Kwame's POV (Continued)
When Captain Penny barked her orders and motioned toward the ravine, I was already scanning the perimeter. Faces rushed past me—wild-eyed, breathless, clutching machetes and flashlights as if they were shields that could somehow protect them from this living, breathing predator of a forest.
"Take the others east!" she called.
I didn't hesitate. I nodded once, grabbed the closest person—a young woman clutching her brother's hand—and started forcing a corridor through the underbrush with the flat of my blade.
We were maybe ten strong at first. But others followed. Stragglers from the disoriented center of the camp began latching onto the only visible thread of structure we had.
"Stay close! Watch your footing!" I shouted. "No gaps!"
Every sound now had weight—snapping twigs, rustling leaves, the sharp cries behind us. It didn't matter how many times I told myself to focus; every footstep that wasn't mine felt like it belonged to a hunter.
And yet, it wasn't the jaguar or puma I feared most—it was the unknown. The silence that would fall after each scream. The realization that one more body wouldn't be found.
As I cleared through a patch of vines, I noticed the group behind me growing.
Fifteen. Then twenty.
I was losing track.
But I kept chopping.
One girl stumbled. Another had a bloodied leg—she had scraped against bark that had splintered like teeth. I doubled back, hoisted her arm over my shoulder, and motioned to the others to keep moving.
"Kwame!" someone called. It was the scout I'd sent ahead. "There's a low slope ahead—we can funnel the group through it toward a stream."
I nodded. "Make sure it's not a trap. Nothing ambushes us in that bend. Go!"
He vanished.
The wind shifted. I tasted something metallic in it.
Blood.
Too close.
Suddenly, a man came tearing through the brush, alone, clothes torn and eyes wild. "They're gone!" he cried. "Gone!"
I grabbed him by the shirt. "Who's gone?"
"My group… The rear… it just… it just disappeared."
I looked over his shoulder toward the shadows. A ripple passed through the leaves. My gut clenched.
The puma.
It had circled. Again.
Silently.
Effortlessly.
I set the girl down gently. Pulled my rifle up. "EVERYONE MOVE!" I shouted. "FAST AS YOU CAN! STRAIGHT THROUGH!"
"But—"
"I'LL HOLD THE REAR!"
No time for debate.
Not here.
I moved to the back, rifle aimed at the treeline, daring anything to break through.
Then I saw it.
Just a flicker—between two trees.
The eyes.
Not glowing. Watching.
Intelligent.
The puma wasn't chasing.
It was testing.
Waiting for a mistake.
I didn't give it one.
I stepped backward, slowly, rifle never dropping, breath held like it was the last one I might take.
We moved like that—until I saw the slope ahead open into a rocky descent. Water glittered faintly at the bottom.
The stream.
The group ahead let out small sounds—half-sobs of relief.
But I didn't stop moving.
I didn't stop watching.
Not even as the sound of the jungle quieted.
And then—
A scream. Faint. Not from behind.
From the bush.
A man.
I ran toward it.
—
---
Lola's POV
From the moment Joseph and I stepped away from the group, a haunting stillness took over.
The others were rushing toward the ravine as ordered. But we—no, he—decided we should take a different path. Through the bush. For my sake.
For the baby's sake.
At first, I agreed. The ravine looked too steep, too risky. But I never expected the jungle to answer us so... personally.
The air thickened as we pushed forward. Trees leaned over like sentinels. Vines snaked across our boots. I leaned into Joseph with each step, my balance faltering under the strain of carrying life while walking the razor's edge between survival and surrender.
Then… it kicked.
Not just a flutter. Not just movement.
A sharp, almost angry pulse of life. Inside me.
Joseph helped me sit beneath a wide-leafed tree. I wanted to tell him everything was okay. That I could keep going. That I wouldn't slow us down.
But I couldn't lie.
Pain wrapped itself around my waist like a belt drawn tight. I gasped. Clenched my teeth.
Joseph handed me water. His eyes were frantic but focused. He crouched beside me, brushing hair from my face. "Ten minutes," he whispered. "Just rest. You'll be fine."
But we both knew… the Amazon didn't give time. It took it.
I leaned my head back against the tree trunk, eyes closed, trying to breathe.
Trying to be strong.
Trying not to listen to the jungle.
But then I felt it.
Something shifted in the wind. A rhythm in the leaves. A slither, not a breeze.
At first, I thought it was a dream.
Then… I heard it.
A hiss.
My eyes snapped open.
Joseph was gone—only a few steps away, checking for water or some kind of direction. He was gone for just a second.
But in that second, it found me.
From the underbrush, it emerged—like a nightmare rising slowly through syrup.
Green. Coiled. Silent. Massive.
An anaconda.
Its eyes locked with mine, expressionless, but aware. Too aware.
I couldn't scream. I froze.
It slithered in a tight circle, forming a coil around me.
