by Dan Decker
Even though I had barely used my other supplies, I just could not imagine traipsing through the jungle without things like a rope, lighter, and other essential gear. My machete was momentarily stowed inside my bag because I was tired of cleaning off the rainwater, I would pull it out after the storm.
I had probably dropped ten pounds in the last two months and was on track to go another five. I did not mind the weight loss, but I was ready to go home.
Just three more weeks until I return to airconditioned labs. I never have to see the jungle again.
This internship was the last requirement before graduation. I would be working full time for Genizyz shortly after that.
It doesn’t matter where I go, I will always find people like Sharon.
While Sharon was something of an optimist, always positive that just around the corner we were going to discover a new species, she was also opportunistic, clinging to every scrap of control she could. She was desperately trying to make a name for herself by bringing back a substantial find.
Something Genizyz could exploit for profit.
I did not care as long as I graduated.
I thought it unlikely we would return with a commercially viable discovery. Sharon had high hopes that a new species of miniature moth we had found was going to secure funding to return to this section of the rainforest but I doubted it. The moth had no unique properties and was plain ugly.
We needed something that sizzled with possibility.
“I think you’re Sharon’s favorite,” Sandy said from behind. I did not need to look back to see her smirk because it was evident from her tone. She had been teasing me about Sharon more frequently because she could tell it got under my skin. I suspected she did this to subtly convey she was not interested.
“Don’t tell the others,” I said in a conspiratorial voice, “but we have been hooking up when nobody is around.” I just played along rather than let it disturb me. “She wants to make Bill jealous.”
Sandy’s laugh was muffled by the rain. “At least there is something you like about this trip. A little late-night action is enough to cheer anybody up.”
“If only,” I muttered under my breath.
I stepped in a mud puddle and sank up to my ankle.
“Great,” I said, pulling my foot out of the squelching mud while wondering what new and interesting creature I would find on my foot the next time we stopped for a break.
Maybe it will be a slug nobody has discovered. I will let Sharon claim credit and we can call it the Sharon Slug.
“You’re supposed to step over,” Sandy said lightly as she hopped across the same spot. “At least you don’t have a severe cut on your leg.”
I stamped my boot and did not respond.
We hiked until noon, the energetic and enigmatic Sharon leading the way, forcing herself to stop every so often to wait for the rest of us to catch up. Once we did she was off again after only a minute or two, practically running as if to make up for the lost time dealing with Erik’s wound.
“Is it wrong to hope a jaguar mistakes her for a deer?” I whispered to Sandy at the next stop after Sharon had left us behind again. That earned a punch that stung, but it was, however, mitigated by a smile that crept up her face.
“Say that louder,” Sandy said, “I dare you.”
I shook my head as I gulped down some water and tore the plastic from a sausage. It was sopping wet by the time I took my first bite.
We did not rest long, Sharon had long since disappeared down the path.
Come and get it guys, I thought, hoping a jaguar hunted nearby.
A normal person might have moved slower in the rain, but Sharon seemed to increase her speed.
When the rain finally let up shortly after one in the afternoon, it felt like the only dry part of me was a tiny spot on the small of my back. The rain had leaked in through my open hood and down my shirt. The poncho made my temperature increase until I felt like I was walking through a muggy greenhouse.
“Time for a break slow pokes,” Sharon said when we caught up to her. She wore a smile that betrayed an enthusiasm I doubted I would ever feel about anything.
I took off my poncho and set my pack down on a rock to keep it from getting muddy. The pack itself was water repellent but it would not have held up to the downpour we had just waded through.
My poncho was drenched and my pantlegs were caked with mud to my knee and wet to my thigh. Sandy stopped beside me and leaned her pack against my own.
“Did you ever think it would be this muddy?”
I grunted and shook off my poncho as best I could before rolling it up and strapping it to my pack. After that I swapped out my socks, putting the wet ones in a plastic bag before stuffing them back in my pack.
“It’s funny,” Sandy said from beside me while doing the same. “I never appreciated dry socks before, it’s the little things, you know?”
I nodded. “If only I did not have to put them right back into muddy boots.”
“All right, people. Ready?” Sharon was as buoyant and bouncy as ever. She had also changed into a dry top that seemed to act as a catalyst. I would have thought a fifty-year-old woman would have had less energy than me, but she gave most of us who were half her age a run for our money.
“Come on guys,” Sharon said, “pick up those feet! We are almost there.”
I held out a hand and pointed up the hill while looking at Sandy. “After you.”
The members of our group seemed revitalized by the rest and we made better time. The sun occasionally poked through the dark canopy above but even though it was early afternoon I doubted we would make it back to our basecamp by dark.
A movement drew my eye, but when I looked it was gone, the bush shook at the creature’s passing.
“Did you see that?” Sandy asked excitedly.
“No.”
“It looked like a lizard, a large one.”
She smiled when I looked at her, letting me know she was making fun of Sharon and our current expedition.
