Page 11 of Fall
From my elevated heights in the treetops, I stare out at the wonder of the Amazon rainforest. Mocking shades of green stretch for hundreds of acres. Every varying shade and rich depth reminds me of his complex colored eyes with vicious hues of deception and natural tinged evergreen that suggest an awakening.
I’ve lost track of the strung-out hours. An extraordinary ring of gold burns around the setting sun, glowing amidst tiger slashes of bold orange and yellow. In any other situation, it would be a breathtaking scene worthy of photography. Tonight, however, it signifies the arrival of darkness. The advent of jeopardy. Time spent in the forest without a knowledgeable guide.
When the blazing sphere of fire switches places with the giant moon, the temperature cools. It’s only a few degrees lower, but my teeth chatter and goosebumps sprinkle my forearms. I’m overcome with haunting flashbacks of the afternoon’s events. Dante executed a guest without flinching. He projected eerie calmness void of remorse. His seething anger switched to indifference in the glaring flash of lightning. A raging pyre of emotions quickly shrank beneath a powdery snowdrift, and his edginess easily morphed to a ghostly composer. Dante retreated into el Fantasma, sinking deeper, accepting his alternative persona as the rightful ruler.
I desperately want to be free. This prison sentence screams of torment. It stinks of a decision far worse than a quick death. Glancing to the four corners in turn, I traipse to the unsecured locker, hoping to find a walkie-talkie or radio device to contact Sal. He wouldn’t want this either. I’m sure of it.
Inside, I’m rewarded with a flashlight, bulky camo jacket and a hunter's knife sheathed in a case. Nothing else. It’s not rations or a protective blanket. But it’s better than false hope.
Although the hand crafted tower is merely wood and bolts, it's still shelter from the weather. Another jail. This one being held on stilts and severely lacking in amenities.
Aged boards groan when I wander from edge to edge. I continue to pace while cursing both myself and the man who refused to let me speak. The rustling leaves hear every muttered word of hateful truths that should singe my tongue. An unforgiving temper builds inside my chest, replacing all the fanciful ideas of a bewitching savage in the wild who tamed his demons for a foreigner. Fresh sparks of anger kindle to roaring flames, leaving my pathetic heart to smolder in the embers of that laughable fantasy. Even though it aches in the ashes, my wounded heart doesn't send out smoke signals for help. Instead, it hardens and beats for war. All the bruises on my body throb with the reality of this scenario.
We were never compatible.
He’ll never accept me as an equal.
The rage of that epiphany siphons disgust into my hissing veins. Dante spared my life, yet it doesn’t mean I should be thankful for falling blindly into remoteness. I’m not naive.
Uncontrollable shivers rattle my achy bones until I dress in the puffy jacket and snuggle into it for comfort. Staring up at the star scattered sky, I wonder if this is merely a stopgap and not meant as my final destination. Perhaps it’s a waiting room for the meanest of outcomes, or simply a confined space where I’ll starve and wilt in solitude.
My parched skin craves hydration, and the knots in my belly feel tight and sickly. If I was blessed with food to eat, I’d happily devour it, but I’m certain the waves of acid would quickly turn violent and make it come back up.
Tatty locks drape on either side of my face like the closing curtain call. Fight or flight instincts buzz in my weary muscles, and I second guess if I have the energy to withstand a night outdoors.
A distant mechanical roar competes with rotary blades. Looking up, I focus on the dusky skyline with sniper vision. The blinking red light declares an uncertain fate as a helicopter ascends.
It’s him. He’s coming back to end this nightmare once and for all.
Panic tingles through my hands. I tuck my curls flat to my spine beneath the jacket, then stuff the knife under the waistband of my trousers so the leather case is close to my hip bone. Hunkering down, I quickly scan the floorboards with a thin beam from the flashlight. Close to the farthest corner a circular hole is visible in one of the planks. Carefully inserting two fingers and hauling upwards, the trap door creaks open to reveal a rope ladder spilling to the understory.
The helicopter motor whirs overhead. My pulse catches fire, and without a second thought, I drop to the top rung. It wobbles and shakes under my weight. Weeks of employment and healthy food have shed a few pounds from my waistline, and even still the ladder feels as though it could give way.
With fear biting my heels, the momentum of escaping my incarceration without a fair trial is at an all-time high. I abandon the upper tier and lower to the middle layers. The air changes. Thicker. Warmer. Pungent. It doesn’t stop me. I’d rather flee than be a victim. Rope ties rub against the broad tree trunk that stops the ladder from swaying out of control.
If only he’d listened.
If only Dante believed in the fierce affinity we fused from a rare predicament. We both knew the earth shifted at first sight. We both heard the forest whisper around us, casting a spell that spun moonlight into connecting strands. Tragedy crisscrossed our destiny, twisting together a web of seduction and unbridled lust. A young woman from Scotland found an older hero from Brazil. A paradoxical man discovered a simple reason for happiness and chose not to accept it. Our very different worlds collided with an epic explosion. Reciprocated hatred bled into unruly gluttony.
Now, none of that matters one iota because I’ll never willingly return to his Oasis. I’ll fight for my freedom, and if our paths clash one last time, I’ll tell him the truth. That he’s the one who can’t be trusted. He’s the wretched soul undeserving ofmyallegiance.
Decaying leaves soften my landing. The soles of my boots hit the mulch. I tilt my head back to pinpoint the hovering helicopter directly over the platform. I can’t be certain it’s him jumping from the aircraft onto the platform, and I won’t hang around to find out.
Once they’ve noticed that I’ve entered the jungle, they’ll fly back to Dante’s pious kingdom. He won't come back to forage in the forest for a woman lost in a hostile landscape. El Fantasma will erase the echo of my heartbeat from his memory and carry on being heartless.
If I stay hidden and take refuge under the foliage, whoever is chasing me will never suspect I’m lurking close by. I’ll hang out down here until he’s bored with his power trip.
Every mature tree resembles the next. It’s a treacherous maze with hundreds of miles between me and the local town. At nightfall, I’d be crazy to find civilization, but tomorrow… that’s when I’ll head for the river.
Creaks and scrapes bring my gaze to the wobbly ladder streaming to the earth from above. “IRIS!” The familiar masculine voice booms from the upper canopy, irritating the species preparing for slumber. A shiver skitters down my spine. My heart rate falters.
It’s him.
He must be hunting me for sport.
My soles crush saplings as I bob beneath interspersed long-stemmed woody vines, keeping a steady pace, given the uneven surface. A gap of light brings in a faint beam of silver, barely guiding the way. Tiredness battles with the adrenaline pumping in my veins. If I continue to run from him, there’s no doubt I’ll lose my way, and then I’ll never make it back to the lookout tower. For a fleeting second, I gather my breath by a monstrous hardwood tree. Crouching into brace position, I drag the hood over my head to conceal flyaway hair strands and my pale complexion.
The wheeze of my hot breath magnifies in the lull. A flicker of torchlight carries through the undergrowth like a radar. Frail branches crack into smithereens under his heavy footing.
