For Kate
STEP 4
You stand on the banks of the murky water and stare at the opposite side. You have the strangest feeling that help lies across the river. At the very least, you seem to be heading north. If the plane was following the course you think it was, north or west would be the quickest way to find civilization and help. Either direction entails the crossing of this river. The vast Amazon Basin lies behind you to the southeast, if your instincts are correct. Retreat would only serve to lessen your chances. You look at the strong current of the river and consider your options. Swimming unaided is a risky proposition at best. You are a good swimmer, but hidden undertows could always be a factor. You can see floating branches and even entire trees that have been uprooted and sent downriver. If you can reach one of these, or even swim from one to another to make your way across, it will keep you from completely exhausting yourself. The danger of the current would still be present, but you would get a respite or two if you could reach it. You have almost convinced yourself when you stop abruptly. What if you’re wrong? What if the plane did not crash where you thought it did? What if there is a town or village, or at least a small group of people directly behind you? Why are you contemplating risking your life on an uncertain whim?
As if in answer, there is a rustling in the dense forest behind you. You can hear footsteps. Another person? Another pair of footsteps joins the first. You peer into the greenery until the figures emerge from the gloom. They are not human. Not remotely. Your jaw drops open as you watch the creatures step toward you. They are unafraid of you. Their mouths open slowly, revealing rows of sharp teeth. They are predators, and they are stalking you. They are dinosaurs.
The realization hits you like a freight train. It makes no sense, but they are real and they are closing in. You certainly don’t know about every species of animal and plant in the jungle, but you know a damn dinosaur when you see one. The closest animal lets out a low, menacing growl that shakes you out of your shock. The river. Your priorities have shifted again and you turn toward the water as the animal begins to charge. You swear you can feel its hot breath on the back of your neck as you sprint to the river, hurling yourself from the lip of the steep bank into a pool of water below. You surface, gasping for air, and look back at the large predator as its partner joins it at the water’s edge. They snarl at you, but do not follow. You are relieved that you don’t have to outswim them in the river, but the fact that they would not enter the water is not lost on you. You are not yet safe and sound.
You leave the calm water of the pool and venture into the river’s current. For a moment, it seems too strong and you fear that you will be sucked under. You are able at last to regain your composure and you watch for floating debris. You swim to intercept a floating log and rest for a few seconds. Your next target is a large tree, nearly halfway across the river. You swim with confidence now, and time your movements to miss the large mass of tangled roots in front and arrive at the wide trunk. You grab onto vines and bark that once stood several feet above the ground, but now rest on the water line. With some effort, you pull yourself onto the trunk. The floating tree shifts under your movement, but you keep your balance. You are reaching toward another vine to steady yourself when the vine retracts in a swift fluid motion. The small viper watches you with a steady, unblinking gaze with its head and neck in a standard strike pose. You draw back your hand slowly, not wanting to provoke it. You glance around, and find yourself amidst a group of eyelash vipers. These small snakes are venomous, but probably would not prove fatal to you unless you were bitten repeatedly. You are not reassured. Being bitten while balanced on a floating tree in a treacherous river sounds distinctly unpleasant, and you eye the surrounding river for alternatives. A noise downstream attracts your attention and you see strong rapids, rapidly approaching. Suddenly, there is no time. The large tree offers you a stable perch as you enter the rapids. A stable perch shared with venomous reptiles. There is a floating log some distance away, but it is considerably smaller and there is no guarantee that you could even reach it before the current takes you into the first of the rapids. It is time to choose, and time is of the essence…
You stand on the banks of the murky water and stare at the opposite side. You have the strangest feeling that help lies across the river. At the very least, you seem to be heading north. If the plane was following the course you think it was, north or west would be the quickest way to find civilization and help. Either direction entails the crossing of this river. The vast Amazon Basin lies behind you to the southeast, if your instincts are correct. Retreat would only serve to lessen your chances. You look at the strong current of the river and consider your options. Swimming unaided is a risky proposition at best. You are a good swimmer, but hidden undertows could always be a factor. You can see floating branches and even entire trees that have been uprooted and sent downriver. If you can reach one of these, or even swim from one to another to make your way across, it will keep you from completely exhausting yourself. The danger of the current would still be present, but you would get a respite or two if you could reach it. You have almost convinced yourself when you stop abruptly. What if you’re wrong? What if the plane did not crash where you thought it did? What if there is a town or village, or at least a small group of people directly behind you? Why are you contemplating risking your life on an uncertain whim?
As if in answer, there is a rustling in the dense forest behind you. You can hear footsteps. Another person? Another pair of footsteps joins the first. You peer into the greenery until the figures emerge from the gloom. They are not human. Not remotely. Your jaw drops open as you watch the creatures step toward you. They are unafraid of you. Their mouths open slowly, revealing rows of sharp teeth. They are predators, and they are stalking you. They are dinosaurs.
The realization hits you like a freight train. It makes no sense, but they are real and they are closing in. You certainly don’t know about every species of animal and plant in the jungle, but you know a damn dinosaur when you see one. The closest animal lets out a low, menacing growl that shakes you out of your shock. The river. Your priorities have shifted again and you turn toward the water as the animal begins to charge. You swear you can feel its hot breath on the back of your neck as you sprint to the river, hurling yourself from the lip of the steep bank into a pool of water below. You surface, gasping for air, and look back at the large predator as its partner joins it at the water’s edge. They snarl at you, but do not follow. You are relieved that you don’t have to outswim them in the river, but the fact that they would not enter the water is not lost on you. You are not yet safe and sound.
You leave the calm water of the pool and venture into the river’s current. For a moment, it seems too strong and you fear that you will be sucked under. You are able at last to regain your composure and you watch for floating debris. You swim to intercept a floating log and rest for a few seconds. Your next target is a large tree, nearly halfway across the river. You swim with confidence now, and time your movements to miss the large mass of tangled roots in front and arrive at the wide trunk. You grab onto vines and bark that once stood several feet above the ground, but now rest on the water line. With some effort, you pull yourself onto the trunk. The floating tree shifts under your movement, but you keep your balance. You are reaching toward another vine to steady yourself when the vine retracts in a swift fluid motion. The small viper watches you with a steady, unblinking gaze with its head and neck in a standard strike pose. You draw back your hand slowly, not wanting to provoke it. You glance around, and find yourself amidst a group of eyelash vipers. These small snakes are venomous, but probably would not prove fatal to you unless you were bitten repeatedly. You are not reassured. Being bitten while balanced on a floating tree in a treacherous river sounds distinctly unpleasant, and you eye the surrounding river for alternatives. A noise downstream attracts your attention and you see strong rapids, rapidly approaching. Suddenly, there is no time. The large tree offers you a stable perch as you enter the rapids. A stable perch shared with venomous reptiles. There is a floating log some distance away, but it is considerably smaller and there is no guarantee that you could even reach it before the current takes you into the first of the rapids. It is time to choose, and time is of the essence…