Part 43: Into the Valley of . . . .
The jungle was ripe with heat and humidity. John did his best to ignore it. Right behind him was Natasha, then Mia and following up in the rear was Cecil and Martin. The archer was hoping for a smaller group ; it would have made traveling easier. But he was also glad that more people decided to help out with surviving on the island.
Near the back, Cecil coughed and wheezed. He kept walking regardless. A V shape line of sweat was forming on his back. He stumbled for a second but Martin stayed with him. Cecil motioned that he didn’t need any help. As the two kept walking, Martin decided to make small talk. “Where you from, Mr. Walker?” he asked.
Cecil smiled, “I’m from all over.”
“What does that mean?”
“I go where the roads take me, kid. I never stay in one place too long.”
“So the roads led you to Australia?” asked the young black man.
“The road led to the airport actually,” he smiled.
Martin chuckled at the small joke. “You moved to Australia? Why? Just for the hell of it?”
“Some place I never been before. I figured, why the hell not?” Cecil coughed again,” Why were you in Australia?”
“Doing research,” Martin sighed, “For my book.”
“You a writer?”
“Not yet. I got a huge collection of rejection letters. But my mother told me never to give up, so I am not. I was doing research on living life in a desert.”
“Well, I wouldn’t worry, Kid. When we get rescued, all you got to do is write about all we seen here. It’ll be a New York Times Best Seller.”
“Yeah, “Martin laughed, “I suppose it will.”
Up ahead John continued to move through the woods. He kept an eye out for anything that looked unusual. The first time he and McKay ventured into the woods they found a humungous pile of feces. The archer was certain it came from the polar bear. But that crap also had to originate from something as well. Was the bear eating boar or fish? And if it was fish, then where was it getting it? “John, hello?” Natasha called.
“Hmm?” John turned around.
“Geez, where were you?” the brunette asked.
“I don’t know. I think I was in Zombie Mode. Where you asking me something?”
“Yeah, I was asking if you are married.”
“No. How about you?”
“Not really.” She sighed.
“Not really?” John smirked, “How can you NOT REALLY be married?”
“Me and my husband are separated. He handed me the divorce papers while I was in Sydney.” Natasha scoffed, “Coward.”
“I’ll admit that is pretty brutal,” the archer sighed, “I take it he was elsewhere?”
“Back in L.A. Probably selling all my stuff.” Natasha gently touched his shoulder, “You haven’t asked me what I was doing in Australia?”
John turned his head and smiled. “No, I haven’t.”
Natasha smirked as she kept walking. She found John extremely attractive. She had hoped to get him alone but that might come at another time. The sassy brunette wanted to make sure that John trusted her. It might be needed in the future.
The group paused again. Cecil stopped by a tree, grabbing it. He coughed and coughed, finding it more difficult to breathe. Mia was certain the old man might just die out here. “Maybe you should go back, Mr. Walker?” the young girl asked.
“I’m fine. I just need to catch my breath.” He coughed.
“Sir, really, you don’t look good,” Martin mentioned, “You should probably head back and let Dr. Largo look at you.”
“Oh, that’s funny, kid, “ Cecile wheezed, “I have a feeling Ray Charles isn’t going to be able to look at anyone for a quite a while.”
Then John snatched up an arrow, and in one fluid motion, turned, aimed and fired. The arrow snagged a bit of Cecil’s hair and slammed into the tree three inches from his face. The old man grabbed the side of his head, feeling the small trickle of blood. “YOU CRAZY SON OF A BITCH!” he screamed, “What do you think you’re-“
“Listen up, Cecil,” John pointed his bow at him, “I won’t let you bad mouth Tony. You say one more word about him and I’ll show you how accurate I am.”
Cecil gritted his teeth at the archer. He tapped the side of head, feeling the bleeding had already stopped. “Now you got two choices, “ John ordered, “You either head back to the beach or you cowboy up and stay with us. Which is it?”
Cecil stared at John with complete hatred. He didn’t like being told what to do. But he didn’t back down from any man either. “Lead on, stud.” He whispered.
“Mia, do me a favor,” John asked, “Retrieve my arrow.”
John turned around and began walking. Natasha waited for a few seconds then followed. The young Lakota woman walked over and grabbed the arrow. She gritted her teeth slightly as she managed to pull the arrow out. She started walking with the others. Martin was in awe of what he just saw. It was hard to get over what he knew of John Riggs, the Olympian Archer. In that world, he was second best. Here on the island, he was the best he had ever seen. “Good thing he missed, huh?” Martin said, not turning around to Cecil.
Mia played with the arrow, looking back to Martin. “Something tells me . . .he didn’t miss.” She giggled.
“Hah, hah.” Cecil said sarcastically.
Mia ran up toward the front of the line, handing John his arrow back. The archer thanked her, while he placed the sharp plastic stick into his quiver. “Hopefully, I’ll find my own case and get my arrows to add to it.”
