Jade Moon (Celestial War Book 1) (14 page)

The Jungle

I planned to hitchhike back to San Ignacio and reverse my route back to Belize City, but this time I was buying a freaking car, then, hell, I might just buy a plane when I got to the airport. And a pilot. Could I do that?

San Pedro was still smoldering, but all was quiet. Beginning up the path toward the road, I heard a noise. I shrunk into the shadows as it approached.

At first I couldn’t make it out, but a voice quickly became clear. “Ouch, son of a…god damned thorns…ouch..ouch.”

I stopped forward. “Raf?”

He stumbled into view. “Oh, thank god.”

“Raf, we’re not even three miles from the road. When did all this happen?” I gestured to his entire body.

Streaks of blood trickled from scratches on his cheek. Sweat soaked his clothes head to toe. One doc martin was split open along its side. His bare arms were covered with red welts. The pointer finger on his left hand was swollen like a sausage. Blood soaked the cuff of his left leg.

“Harper, this place is trying to kill me! You didn’t tell me it was alive!”

His wild-eyes, purple hair, and the fact that he was wearing doc martins in the jungle was too much. My entire body shook and I tried to keep it in, but the laughter burst forth like a tidal wave from my lips. I fell to my knees and laughed until I was eventually crying and hiccuping with giggles.

Raf knelt next to me, watching at first, a little pissed off at my reaction. “Hey,” he said, “I even stole my dad’s pistol to come help you!” He patted a vague gun shape under his soaked t-shirt.  My laughing went on so long he eventually smiled, then began laughing as well. Together we laughed and cried until we had nothing left.

Catching his breath, Raf shook my arm. “Stop…stop laughing, Harper. This is serious. My mom’s almost here. Barely beat her. We need to run.”

His words slammed my laughter off like a vault door.

“Listen. I heard her talking about you. She’s on a rampage, talking about slaughtering everyone, including you. I…I couldn’t let her kill you, or a whole village of people.”

“I’m really sorry Raf. I’m sorry I wasn’t more supportive. I can’t imagine…” I trailed off, unsure what to say.

“No, I’m sorry. You were right about her. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

It is impossible to remain in a heightened state of panic for hours at a time. The constant worry about my mom, the fear and anger toward Selene, had almost become background noise. But Raf’s arrival pushed me to a whole new level of panic. If Selene was hot on our tail, how would we get away? She could just take the disk from me here, how could I possibly stop her? We needed to get back and I needed to figure out a plan to save my mom.

The answer came to me in a flash and I literally face palmed. Abe’s plane!

As the crow flies, the Mennonite village was actually the closest settlement to San Pedro. A barely used path ran almost directly there, less that two miles away.

“This way Raf, I have a plan!”

Above the droning cicada song, we heard shouts and people crashing toward us.

Grabbing his arm, I dragged Raf into the underbrush. He stayed close on my heels as I pulled out my machete. The brush was too thick to move through and we needed to head east where we would eventually cross the path to the Mennonite village. In Belize, children are handed a machete as soon as they can walk. Though I didn’t start until I was six, over the years I had learned to think of a machete as an extension of my own arm.    

Flicking my wrist left and right, I easily carved us a path that I hoped wouldn’t be too obvious. Selene and her thugs passed where we turned off.

“Think we’ve lost them but not for long.”

“I think they have dogs!” Raf was right. An animal bayed right at the entrance to our escape route.

“Not dogs. Wolves!” I couldn’t believe it. Selene was going to hunt us like animals.

We broke free of the underbrush onto the path to Stan Creek just as it began to descend the drop off called Devil’s Toe. Running in a panic, I tripped over my own feet and crashed to my knees. The side of Devil’s Toe was nothing but loose gravelly rocks. I was going fast enough when I fell that I skidded down the hillside on my knees. Raf managed to stay on his feet but was crashing out of control behind me.

We hit the bottom in a heap and helped each other up. I momentarily noted that, even after sliding over sharp rocks all the way down a hill, my leather knee patches were in perfect shape. Not a tear in sight. “Good pants!” I muttered to myself as we continues our wild sprint toward the Mennonites.

The wolves were too fast. I glanced over my shoulder to see them closing in. Selene’s silver wolves were going to catch us, tear us to shreds.

