Max had managed to pluck hold of a leaf from the surrounding vegetation and calmly placed the eyeball down on top of it, not that it mattered, but he did so anyways, placing the eyeball atop the leaf and laying it down on the boardwalk. Everyone bent down around the thing, as if they were searching for a contact lens or something minute.
“We should get rid of it. The thing’s creeping me the hell out,” Josiah remarked.
Downs moved closer to Max and whispered ever so gently in his ear. “What do you think is going on here?”
“I think we’ve got a real problem,” Max muttered back, his words barely audible.
“Do you guys get the odd feeling we’re being watched?” Josiah asked as he sat up and craned his neck looking at the surrounding foliage.
Max turned and looked him dead in the eyes. “I do.”
Josiah stood up and exhaled a deep breath. “Geez, because I’ve been thinking the same thing since we arrived. Either way you slice it, it’s been an overwhelming feeling I’ve been harboring in my gut the minute that my feet touched down on these boards.”
The other three rose up from the ground, leaving the eyeball still sitting neatly atop the leaf.
“Guys,” Max said. “Um, let’s not rush to any rash judgments here, but I think it’s becoming increasingly evident and highly plausible that something is indeed watching us.”
“Toying with us is more like it,” Josiah said. “Having fun at our expense, like monkeys in a zoo flinging bits and pieces of their food and feces at the unsuspecting tourists.”
“Um, well, call it what you want, but I now believe there’s something out there in those trees,” Max said. “All this stuff is just too random and chaotic for something greater not to be at work here.”
His words hung in the air for a few tense moments.
The odd thing was that Downs had been experiencing the same gut feeling of which Josiah was speaking. It had been tugging annoyingly at him since he arrived via the rope ladder down from the chopper. Downs felt and had been feeling the same cold and foreign presence of eyes on the group, eyes other than the myriad of insect and reptilian creatures that called this part of the world home.
Downs looked over to Nat. She seemed as though something was eating at and bothering her.
“You okay?” he asked.
She shrugged her shoulders. It was clear to the eye that something was on her mind.
“Is everything okay?” he once again asked.
“Before we left,” Nat began, “in fact, it must have been the morning of our departure, I accidentally came across a few documents on Corstine’s desk. By mistake, I might add and not intentionally.”
Downs frowned. “What kind of documents?”
Nat looked over at the others and then quickly back toward Downs. “Documents that spoke of something.”
By now Josiah and Max had gathered round them. Downs continued to keep his voice low, but Nat shook her head in defiance.
“No, it’s okay. They need to hear this,” she said. “As I was saying, prior to our departure, I came across documents in Corstine’s office. There was a ten page write up regarding the death of an Indonesian worker several weeks ago.”
Max instinctively looked back to the eyeball, still lying atop the leaf.
The four of them scrambled back towards the eyeball and bent down once more to have a look.
“Do you really think?” Josiah asked.
Max looked up at him. “How many random eyeballs do you see floating around the rainforest?”
Max once again pulled out his red Swiss Army Knife and began to poke and prod at the thing. The eyeball sure as hell looked like it could have come from someone of Indonesian descent. The iris was dark brown in coloration, a commonality found among people of East Asia and Southeast Asia.
Suddenly, Downs was hit by an overwhelming amount of sadness and grief at what they were looking. Someone or something had ripped the eyeball straight from the socket. Downs’ couldn’t have imagined a worse fate, and for a moment he was completely lost in how the struggle must have ensued. Downs gently placed his hand atop Max’s, and pulled back his right arm that was prodding at the eyeball back. For a second the zoologist seemed to look confusingly at him, but shook his head and retracted the knife.
Max stood to his feet. “I-I-I think it is definitive we’re looking at the eyeball of that worker.”
A deep and cold shudder ran through Downs, causing the hairs on his body to stand on end as the reality of the discovery became apparent. The cold, bloody reality of the situation was very much coming to life high up in the rainforest canopy.
“Did they ever retrieve the body?” Josiah asked.
Nat shook her head. “For the most part, no. The dental report that I had a chance to scan briefly, and I do stress briefly, stated two back molars were retrieved, but that was it. There is currently a one million dollar lawsuit against Corstine and his company by the family of the man, and the family has also enlisted the help of a local medicine man in these parts to, hopefully, retrieve the body.”
“One million,” Josiah said. “Seems quite small given someone lost their life.”
“Not to these people,” Nat replied. “One million is more than they could make in ten thousand lifetimes.”
Downs nodded. She was right. One dollar was a lot to the locals. One million was a dream, something that most of them could barely even fathom, let alone ever achieve.
“The report,” Nat continued, “spoke of sightings of a creature of sorts, a creature high up in the canopy, that has the ability to take to the trees or linger on the forest floor.”