“How many do you have?” Mia asked.
“Eighteen,” John sighed, “But I would feel comfortable if I had more.”
“I’ll say. You’re one hell of a shot with that, John. It’s hard to believe you are a silver medalist.”
“There is a story behind that, actually,” John laughed.
“Really? I’d love to hear it.”
“Tell you, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll tell you the story about why I became a silver medalist if you tell me why a Native American girl wound up in Australia.”
“Deal.” She giggled.
Natasha bent her eyebrows inward as she watched the two of them. Who the hell did this little minx think she was, she thought. What purpose could it serve her to cozy up to John? Even though Natasha enjoyed competition, she had to move soon if she was going to get on John’s good side. Her thoughts were interrupted as John stopped the line. He held his arm out, stopping Mia. Martin and Cecil stopped too. “John, what is going on?” Mia asked.
“Shhh,” he silenced her, then looked at her, “ Do you smell that?”
Mia took a whiff and immediately gagged. Natasha caught the smell too. “Smells like something died.” She coughed.
John pulled out an arrow and cocked it back in his compound bow. He slowly advanced through the dense jungle. The others stayed behind him, ready for anything. John moved more branches out of the way. Then the source of the smell appeared right before him.
It was the polar bear.
The giant beast was not moving, and judging by the smell plus the swarming flies, it looked like he died some time ago. Everybody held their noses as they approached. John walked over to the head of the bear. It’s mouth was gaping open, with small bugs coming out of it. What the archer noticed as the mouth was filled with blood, even somewhat leaked into the ground. Then he walked over to where his arrows were, sticking in the side of the beast. He wasn’t able to see where he was hitting him on the beach but at that moment he could. “I must have punctured a lung,” he said aloud, “The bear did die from his wounds but only internal.”
“Big sucker still needed to breathe.” Martin mentioned.
“Sorry about that, Mr. Bear,” John grunted, yanking out his arrows, “But it was either you or McKay, and the Australian we needed.”
The group didn’t say anything to John’s comments but Mia enjoyed them. It reminded her of her people and their ancestors. How they would hunt buffalo but yet give them praise and even apology to them for taking their lives. John bothering to apology to the dead bear meant he knew it wasn’t evil but he knew he had to kill it to protect the others. The young Lakota was starting to see how interesting a man the archer really was.
John placed the two arrows back into the quiver. Now he was up to 20 arrows. He motioned for the others to follow him, realizing their was nothing left here for them to do. The polar bear might have been edible but McKay was the only one with a blade.
The group continued their journey into the valley up ahead.
Near the back, Cecil coughed and wheezed. He kept walking regardless. A V shape line of sweat was forming on his back. He stumbled for a second but Martin stayed with him. Cecil motioned that he didn’t need any help. As the two kept walking, Martin decided to make small talk. “Where you from, Mr. Walker?” he asked.
Cecil smiled, “I’m from all over.”
“What does that mean?”
“I go where the roads take me, kid. I never stay in one place too long.”
“So the roads led you to Australia?” asked the young black man.
“The road led to the airport actually,” he smiled.
Martin chuckled at the small joke. “You moved to Australia? Why? Just for the hell of it?”
“Some place I never been before. I figured, why the hell not?” Cecil coughed again,” Why were you in Australia?”
“Doing research,” Martin sighed, “For my book.”
“You a writer?”
“Not yet. I got a huge collection of rejection letters. But my mother told me never to give up, so I am not. I was doing research on living life in a desert.”
“Well, I wouldn’t worry, Kid. When we get rescued, all you got to do is write about all we seen here. It’ll be a New York Times Best Seller.”
“Yeah, “Martin laughed, “I suppose it will.”
Up ahead John continued to move through the woods. He kept an eye out for anything that looked unusual. The first time he and McKay ventured into the woods they found a humungous pile of feces. The archer was certain it came from the polar bear. But that crap also had to originate from something as well. Was the bear eating boar or fish? And if it was fish, then where was it getting it? “John, hello?” Natasha called.
“Hmm?” John turned around.
“Geez, where were you?” the brunette asked.
“I don’t know. I think I was in Zombie Mode. Where you asking me something?”
“Yeah, I was asking if you are married.”
“No. How about you?”
“Not really.” She sighed.
“Not really?” John smirked, “How can you NOT REALLY be married?”
“Me and my husband are separated. He handed me the divorce papers while I was in Sydney.” Natasha scoffed, “Coward.”
“I’ll admit that is pretty brutal,” the archer sighed, “I take it he was elsewhere?”
“Back in L.A. Probably selling all my stuff.” Natasha gently touched his shoulder, “You haven’t asked me what I was doing in Australia?”
John turned his head and smiled. “No, I haven’t.”
Natasha smirked as she kept walking. She found John extremely attractive. She had hoped to get him alone but that might come at another time. The sassy brunette wanted to make sure that John trusted her. It might be needed in the future.
