“Let’s get out of here!”
You all bolt back the way you came.
“I’m gonna fire a few shots, okay?” you say, out of breath and not sure if they can even hear you.
After running about a hundred yards more, you turn and unleash the shotgun’s power. Maybe ten rounds.
The bear isn’t running at the moment, but it’s still slowly moving toward you. It roars at you as if saying, “Is that the best you can do?”
You catch up with the guys.
“John Luke, fire a bunch of rounds at him.”
This might seem cruel, but the rounds aren’t doing a thing to this animal. It’s like some kind of zombie bear that just won’t go down.
John Luke fires his shotgun and goes a little crazy. He fires about fifty rounds.
You don’t think you’ll ever be able to hear again. Plus, there’s so much smoke from the blasts.
“Think you got it?” Willie asks.
“If I didn’t, then we’re all in big trouble.”
“Let’s check it out.” Willie shoves you ahead.
“What?” you protest.
“Go check it out.”
“How did ‘Let’s check it out’ become ‘You check it out’?”
“Life’s hard,” Willie says. “Just go.”
Sure enough, John Luke got the big red bear.
Up close, you cannot believe how massive this thing is. “I didn’t know bears could grow this big.”
“I think Count VanderVelde is putting something in the animals’ vitamins,” Willie says.
All of you congregate around the bear.
This would be the moment for the thing to suddenly rise up and growl, scaring you all half to death.
But this is a kids’ book, and we want happy endings where people smile, and flowers bloom, and . . .
The bear lifts its head and roars one last gasp.
Willie screams like a little boy. Cole and John Luke jump a foot in the air. You, of course, keep your cool—well, mostly.
The bear’s head drops down again, this time for good.
Go here.
REDNECK NINJAS
“SO MY QUESTION IS, how exactly do we do this whole samurai sword thing?” you ask.
Willie is guiding you through the jungle, and with each yard, it seems to get a little steamier.
“You take the blade and you stick it in the animal,” he says, trying to be clever.
The long, slightly curved sword is in its sheath, strapped to your side.
“Well, I keep trying to pull it out, and it takes way too long,” you say.
You try again, and it still takes too long to slide the weapon out. Then it takes too long to wield it in front of you.
John Luke is holding the sword in its sheath like one might carry a rifle. Willie is swinging his in his right hand.
“Willie—what are you gonna do if something charges at you?” you ask him.
“What are you talking about?” He grabs the sheath with his left hand, slides the katana out with his right, and pretends to chop whatever thing is attacking him.
“I have never seen something so ridiculous in my life,” you tell him. “A redneck handling a Japanese sword. I hope these animals aren’t dangerous, because we might be in trouble.”
“Hey, I’m not the one who picked the sword,” Willie says. “You passed over an insane crossbow for this.” He cuts the air with the sword.
“Variety is the spice of life,” you tell him.
“Yeah, well, the only spice you got is Old Spice, and it doesn’t smell pretty.”
You ignore Willie ’cause you know this will go on practically all day. He does have a point with the sword, but if something’s moving fast, this weapon just might help get it.
You can’t help recalling Winchester’s admonition to you after you chose the sword: “Just remember—never pull it out of its sheath until you have control of the animal. Don’t run with it unsheathed. And aim toward the dirt as you make your kill.”
All of you were cracking up because this implied you were going to have control of an animal in some way. You guys have problems catching mice back in West Monroe. So the thought of chasing down some wild animal and having the time to contain it before grabbing the sword seems a bit unlikely.
Then again, you’re hunting with samurai swords on an island in the Pacific.
All of this is a bit unbelievable.
Willie stops and examines something on the ground. “What in the world . . . ?”
“What is it?” you ask, walking up to him.
In front of you is a big pile of poop. A very big pile.
“It looks like a dozen or so animals did this,” Willie says.
“Let’s hope.”
“That’s disgusting,” John Luke says.
You glance at Willie, and the two of you share a knowing sort of hope-some-individual-animal-really-didn’t-do-that look.
A sword might not necessarily do the trick on it.
Half an hour later, you hear a sound. A low grunting like something’s got a stomachache and is in pain.
“Sounds like a hog,” Willie says.
“Or a boar,” John Luke says.
“Or a really, really angry woman left alone on this island,” you joke.
Soon you’re not laughing.
The squealing can be heard all around you. As you round a corner, you set eyes on one gargantuan hog that looks like it really needs to get acquainted with Weight Watchers. It’s standing right on the trail you guys are walking along.
“There—see it?” Willie says, taking out his sword.
You nod and do the same.
The hog seems to realize what you’re doing, and it comes running.
It’s charging! At us!
Willie takes a swing at it, loses his balance, and falls to the ground. John Luke fumbles to get his sword out while Cole accidentally drops his, left with only its sheath.
It’s up to you. The true hunter out here.
It’s mano a mano time.