Half an hour later we were at the top of a hill and there was a rare opening in the undergrowth that allowed me to see a green valley below.
It was majestic.
I forgot my wet clothes, my muddy shoes, and took in the vista. It was only enhanced when Sandy glanced back.
As I followed I noticed something from the corner of my eye but when I looked there was nothing there. Not even moving branches this time.
“The rain is giving me hallucinations,” I muttered. The temperature of the valley dropped several degrees as we descended. I welcomed the change but it also felt cold.
“Step lightly,” Sandy said.
I saw what she meant a moment later.
A dead anteater lay in the path, ravaged by many different mouths. Its glassy eyed stare and torn abdomen made me look around, afraid there might really be a jaguar in the area.
Would one hunt a human? I wondered, looking into the wide expanse of green and thinking of what I had seen disappearing earlier.
I studied the anteater and wondered when it had died. The creatures of the rainforest were good about helping along the decomposition so it could not have been long.
What’s that on its legs?
I stooped to examine the carcass. Most of what I had first taken as bites turned out to be sores. They were bleeding, oozing sores.
I stepped back from the animal and caught up to the others, hoping that whatever had made the animal sick could not transfer to humans. A few minutes later we stopped in a clearing I recognized as manmade.
We had arrived at our destination.
“Form teams of two,” Sharon said, “and spread out.”
I only payed attention with half an ear as I pulled out a dry shirt and swapped it for the wet one. A breeze touched my bare skin, making me want to shiver, but it was an urge I suppressed. The dry cotton felt good and I was glad to be half as wet as before.
“Vince,” Sharon said to me, “you stay with Sandy to
watch the gear.”
I nodded. It was no surprise, Sharon didn’t think much of my field skills, but neither did I. Sandy did not look happy but managed a tiny smile to show that it was not being saddled with me that made her disgruntled.
As the others disappeared I pulled out a small folding stool from my pack and set it out, motioning for Sandy to sit. I would not have done this for anybody else.
I pulled out my poncho and plopped on the ground before she had a chance to protest. Her ears were a smidge red as she sat but she mumbled a thank you.
We waited in silence with our notebooks. Once I was certain Sharon and the others were gone, I took out a novel. Sandy started to work in her book, I knew from past experience she was either writing her thoughts or making a sketch.
She was not much of an artist but was better than me.
A rustling sound on the edge of the clearing drew our attention.
A small lizard emerged.
It cocked its head to the side and chirped. I had never seen anything like it except in a museum.
It appeared to be a living dinosaur.
4
It was shorter than a foot and walked on hindlegs, though that was not the only thing that reminded me of a dinosaur. Another strange thing was that it had four nostrils. When I saw that it had one claw in front that was much larger and longer than the others, my first thought was this could be the creature that harmed Erik, but that had been several miles away and it was too small.
Unless it has a big brother.
Sandy muttered a curse. My insides churned while I studied the little guy as I slowly came up to a squat.
Sharon hadn’t told us much about the lizard she was looking for, other than that it was bigger than most. I had not imagined anything larger than an iguana, this was far smaller and differently proportioned. I initially doubted the specimen in front of us was her quarry but as it moved, I started to wonder if this was just a baby.
I looked over my shoulder just to make sure a larger version was not coming at us from another way. The lizard cocked its head, blinked, and took several steps in our direction while not showing the slightest hesitation.
Sandy slowly moved up her pad of paper. I got the idea she was planning to make a drawing.
I’ll do better than that.
I pulled out my cell phone—it was useless for communication here—but worked well as a camera and I made sure to charge it when the generator was on. I opened my phone by tapping the screen, brought up my camera app, and hit the video button.
The lizard hopped, reminding me of a bird.
I held still, torn between watching and making certain I got it all on camera.
Walking on its hindlegs had certainly gotten my attention. The four nostrils made me sure we had discovered a new species. I glanced at Sandy who grinned like a kid at Christmas.
I smiled in return.
The others were going to be jealous we had made such a significant discovery while watching their gear.
It all of the sudden became worth it.
The long days trudging through the humidity, mud, and rain. The nights where I felt like I was being eaten alive by mosquitoes while trying to sleep, even after spraying myself generously with bug spray and hiding underneath a mosquito net.
Our names are going down in history. This will make Sharon mad with jealousy. I chuckled quietly, checking to make sure my camera was still going.
Then the strangest thing happened.
A baby capybara wandered out of the bushes, stumbling as if drunk. It was followed by two more. These also moved in the same manner, walking as if every step were difficult and they were in danger of toppling over. I had only seen the animals a few others times but they typically moved with an energetic bounce.
These seemed like the walking dead.
“Ah, cute.” Sandy stopped drawing and just soaked in the moment with the largest smile I had ever seen on her face.
I was no longer as enamored.
Something struck me as off. The baby capybaras should not have been walking like that. The lizard did not even look back at the other animals, never mind the fact they were more than double its size.