We had to escape the only direction they couldn’t follow, up into the treetops. To our right hung a tangle of water vines. Thick and sturdy, water vines are what most Americans picture Tarzan swinging from. I stabbed my finger upward. Raf nodded and we began to climb.

The vines crept up a massive Cebia tree that leaned gently toward a limestone outcropping jutting up from the ground. We scrambled up into the canopy. The tree branches criss-crossed in the air under the lush green roof arcing above them. Among the boughs of the tall trees, we moved from tree to tree, balancing on thick limbs.

The wolves leapt against the tree trunks in a frenzy because they couldn’t continue their pursuit.

Crawling among the branches, we leapt from tree to tree and eventually reached the low cliff. We were about to jump when a soft chuff chuff sound made me freeze.

The barking wolves was a scary sound, but that chuff was something few survived to describe.

Seeing my pale face, Raf froze next to me. “What?”

I was afraid to speak, but Raf followed my eyes to the jaguar laying on a branch less than five feet from us. Golden eyes stared into mine like lambent suns. Her fur was solid black, shining in the moonlight. Head larger than my torso, paws the size of my head, claws extended, carving grooves in the tree she grasped like a toy.

She crouched, agitated by our appearance, made worse by the wolves frantic baying. Then I noticed the cub asleep in the nook of the tree behind her. Great, a mama jaguar. The most dangerous kind.

“No…sudden…moves…” I said under my breath. “No eye contact.”

Raf looked down at the ground, sweat pouring forth from his forehead like a mini-waterfall.

“Slowly, slowly,” I said as I tried to move in a gentle motion toward the cliff just below us.

I saw Raf reach for the pistol in his belt and I shook my head no once. He lowered his hand and climbed downward.

Uncertain of our intentions the jaguar sat perfectly still, a low, threatening growl rumbling from her chest.

Raf followed my lead, his body moving like flowing water.

I, on the other hand, bobbled on an unsteady branch. To prevent myself from falling, I flung out my arms with a sharp grunt. The jaguar jumped, assuming I was attacking. Before I even caught myself, she attacked. Her paw struck my arm as though it momentarily transformed into lightening itself. Claws sliced through flesh and muscle. The force of her single swipe tossed me into the air like a rag doll.

As quickly as she flashed forward, she retreated to her cub in a protective crouch. I spun around a few times as I felt to the cliff. Wisely, Raf moved slow but steady down after me. From the leaf-littered ground, we both looked back up to see if an angry she-jaguar was descending upon us. Instead she leapt down to the base of the tree. She was so big her landing made the ground shake with a thump.  Hackles up, tail flicking the air, she spat and hissed but did not attack again.

“She’s afraid we’re too big, but she’ll attack once she decides we are easy prey.” I hissed.

Raf was hyper ventilating, little eeeps escaping with every breath out, but he nodded and helped me up. Together, we began to back out of the small clearing just as two wolves broke through the underbrush.

The jaguar spun to face the new threat. Unable to stop themselves in time, the wolves slammed into the jaguar. She rose up on her hind legs, standing taller than Raf, and threw herself onto the snarling wolves. Two wolves and the jaguar tumbled to the ground in a blur of flying fur and blood.

“Run!” Raf broke me out of my stupor, probably shock at my injuries coupled with awe at the sight of such magnificent beasts locked in battle. At least they would keep each other busy.

We ran for almost an hour before I began to feel light headed. Deep night fell as we fled into the jungle.

“Your arm.” Raf pointed to the blood dripping off the tips of my fingers. I hadn’t even noticed. The sight of my own blood made my vision swim. I was in full shock.

“We need to stop the bleeding.” Raf pulled my bag off my shoulder and rifled through it, probably looking for a first aid kit. What a smart thing that would have been to buy. Oops.

“Ants,” I croaked.

“Ants?”

I pointed to the roots of a tree. Along the sinuous roots, gold-butted ants marched in a straight line. “Grab one from the head, don’t crush it.

Looking at me like I was totally insane, Raf did as told.

“Ouch!”

“Avoid the pinchers…”

“Yeah, yeah.” He tried again and triumphantly handed me a writhing ant snapping its pinchers again and again, chitinous daggers clacking against each other.