Slowly.
Powerfully.
Like it had done this many times before.
I was prey.
"JOSEPH!" I finally screamed. My voice broke in three different places.
He turned and saw it.
And that's when his scream pierced through the trees.
"HELP! HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME!"
"LOLA'S IN TROUBLE!"
Joseph ran toward me, panic in every movement. But it was too late. The first coil tightened across my legs. My hip. My stomach.
The baby.
No. No.
"JOSEPH!" I gasped again, now half-sobbing.
My lungs felt pressed by iron. The air refused to move through my throat. I felt myself slipping—not just from consciousness, but from everything.
My life. My child. My name.
All fading.
Then—
A crash of leaves.
A shape cut through the green.
And then came a voice.
"MOVE!"
Caleb.
Swinging a machete like a man possessed.
He didn't hesitate. Not even for a moment.
The blade slammed into the snake once—then again. I felt the coils around me loosen, twitch, then retreat.
Then they shifted.
To him.
He shoved me backward. I fell into Joseph's arms.
And then the serpent turned its fury on Caleb.
I watched in horror—too weak to scream, too breathless to cry—as the anaconda wrapped itself around his chest, lifting him off the ground.
Joseph held me. I could feel his heart pounding against my back.
"Go!" Caleb gasped, even as the air began to vanish from his lungs.
We ran.
But I left a piece of myself in those coils.
Because sometimes, survival is not clean.
It costs everything.
—
---
Caleb's POV (Part 1)
I heard the scream before I saw anything.
"HELP! HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME!"
Joseph's voice.
Then another scream—Lola's. High. Panicked. Breathless.
My legs moved before my brain did. I hacked through thick bush, cutlass in hand, pulse in my ears like war drums. I had been following from a distance, trying to stay close, making sure they were safe even after splitting from the group.
I never expected what I saw.
A snake—no. Not a snake. A demon in reptile skin.
An anaconda. Bigger than anything I'd ever seen in books or nightmares. Its body was thick enough to crush tree trunks, and it was wrapped around Lola like it had claimed her soul already.
Joseph knelt beside her, screaming, useless.
Not his fault. You can't fight something like that with bare hands.
But I had steel.
I shouted, "MOVE!" before my fear could say otherwise.
Joseph stumbled back, dragging Lola with him.
I charged forward.
I brought the blade down hard—into thick, wet muscle. The sound was sickening, but I didn't stop. Again. Again. The cutlass vibrated in my hand with each strike.
It loosened its grip on Lola.
She fell back. Alive.
But then it turned.
On me.
I barely had time to swing again before it lunged. Its head slammed into my shoulder, knocking the blade from my grip.
And then—coils.
Thick. Crushing.
It wrapped around my chest, arms, legs. Everything. My ribs compressed like dry wood under a boot.
I couldn't scream. Couldn't move.
I saw Joseph's face.
Terror. Desperation. And something else—resolve.
He tried to run toward me.
"No!" I managed to croak. "GO!"
He didn't move.
"RUN, DAMN IT!"
I wanted to die on my feet. Fighting.
Not holding anyone back.
The pressure increased. I felt blood rush to my head. Stars exploded behind my eyes.
But I didn't think of death.
I thought of survival.
Of them surviving.
And if my life was the cost?
So be it.
—
---
Caleb's POV – Final (Part 2)
January 2000
The scream that escaped my lips wasn't planned.
It was instinct.
A blur of muscle and fury sailed through the air above me—a puma. Towering. Impossibly fast. Its paws barely brushed the earth as it soared, and for a terrifying moment, I thought it would land right on top of me.
But it didn't.
It landed beyond me. And it landed with purpose.
Not fear. Not panic. But power.
It prowled into the heart of the camp like a king returning to its throne. The ground didn't shake from its weight—it shivered from its presence.
That wasn't just an animal.
It was a message.
And we'd trespassed where we didn't belong.
People scattered like leaves in a windstorm. The screams around me blurred into background noise. I knelt behind the half-collapsed flap of a tent, heart in my throat, rifle clutched to my chest. My breath stuttered.
I wanted to fire.
I really did.
But my hands—steady minutes ago—now trembled with fear.
Just as I began to squeeze the trigger—
Bang!
A single gunshot echoed like thunder across the clearing.
I flinched.
The jaguar nearest to Captain Penny collapsed in a heap.
Kwame. Of course it was him.
His shot bought her life. Bought us time.
Then came a second shot.
Bang!
Another jaguar—a younger one—caught the edge of the round and bolted into the foliage. Injured, but not dead.
Three down, one to go. All thanks to Kwame.
And then Penny's voice rang out.
"To the ravine! Quickly—MOVE!"
Her order cracked through the air like a whip, and people responded.
The group began to divide—some toward the ravine, others breaking toward the bush, following Kwame's lead. It wasn't a clean retreat. It was chaos guided by instinct and desperation.
