Feel Me Fall by James Morris

Author:James Morris [Morris, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Inkspot Imaginarium
Published: 2017-05-01T23:00:00+00:00

We searched for another ten minutes when we heard screams. Ryan’s voice pierced through the jungle, much worse than when he was bitten by ants. They weren’t screams of pain or frustration; they were something else. They were the screams before falling into the abyss.

Derek burst ahead of me.

I followed and ran back through the tangled vines, seemingly lost in a dark fairy tale.

I emerged into the clearing where we’d built our bamboo beds. Ryan’s screams filled the air, and along with it, a curious fast rustling. Viv, Nico, Molly and Derek had beaten me there and stood in a semi-circle far on the outskirts. All I saw were their backs. Whatever they were watching had frozen them in place.

“What’s wrong?” I yelled, but they didn’t turn. Didn’t speak. Didn’t move.

With tentative steps, I approached them in my own personal horror film, fearful of what I would find, and when I did, I understood.

A blur of black, a flash of white, and Ryan on the ground.

A wild boar charged Ryan. The boar moved like thunder, a hideous creature of black bristled hair and tusks. It had gored Ryan, lifting him off the bamboo bed and dropped him on the flat surface. Ryan screamed, his mouth releasing a horrible sound, a note of despair and fear, that for all his challenges, this beast next to him was one he could not overcome.

He was alone. A gladiator of one.

His chest bled from the wounds, flaccid flesh surrounding leaking holes.

He lay, tired and shocked, but not defeated. I saw his mouth move, and imagined him saying, “Help me.” He began crawling—crawling towards us. As he did, the semi-circle moved away.

I was paralyzed with fear. Any second, the creature could attack us. But Ryan was the easier prey.

The boar charged, and Ryan tried to dodge it, splaying flat and eating mud, but the boar raked his tusks into the ground. The tusks caught Ryan in the back, impaling him. Ryan’s body went rigid. Red spilled onto the white ivory and the beast lifted Ryan like he was nothing at all, like a terrier shaking a toy.

I couldn’t look any longer.

I couldn’t look at my friends doing nothing.

I picked up a piece of broken bamboo and ran at the boar. “No!” I yelled and swung the bamboo over the boar’s head. With a hollow thud, it bounced harmlessly off.

The boar faced me, its eyes little slits, releasing angry, guttural growls.

How I hated that creature.

I took the bamboo pole with the V-groove, using it like a spear, and I charged.

Damn this jungle, I thought. Damn this death.

The bamboo hit the pig, and the laws of physics played themselves on in that clearing, where its weight held it steady, but launched me to the side, and I fell into the mud. The boar’s thick hide had protected it.

But I had certainly pissed it off.

It bared its mouth, releasing a breath of foul air.

Fear gave way to survival. I grabbed the bamboo and thrust at its face, again and again.

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