“Now hold this together.” I pointed to the separated flesh on either side of the single slice that ran across my bicep. Again, Raf cringed but did it. He stretched the sides of my wound together. I whimpered involuntarily but thrust the ant against my skin. Finally finding purchase on something, it clamped its pincher down, clamping the two sides together. Once it had the right hold, I squeezed and twisted off its head, permanently clamping its pinchers on my wound.

“Need a few more.”

Raf gathered five more ants and I used them to stitch together my arm. I thought to myself, hey that wasn’t so bad, and then I vomited all over the jungle floor.

We sat among the tall roots. The jungle’s night song so loud I was able to push away my own cloudy thoughts just to listen.

“Harper!”

I jolted awake. I’d been drifting into unconscious.    

“Let’s keep moving.”

We clung to each other the rest of the way to the Mennonite village, no sounds of pursuit behind us. We crossed the perfectly straight dividing line from wild jungle to manicured farmstead in the pre-dawn light. 

***

The wide, wooden front porch was slightly warped by age, but the farmhouse we approached was simple and well made. Inches from the front door, it swung open where we were greeted by the business end of a shotgun.

“I help you folks?” the slightly German accent made the question seem quite threatening.   

A grizzled, middle-aged man squinted at us, his overalls crisp atop a starched baby blue button up. Long blond curls and thick wiry beard framed a scowl and suspicious deep blue eyes.

“Abe you goat, get that gun out of Harper’s face.”

Hilde, his stout wife, pushed Abe aside and stood with her hands on her hips. “I’m sorry dumpling, he doesn’t have his glasses on.” A flour smudge on one cheek explained the smell of fresh bread that wafted around her. My stomach growled loudly as the woman looked us slowly up and down.

“Harper Dae, you look a mess. You have time for some food?’

“I wish we did. But I need to borrow Veronica.”

Abe huffed disapproval but seemed interested. “An emergency?”

“Someone burned San Pedro and are after us. We need a ride out of here.”

He nodded sagely. “Well, let’s go!”

Hilde grunted and went to the kitchen where I knew she was throwing together a sack of food for the flight.

We followed Abe’s slow, limping gait out to the faded blue barn. He pulled open the wide door and beamed at Raf. “Behold Veronica.”

We beheld. Veronica was an antique plane, covered in cobwebs and dust. One tire was flat, part of a wing was held on with duct tape, a bungie cord wrapped around the tail.

“Let me pump up her tires and we’re off.”

Raf balked, “No way. That doesn’t look like it could drive to Belize City let alone fly all the way to Virginia.”

Abe shrugged. “Looks can be deceiving, boy. Up to you.”

“When was this plane even built?” Raf asked.

“She’s a mint condition 1946 Aeronca Champion.”

“Mint condition...” Raf tried to smile but it looked more like a lopsided grimace. “I guess we don’t have much choice.”

“S’right” Abe said as he brought out a hand pump and starting huffing as he inflated the lopsided tire, the sun rising slowing above the horizon.

“We’ve got some really bad people after us, Abe. You taught me well, I can fly her to DC and I promise to bring her back in one piece.”

“Don’t be a fool, Harper. You’re pale as a ghost and shaking like a leaf. You won’t be flying anywhere. Anyway, you know Hilde almost never lets me fly.” He chucked Raf on the shoulder so hard Raf winced. “Jump in, lad.”

I didn’t even bother to argue.

We pushed the plane out to a flat stretch of grass that Abe called the ‘runway.’ Other than the pilot seat, the rest of the interior was stripped bare excepting a sad piece of rope tied to a bolt in the floor. I remembered this all from the night mom and I fled Belize. For Raf it was all new.

“If it makes you feel better, we made it all the way there last time.” I tried to reassure him.

“Squeeze in and grab on, here we go!” Abe said.

He turned the key....nothing. Again, nothing. On the third try, the engine roared to life with a pop and a belch of black smoke.

Raf grabbed onto the rope and sunk down until he couldn’t see out the window. I jammed myself sideways next to Abe and grabbed the rope with both hands.

As we taxied over the grass, a flap on the front of the plane peeled off.

“Don’t matter,” Abe shrugged.

 A small bubble of laughter escaped my lips as Abe gunned it.

The plane bounced wildly down the rutted runway.

As the wheels lifted off, Abe belted a wild, “Wooohoooooo!” The gruff, silent man replaced by an excited little boy.