The capybaras were likewise not concerned about the lizard.
“They are together,” I whispered as the realization dawned on me even though it seemed impossible.
“What?” Sandy muttered from the side of her mouth.
I did not answer. It was a crazy hypothesis and even though I did not have real evidence something in my gut told me I was correct. The creatures moved as a herd. The lizard and capybaras were together.
A capybara took a step forward and almost toppled over, its ears flicking as it caught itself at the last moment.
“Hold on,” I said looking up from the camera and examining the face of the closest rodent. It had a sore on its face similar to the dead anteater. I studied the lizard but saw no sign of disease.
It was one thing for a small lizard to approach us, like a squirrel looking for a handout, but three baby capybaras? All without fear? We were too far from civilization for any of these creatures to be domesticated.
“This is not good.”
“Hush,” Sandy said as she started to draw again.
The lizard made a chittering sound and the capybaras came closer.
A chill ran down my spine.
It looked like the lizard had given them an order that they had obeyed. Impossible, sure, but that was what it looked like.
I stood, expecting my sudden move would scatter the animals but they did not react. I focused on the eyes of the capybaras.
Something was off there too.
I could tell this even though I had little experience with them. For lack of a better comparison, they reminded me of the dead anteater’s eyes.
Why?
The capybaras were past the lizard.
“Sandy, we need to move. Now.”
“It’s okay. They’re not used to seeing humans.”
“I don’t think that’s it at all. They should be afraid, yet they are fearless. Look at their eyes.”
Sandy shook her head and kept drawing.
I feigned an attack on the closest capybara, acting like I was going to kick it, but it did not even blink.
I was certain, more certain than I had been about anything. These creatures were not acting normal. The lizard looked at me, cocked its head and chittered again. The capybaras came my direction. The baby rodents were half the size of an adult but considering their abnormal behavior, it was difficult to not feel panic rising in my chest even though they were small.
I grabbed Sandy’s arm. “We have to go.”
“When was the last time you heard of a capybara attacking somebody?”
“Something is very wrong about all this.”
She shrugged off my hand.
I stepped back, uncomfortable at how close the animals had come. As I shuffled into the jungle the capybaras followed me, ignoring Sandy who unconcernedly drew the lizard, seemingly oblivious to what was happening with the rodents.
Giving up on convincing Sandy that we were in—
It did not feel like danger, at least not yet.
It felt more like a situation.
The capybaras still came after me, their feet moving as if they were liable to trip.
I stopped backing away, turned, and walked straight, looking over my shoulder to make sure Sandy was fine before disappearing into the foliage. They moved right past without looking at her. I spun and charged to within a foot of the plodding animals but they did not react, not even when I threatened to kick them again.
Not a one blinked.
They lacked instincts. They kept coming when they should have scattered.
As I walked back into the undergrowth my heartrate increased. I suspected they would attack if they got close. After I led them into the jungle, I gave them a wide berth and returned to Sandy, hoping I might have five minutes before the bumbling creatures came back.
/>
Sandy was no longer on my stool. She knelt with a hand out to the lizard. It chittered, but kept its distance, dancing back and forth as if agitated. It was the first sign of nervous behavior it had displayed.
“This is not working.” She reached into a pocket and fished out a granola bar. She opened it and broke off a small piece.
“That’s not a good idea,” I said.
“Where did you go?” Her voice was so quiet it was barely audible. She gave me a wicked grin. “I thought the capybaras had gotten you.”
I did not answer as I considered the best way to respond to the problem in front of me. Sandy did not recognize the danger and I somehow needed to convince her to be more cautious.
I am not imagining things. That lizard told the capybaras what to do, however impossible that seems.
My instincts told me I was correct. I had witnessed the capybaras act as if they had been ordered. It defied all logic, but I knew what I saw.
“Be careful around that little guy. You should leave him alone. His bite might be venomous.”
She turned to me. “Please—”
The lizard jumped. I thought it was going for the food but it bit her forearm.
Sandy screamed as the little devil bit again. She flung it off but it landed on its feet. I kicked, hoping to send it flying into the jungle, if not kill it, but it dodged and bit Sandy’s leg just above her ankle.
I grabbed the stool. It collapsed as I grabbed one leg, holding it like a bat. I swung but the creature jumped out of the way. Cursing, I spun and lashed out with my foot, unfortunately kicking the lizard up onto Sandy’s shoulder where it bit her again.
Muttering an apology, I grabbed it by the tail and swung it into a moss-covered tree. Before it could move I hit it in the head.
I held it down with the end of my stool as I pulled out a pocketknife that I opened one-handed. I was glad I had not put it in my pack during the rain as I had with the machete. After making sure my hand was not within range of its teeth, I pressed down on its neck with my sharp blade and removed its head.
Sandy moaned, sending a shudder down my back. I had not yet acknowledged that the baby capybaras looked like miniature walking zombies, but her discomfort sent that idea home.