The thing is still rushing at you, snarling, and you can’t help but notice the ugly welts on its face. It’s squealing as if angry that it’s so hideous to look at. You point the sword, ready to strike.
Then another hog comes out of the woods to your right and plows into you, knocking you down. As if that was part of the plan.
Your sword digs into the place you thought the first hog would be, but now you’re on the ground, and the other hog is scooting around you.
Willie and the boys chase after them, but they’re the fastest hogs you’ve ever seen.
They’re the fastest animals you’ve ever seen.
You try to pull your sword out of the ground, but you stuck it in pretty deep.
Soon Willie and the boys return to where you’re standing. They’re out of breath and sweaty.
“Did you see how fast those things were moving?” Willie asks. “It’s unbelievable.”
You still can’t get your sword out.
“Were you trying to set a new Olympic record for the sword plunge?” he says.
“Funny. You should’ve gotten that thing. It slid right by you.”
“Yeah, well, it took you out,” Willie says.
“Something’s up with those things,” you say. “Like—I’ve never seen hogs that big. That fast.”
“That smart,” John Luke says.
You all turn to John Luke and nod.
You take in your surroundings with fascination and horror. “Guys . . . ,” you say, “what kind of place is this?”
Willie manages to jerk your sword out of the ground. “After that failure, I don’t think we’ll get the chance to find out.”
THE END
Start over.
Read “Let the Good Times Roll: A Note from John Luke Robertson.”
THE MORNING AFTER
WHEN YOU OPEN YOUR EYES, the first thing you see is a giant bear growling at you.
Of course, this is just a stuffed head hanging on the w
all. But it does give you a bit of a fright.
You glance around and spot Willie sleeping behind a chair. John Luke looks unconscious on the couch, and Cole is on the floor next to him.
You wonder if last night was real. With the swamp rat and the frogs and the spider monkeys and the moose. A moose. On a tropical island.
Right now it seems like you dreamed it.
It takes you a minute to sit up all the way. Even longer to stand. You fell asleep by the wall. You were keeping watch at first but must’ve passed out at some point.
Now sunlight is beaming through the windows, no signs of storms outside.
The familiar face of Winchester watches you from the open doorway.
“How are you doing, Mr. Robertson?”
You shrug. “I’ve been better.”
“You survived the stormy night.”
“If only you knew.”
Then you think to yourself that maybe he does know.
“The helicopter leaves at noon,” he informs you.
It could be six or it could be eleven. You have no idea.
“What time is it?”
Winchester smiles. “A little after eight.”
“Tell me you have coffee somewhere.”
“I do. In the dining room.”
“There are no rats or monkeys in there, right?”
He looks a bit puzzled. “Not that I know of.”
“Good.”
Then you think about what he said before.
“So you’re telling me we’re leaving. Really? At noon?”
“Absolutely.”
It’s unbelievable. The idea that you’re actually leaving. The idea that you’ve survived. The idea that you’re going home.
And I’m gonna kill those women for signing us up for this nightmare.
But first things first. You need some coffee and you need it bad.
“Will we see the count today?”
He shakes his head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“He’s a sore loser.”
“Loser? What did he lose?”
“Face,” Winchester says. “He has a lot of pride. And to get this far—nobody’s ever done that before.”
“But what about—? Willie said he knew someone who had done this before.”
“Someone who was selected to come to the island. Nobody’s ever made it to the end.”
“Well, we’re Robertsons.”
“I’m coming to realize that.” He smiles again.
“So what about the prize? The Hunter’s Cup made of pure gold.”
“Yes, about that . . . That was completely made up.”
You shake your head. “Can I at least get a T-shirt? I Survived Tabu Island and Didn’t Turn into a Mountain Lion? Or something like that?”
Winchester only chuckles. “The helicopter will be leaving promptly at noon. I trust you won’t be late.”
You laugh. “I’ve never wanted to leave a place so bad in my life.”
“Good thing you still have the option.”
To pick your ending, choose from the following:
Go here for a logical ending.
Go here for a sci-fi ending.
Go here for a sweet ending.
YOU SHALL NOT PASS!
YOU CHOSE THE SAMURAI SWORD TODAY, but now you’re beginning to regret it. What made you think this weapon would be a good idea? Cole suggested that maybe you could creep up on the animal from behind, but the creatures you’ve faced so far have been fast and sneaky.
You’ve been in the cave for at least an hour, maybe longer, when you catch sight of a large ball of fur from your position at the front of the line. You hold up a hand. “Guys! Be quiet,” you hiss. “I think we can sneak up on whatever this is.”
“Told you,” Cole whispers.
The four of you take up positions around the back of the mysterious creature. “On the count of three . . . ,” you begin.
Everyone strikes at once.
But this doesn’t have the intended effect. The thing wakes up, swipes you all away, and gets mad. Really mad.
The thing.
It’s actually a giant bear. Yes. A gigantic, bright-red, fluffy, furry bear. But when a bear brushes away samurai swords like it doesn’t even notice them, well, that’s when it goes from a bear to a thing.
