Page 3 of Monstrous Heat
At least it was way cooler than the daytime. Maybe too cool. Sweat chilled on my skin. I’d definitely be grateful for my cozy sleeping bag and tent. A change of clothes and hot cup of tea, and I’d feel way better.I just have to get there.
Grimly, I climbed to my feet and trudged ahead, scanning the ground constantly for pitfalls. The jungle howled and screeched like a living thing all on its own, adding to my jangled nerves. I’d never heard so many animal calls before. I tried to imagine what kind of animal would make those sounds but decided that I had too good of an imagination for that game.
A particularly loud screech made me jerk to a halt.What the hell…?
The jungle silenced around me, an eerie dearth of sound after the cacophony. A jaguar? It’d certainly sounded like a predator.
My hands started shaking. My legs tensed, prepared to run. Run where? I had no idea how far camp might be, and I didn’t have any hope of outrunning a big cat. It’d probably just lie in wait on a limb and jump on me as soon as I ran right underneath it.
I jerked the flashlight up and scanned the branches overhead. No big glowing eyes reflected back. As quietly as possible, I crept down the path. At least it was a little wider now, a real dirt path rather than a few hacked-up branches to mark the way. But maybe that was a bad thing. Maybe this was a game trail and that big cat was hungry. Of course, it’d hang out near a game trail or a water source.Shit.
Everything in me screamed to run, but my brain held on to reason against the panic flailing inside me. Running was bad. I didn’t know what was out there. I’d already fallen twice. If I got seriously injured while the guides were gone, I’d probably die waiting on them to find me.
Silence weighed heavier, a complete absence of sound that made my heart pound.
Something was out there. Following me. Or at least watching me. Something that scared all the other animals into silence.
The metallic screech roared through the night again, so loud and close that I couldn’t suppress the terrified squeak that escaped my mouth. I clamped my hands over my ears, nearly fumbling the flashlight. Crouched against a thick tree, I flicked off the light and pressed against the rough bark, trying to disappear. Or at least be as small as possible.
Predators hunt by smell so it won’t matter. It’ll still find me.
I wanted to smack that know-it-all voice inside my head.
Leaves rustled. A low whuffing snort. Maybe it was a wild boar. Was that better than a jaguar?
Something moved in the shadows. A sharp click, like the tap of a hammer.Tap, tap.
What the fuck is that?I strained to see anything that would give me a clue. Stay? Run? Scream?
Though running away really wasn’t my style.
I straightened from a crouch. My pulse thundered in my ears as I stepped out onto the trail. I squared my shoulders and lifted my head high. Better to appear as big as possible.
Thetap, tap, tapcame again, drawing my gaze to a thick, dark shadow about ten feet down the trail. Between me and camp. Of fucking course. Huge, too, and way too tall and wide to be a jaguar. Nothing moved, and it was too dark to be sure.
Maybe it’s a bushy tree. I’ll have a good laugh at myself for being so scared.
Firming my voice into the loudest, meanestI’m-only-the-professor’s-teaching-assistant-but-sit-your-ass-down-anywaytone I could muster, I yelled, “Get! Get out of here! Leave me alone!”
The low whuffing came again, a deep, roughhuff, huff, huff.Almost like a laugh. A dare.
Tipping my chin up, I marched down the path, refusing to look at the mysterious dark shape. It had to be a trick. An illusion that my terrified mind had created. No animal was that tall. The dark blob towered over my head. It had to be a tree all twisted up in vines. Or maybe some long-lost stelae, swallowed by the jungle. That was far more likely than a… giraffe.
Tap, tap, tap.
Despite my bravado, I jerked to a halt. So close. Stiffly, I held myself very still, straining all my senses. No other sound, but that smell. What was it? A kind of musky scent, not completely unpleasant but foreign and strange. It didn’t belong. Hairs prickled on my nape and goosebumps raced down my arms. I hadn’t smelled anything like that all day. A bear? No, it didn’t smell like fur. Besides, there were certainly no bears—or giraffes for that matter—in Guatemala.
A slight movement caught my eye. Something glittered on the ground, catching the fragile moonlight filtering down through the canopy. Black and sparkly, almost like a crystal. The Maya had used obsidian for some of their blades and ornaments. Despite my fear, my heart leaped with excitement. That would be an extremely interesting find, especially if it was an intact blade. It was big enough to be a knife, at least six inches long.
I started to bend down to pick it up. Then I noticed another one. Just like it. No, three.
And then the longest one moved.
Tap, tap, tap.
Claws. Black. Long. Certainly big enough to gut me like a fish. Or lop off my head with one powerful swipe.
I bolted. Blind with terror, I ran, pushing through the trees. Off the path. It didn’t matter where. I had to get away.