The group paused again. Cecil stopped by a tree, grabbing it. He coughed and coughed, finding it more difficult to breathe. Mia was certain the old man might just die out here. “Maybe you should go back, Mr. Walker?” the young girl asked.
“I’m fine. I just need to catch my breath.” He coughed.
“Sir, really, you don’t look good,” Martin mentioned, “You should probably head back and let Dr. Largo look at you.”
“Oh, that’s funny, kid, “ Cecile wheezed, “I have a feeling Ray Charles isn’t going to be able to look at anyone for a quite a while.”
Then John snatched up an arrow, and in one fluid motion, turned, aimed and fired. The arrow snagged a bit of Cecil’s hair and slammed into the tree three inches from his face. The old man grabbed the side of his head, feeling the small trickle of blood. “YOU CRAZY SON OF A BITCH!” he screamed, “What do you think you’re-“
“Listen up, Cecil,” John pointed his bow at him, “I won’t let you bad mouth Tony. You say one more word about him and I’ll show you how accurate I am.”
Cecil gritted his teeth at the archer. He tapped the side of head, feeling the bleeding had already stopped. “Now you got two choices, “ John ordered, “You either head back to the beach or you cowboy up and stay with us. Which is it?”
Cecil stared at John with complete hatred. He didn’t like being told what to do. But he didn’t back down from any man either. “Lead on, stud.” He whispered.
“Mia, do me a favor,” John asked, “Retrieve my arrow.”
John turned around and began walking. Natasha waited for a few seconds then followed. The young Lakota woman walked over and grabbed the arrow. She gritted her teeth slightly as she managed to pull the arrow out. She started walking with the others. Martin was in awe of what he just saw. It was hard to get over what he knew of John Riggs, the Olympian Archer. In that world, he was second best. Here on the island, he was the best he had ever seen. “Good thing he missed, huh?” Martin said, not turning around to Cecil.
Mia played with the arrow, looking back to Martin. “Something tells me . . .he didn’t miss.” She giggled.
“Hah, hah.” Cecil said sarcastically.
Mia ran up toward the front of the line, handing John his arrow back. The archer thanked her, while he placed the sharp plastic stick into his quiver. “Hopefully, I’ll find my own case and get my arrows to add to it.”
“How many do you have?” Mia asked.
“Eighteen,” John sighed, “But I would feel comfortable if I had more.”
“I’ll say. You’re one hell of a shot with that, John. It’s hard to believe you are a silver medalist.”
“There is a story behind that, actually,” John laughed.
“Really? I’d love to hear it.”
“Tell you, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll tell you the story about why I became a silver medalist if you tell me why a Native American girl wound up in Australia.”
“Deal.” She giggled.
Natasha bent her eyebrows inward as she watched the two of them. Who the hell did this little minx think she was, she thought. What purpose could it serve her to cozy up to John? Even though Natasha enjoyed competition, she had to move soon if she was going to get on John’s good side. Her thoughts were interrupted as John stopped the line. He held his arm out, stopping Mia. Martin and Cecil stopped too. “John, what is going on?” Mia asked.
“Shhh,” he silenced her, then looked at her, “ Do you smell that?”
Mia took a whiff and immediately gagged. Natasha caught the smell too. “Smells like something died.” She coughed.
John pulled out an arrow and cocked it back in his compound bow. He slowly advanced through the dense jungle. The others stayed behind him, ready for anything. John moved more branches out of the way. Then the source of the smell appeared right before him.
It was the polar bear.
The giant beast was not moving, and judging by the smell plus the swarming flies, it looked like he died some time ago. Everybody held their noses as they approached. John walked over to the head of the bear. It’s mouth was gaping open, with small bugs coming out of it. What the archer noticed as the mouth was filled with blood, even somewhat leaked into the ground. Then he walked over to where his arrows were, sticking in the side of the beast. He wasn’t able to see where he was hitting him on the beach but at that moment he could. “I must have punctured a lung,” he said aloud, “The bear did die from his wounds but only internal.”
“Big sucker still needed to breathe.” Martin mentioned.
“Sorry about that, Mr. Bear,” John grunted, yanking out his arrows, “But it was either you or McKay, and the Australian we needed.”
The group didn’t say anything to John’s comments but Mia enjoyed them. It reminded her of her people and their ancestors. How they would hunt buffalo but yet give them praise and even apology to them for taking their lives. John bothering to apology to the dead bear meant he knew it wasn’t evil but he knew he had to kill it to protect the others. The young Lakota was starting to see how interesting a man the archer really was.
John placed the two arrows back into the quiver. Now he was up to 20 arrows. He motioned for the others to follow him, realizing their was nothing left here for them to do. The polar bear might have been edible but McKay was the only one with a blade.
The group continued their journey into the valley up ahead.
posted by Jason | 6:17 AM
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