“Did you see that?” Willie shouts.
It’s like the world is in slow-mo for an entire minute.
Your life flashes before your eyes.
You see yourself frog hunting and duck hunting, and you see Phil and your wife and your kids, and then you see the largest set of teeth you’ve ever witnessed on any animal.
“Run!” That’s all you can get out before you sprint back through the cave.
Your right boot lands in a small dip in the rocky floor, causing your foot to twist a bit, but you catch yourself with one hand and keep going. The growls behind you are as loud as ever—so far you haven’t heard any racing, pounding bear footsteps, though.
John Luke’s leading the group now. You follow him and the rest of the guys to the left, then straight for a while, then right. Soon you’re stopping, gasping for air, and trying to figure out where that bear is. You and Willie extend your unsheathed swords in front of you. The boys wave their flashlights around.
“You see that thing flick away those swords?” Willie asks.
“Yeah, I saw it.”
“Why are we even holding these, then?”
“I don’t know, but I’m gonna keep mine right here.” You clasp it more tightly. “Somehow it makes me feel a little safer.”
The booming roar of the bear echoes through the cave again.
“A little safer.”
“We have to get out of these caves,” Willie says.
John Luke turns with a frustrated expression. “I was trying to take us that direction, but they just keep winding around and around.”
You sigh. “I say we talk once we’re outside.”
“Then you figure out how to escape,” Willie challenges.
So you take the lead through the maze of rock surrounding you. The deeper you go into the caves, the more chambers you discover. You spend half an hour trying to get anywhere you recognize, but everything looks the same.
“What if we can’t get outta here?” Cole asks.
“We’re gonna get outta here.”
Then the bear howls again.
It sounds closer.
“Aren’t we trying to get away from that?” Willie asks.
“Yeah, that’s the plan.”
You take a passageway that seems to be leading up. That’s good because most of the way into the cave, you were heading downhill. So you have to be getting closer to the exit, right?
“Hey, you guys smell that?” John Luke says.
“What?”
“Hold on.” He stops in the middle of the passage. “Yeah, that. Smell it.”
You take a sniff, trying to see what he’s talking about. Sure enough, you smell it too.
“That’s strange,” you say.
“It smells like Chick-fil-A,” John Luke says.
“It smells exactly like Chick-fil-A,” Willie confirms.
But you don’t see any delicious fast-food restaurants around here. No drive-through windows and no waffle fries.
“I’d like to say let’s find out where that smell is coming from, but let’s don’t.” You start walking until you hear a roar that’s closer than before.
No, it’s not just closer. It’s right in front of you.
You realize two things in that instant.
First off, you’re all about to go down.
Second, somehow this massive red bear that can barely even squeeze through the cave smells like a chicken sandwich from one of your favorite restaurants. No joke.
I’m going to die thinking of chicken and waffle fries. That’s just unfair.
“Boys, head the other way.”
“What are you doing?” Willie asks.
&
nbsp; You hold the sword up and face off with the bear. “You too, Willie. Go. Get the boys out of here.”
“Are you crazy?”
“Absolutely,” you say.
“Jase, I don’t think—”
“Go!”
Your cry echoes all around these walls. The three of them take off, leaving you there with your katana, the bear, and the scent that’s more delicious than ever.
“Just you and me now,” you tell the hulking beast approaching you. You hold your ground, the sword tight in one hand, the flashlight in the other.
Perhaps you’ll be able to do some damage before it defeats you.
Steady now. Steady.
The bear rips loose with another roar.
You stare at it for one more moment. Then you nod, take a deep breath . . .
And toss your sword at the bear before taking off. In the opposite direction.
Come on. You’re no Gandalf the Grey.
No. You’re Jase Robertson. And you’re pretty fast when you want to be.
You run at top speed for what feels like hours, but finally light burns your eyes, and the mouth of the cave comes within sight.
You’re out. The bear didn’t follow. Maybe he was impressed with your courage and bravery. Or maybe he was insulted by your taking off and running.
Maybe he’s just lazy and didn’t want to come after me.
You’re kneeling on the ground, exhausted, when you feel a hand grab your shoulder. You look up and see Cole.
Thank you, God.
“You made it,” he says.
“I made it.”
Willie and John Luke are safe too. Everybody looks sweaty and tired and in need of a long shower.
“Well, that was sure interesting,” you tell them.
“Did you kill it with your bare hands?” Willie asks. “Or with the sword?”
You shake your head. “No. But it’ll never forget me. I promise you that.” You begin to lead them down the mountain toward the jungle and the lodge. No reason to wait for the Jeeps—you’re ready to get out of here.
“Hey, guys, I have a question,” John Luke asks.
“What?” Willie says.
“Why’d that bear smell like Chick-fil-A?”
“I don’t know,” you say. “But I sure am hungry.”
THE END
Start over.
Jase & the Deadliest Hunt Page 9