And then, in the middle of it all, I saw them.
Joseph. And Lola.
He had his arm around her, cradling her carefully as she winced and stumbled forward. They paused at the edge of the clearing—Joseph looked toward the ravine, then toward the bush.
And then he made a choice.
He pulled her toward the bush.
Away from the others.
Away from Penny.
My gut tightened.
I wanted to follow Penny—her path was safer. Familiar. Coordinated.
But something pulled at me.
Something deeper.
They're not going to make it, a voice whispered.
Joseph was strong. Loyal. Determined. But he looked frayed. Fractured. He was carrying more than just a woman—he was carrying their child. Their hope. Their fear.
And she… she didn't look good. Every step was agony. Her arms wrapped around her belly like armor, her face pale as mist.
I watched them vanish into the brush, swallowed by vines and shadows.
I turned to follow Penny's route.
Then I stopped.
No.
My body moved before my mind could reason with it.
I turned toward the bush.
And I followed them.
Not too close. Not too far.
Just enough.
If something happened… I'd be there.
Even if I didn't know what I could do.
The jungle was thicker here. The screams of the others faded behind me. Branches tugged at my shirt, thorns bit into my legs. The air was humid and close.
Then—
"HELP! HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME!"
Joseph's voice.
Raw. Panicked. Desperate.
I sprinted.
I didn't think. I didn't breathe.
I heard thrashing. A sickening slither.
Then—
I broke through the foliage.
And I saw it.
Lola.
And wrapped around her—
An anaconda.
Massive. Coiled. Hungry.
Joseph was trying to tear at its body with his bare hands.
Useless. Helpless.
And Lola—her face was twisted in pain, breath choked, hands slipping down the snake's slick sides.
"God," I whispered.
Then I yelled:
"MOVE!"
I raised my cutlass high.
And charged.
—
---
Caleb's POV – Final (Part 3)
January 2000
The moment I saw Lola slip free from the anaconda's crushing grip, a wave of relief flooded through me. My chest, tight with panic, finally softened—for a breath.
She was alive. She was safe.
But at a cost.
Because now… it was me.
The serpent's body recoiled from her and turned. Its head angled with eerie stillness, eyes locking with mine. Its movements weren't wild. No, they were deliberate. It knew what had happened. It knew who took its prize.
And it wasn't going to lose again.
A shiver crawled up my spine as it lunged toward me—coiling, wrapping tighter than before. I felt its full weight press in, each breath harder than the last. My ribs strained. My shoulders trembled.
The world narrowed.
I looked up—and caught Joseph's eyes. He stood just a few feet away, holding Lola in his arms. Her face was tear-streaked, contorted in silent agony, whispering cries of "No… no… not him…"
"Go," I forced out through my teeth.
He hesitated.
I gritted my jaw and stared straight into him. "Take her. Save your child."
And something in him shifted.
He nodded, once—eyes glassed over with pain. With respect.
With brotherhood.
He turned.
And ran.
Lola's cries echoed behind them as they vanished through the vines. It broke something in me. But it also steeled me.
I wouldn't let this be my final moment.
Not like this.
My head swam. My limbs went numb. The anaconda tightened, slow and steady, as if savoring the kill. My lungs screamed for air.
Not yet… Not now.
Somewhere deep inside me—a fire ignited.
I reached down, fingers digging blindly through my torn pocket. Every inch of my body was shaking. My chest felt caved in. But I found it.
The knife.
Still there.
Still mine.
My fingers curled around the hilt with the last ounce of strength I had.
And I struck.
"Tzzk—"
The blade pierced skin.
The snake jolted, the grip loosening just enough.
I didn't hesitate. I plunged the blade again. And again. My vision blurred with tears—whether from pain or fury, I didn't know.
But I kept cutting.
Until its coils began to fall away.
Until I could move.
Until it stopped moving.
When the final shudder passed through its body and it lay limp beside me, the jungle fell eerily quiet.
I was still breathing.
Barely.
But I was alive.
I collapsed to my knees, coughing violently, spitting dirt and blood from my mouth.
Then I stood.
And ran.
Every muscle in my body screamed, but I followed the path Joseph had taken—chasing the faint sounds of footfalls ahead.
And there they were.
Joseph turned as I crashed through the brush, his eyes widening in disbelief.
Lola gasped—then cried.
Tears rolled down her cheeks as she reached for me, and I saw in her eyes not just gratitude, but something deeper.
Hope.
Joseph moved forward and pulled me into an embrace—tight and silent.
No words.
None were needed.
I handed him my box of matches, motioned for him to protect the rear, and tightened my grip around the rifle.
Lola stayed in the middle.
Joseph at the back.
And me—
I took point.
One step at a time.
Guiding us toward Penny.
Toward whatever hope still lived beyond the wild.
---