Only one word, but it shook the forest as if it were no more than twigs, barely rooted to the ground.

     Not knowing what else to do, Nick opted for distraction. “Sorry, I don’t speak Spanish.” He threw dirt in the creature’s face and dived for the tarp. There was a loud screeching noise that threatened to burst his eardrums and the creature gave chase, moving across the jungle floor as if it was a path made for her.

     “Shit,” Nick yelled, as he tripped over a root, and fell into the makeshift tent he had created. Footsteps followed fast, and he quickly found out just how sharp the creature’s claws were. The bony fingers pierced the tarp and tore through it like tissue paper.

     “That was expensive,” yelled Nick, feeling that berating the creature irrationally might buy him time. He scrambled in the mud looking for where he dropped the book. The clicking noise came from behind him once more, and he smelled the foul breath of something that had killed. It was a stench that he had come to associate with predatory animals.

     Nick’s heart skipped a beat as a few feet away he spotted the book lying in the torn tarp. He leapt for it, and felt himself pulled back as one of the large claws caught him on the back. Sharp pain came in pinpoints as the creature dug slowly into his skin. He cried out in pain and tried to struggle, but felt sleepy, and unable to fight.

     A wave of sickness crashed over him as the creature turned him around to face the green eyes and forest of teeth directly. It’s hot, stinking breath wafted into his face, and his eyes began to water. Now is your chance. Make sure to say something cool before you die. Nick had always admired the movie adventure heroes who got one pithy line out before they were killed, and had fancied that one day he would do the same.

     Looking up at the jungle around him he could think of nothing but the ending to Predator. Why does it always have to be Predator? The creature brought him closer, slowly, as if savoring the moments before his disembowelment. The pain in his back grew less by the moment, as he had almost become accustomed to the claws being stuck in his back.

     The creature let out a piercing cry, and its eyes narrowed.

     Nick took a deep breath. Well, I guess it’s better than nothing. Mustering his best macho voice, and trying not to betray the intense fear of facing his own death, he said: “You are one ugly mother-”

     The creature cut him off with a loud scream and backed away fast, as if burned. It clicked madly, reaching out to touch him with its claws, but looked as though it could come no closer. The eyes widened, as if in extreme anguish over losing their prey.

     What the hell? Thought Nick. He did not have a lot of time to analyze the situation, for the creature redoubled its strength and was advancing on him again. Maybe it doesn’t like Predator? The thought was absurd, but Nick felt there was no time to question it, and repeated the line once more. “You are one ugly mother-”

     Again, he was cut off by the creature’s shrieks, and watched with delight as it backed toward the edge of the forest. You have got to be kidding me. I guess all those Saturdays spent in front of the TV did some good. “You are one ugly-” he was screaming, but even still, the creature’s piercing cry drowned him out.

     With one final stare from its green eyes, the creature melted back into the forest, and instantly Nick felt as though a weight had lifted off his shoulders. The quiet chirping of nocturnal birds and the buzz of the jungle turned back up as if someone had muted it. Nick felt as though he had been in an icy bath, and was stepping out into warm sunlight, despite the growing darkness around him.

     Still stunned at what had happened, he returned to the torn canvas and picked up the leather-bound manual he had been reading. Even the stings of the various bugs assaulting him didn’t feel as oppressive. Once more, hope returned to him, however ill-advised it might have been. He turned the book to the page concerning La Madremonte, and continued reading where he left off.

     After stalking me throughout the day; the beast finally revealed itself as I had settled in for bed. Appearing directly behind me, it whispered in my ear, and then tried to shred me to ribbons. Luckily, having spent a good deal of time in Columbia, I was well familiar with her myth, and felt no fear.

     Likely story, thought Nick. His master, Henry, had been many things, but a brave man was not one of them. Mostly, he was a lecher, a drunk, and a damned good shot, which was enough to get him by in most situations.

     The Columbians say that it is best to avoid La Madremonte at all costs, but there is a very simple method for getting rid of it. Most people are too scared when confronted to say anything, but to banish the creature, all one must do is insult it. And, so, without gun, knife or stake, I drove the creature back into the forest by simply calling it a series of increasingly vulgar names.

     “Well I’ll be damned,” said Nick aloud. Closing the book, he realized how tired he had become. The tarp was shredded beyond repair, so Nick bundled it up and stuffed it against the bark of a large tree. Snakes weren’t a concern anymore, all he cared about was rest. He clutched his machete in his hand, put his head down on the tarp, and fell almost immediately into a deep sleep.