“To say that rainforest canopies are not very well documented is quite the understatement,” Max said. “I mean, rainforest species on the ground are still being discovered routinely. So the canopy can be viewed as an alien landscape. One could contemplate and even hypothesize that a large bodied creature could potentially conceal itself up in the trees, or the canopy for that matter, assuming it has the tools necessary to achieve such a feat.”
“What else do you know about this so-called creature?” Downs asked. “No better time than now to spill all of it.”
Nat shook her head. “Nada. Nothing. That’s it. The remaining files were mainly about the pending lawsuit. Besides, it would be speculative at that.”
“She’s right,” Josiah added. “All that matters now is what is, not what’s been written about or what should be.”
He’s right, Downs thought as he turned and stared back at the eyeball.
CHAPTER TWENTY
William Jamison strode out towards what seemed to be an ampitheatre, his long and powerful legs moving him effortlessly forward. Ridley and Frederick were close behind, their eyes wide with amazement at the sight they were beholding.
“Well fellas,” Jamison said. “Looks like old Corstine’s been up to some other stuff as well. Good old Corstine for ya.”
“Yeah, tell me about it,” Ridley said facetiously.
Jamison did not reply, rather just kept moving forward. He, too, was somewhat shocked at what his eyes were taking in.
The boardwalk came to a giant open circle that had a hollowed out middle and descended all the way to the forest floor below. Popping up through the middle of the circle was vegetation, with trees and branches rising high above the boardwalk while crisscrossing and splaying in all directions. As Jamison moved closer, he could see bleachers that went up eight, possibly twelve rows up, enclosing the whole thing as if it were some type of miniature stadium.
“What the hell’s going on here?” Frederick asked as he continued to move forward. “There was no mention in the business plan of this. Did you guys ever get wind of this?”
“Progress,” Ridley replied. “Outward expansion if you ask me. And to answer your second part, no, no, I never got wind of this?”
Jamison moved closer to the television mogul and folded his massive arms, making them appear even larger. “Don’t fool us, Riddles. I’
ll drop your ass in two seconds flat if I think you’re playing games or withholding valuable info from us. You dig?”
Ridley had worked closer with John Corstine than both Jamison and Frederick combined. He had gone over both Corstine’s financials as well as virtually every other part of Corstine’s business plan for the construction of the boardwalk.
Unless this is part of some unknown appendage in the business plan, Ridley thought quietly to himself.
“Well,” Jamison said, arms still folded. “Was this ever mentioned?”
Ridley shook his head. “No. I’m seeing what you guys are seeing for the first time. That’s the honest truth.”
Jamison did not reply as he lowered his arms.
The three of them stood there, entranced by the entire scene that lay before them. In the middle of the circle, the trees still protruded upward, but as Jamison began to make his way around the circle, and towards the opposite side, he could clearly see what appeared to be the beginning of netting or some type of wiring. This is what separated the vegetation from the boardwalk.
Jamison walked up to the makeshift wiring and inspected it from the same angle that the bleachers were faced. Experience as well as his keen senses told him not to touch it. It could be razor sharp to the touch, and by its all-encompassing outward appearance, it was. He looked back towards the other two.
“Meant to keep something in, and by the looks of it, something big?”
“Like feeding time at the zoo or something,” Frederick joked.
Jamison took the joke as just that, a joke, but he knew there was something more than simply what he was seeing. He knew there was truth in Frederick’s statement. He allowed his eyes to gaze upward, following the netting all the way up fifteen feet or so, until it abruptly came to an end. He could see the scaffolding or supports on both sides. It seemed as though there were plans to take the netting even higher. Jamison stepped back a few paces, until the back of his legs touched the first row of the bleachers, and he envisioned what he was looking at. Eventually, he could see netting completely surrounding the sprawling vegetation, climbing past the top of the trees in the middle of the circle, and eventually closing off to form a roof on top.
Jamison’s mind flashed back to the severed Komodo dragon. What in the hell could have done that? Unless it was just a bunch of locals having a bit of fun with them, toying around with the civilized world.
It wasn’t that Jamison viewed himself that much better than everyone else. However, he did support the notion that the world had social hierarchies, places that people had and needed to occupy. Certain people belonged and needed to be at the bottom. He had always supported that notion. Jamison viewed himself on top of that hierarchy, both in terms of physical strength as well as social status. He viewed the Indonesians on the bottom of that hierarchical ladder.
Once again folding his arms, he smiled at the notion of a few jungle boys toying with them, the wealthy elite, the ones who had, the ones who never went without, the privileged few that Corstine was so desperately seeking out to finance the completion of his boardwalk. A few jungle boys finding the remains of a Komodo dragon more than likely, severing it with some type of primitive cutting instrument, and then finding a way to hoist it up and over the boardwalk itself by use of pullies.
Yet it just didn’t make sense. It didn’t seem plausible at that. As William Jamison continued to stare at the netting in front of him, he couldn’t help but feel that something else was at work, something other than just a remote or obscure appendage in John Corstine’s business plan.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The sun had almost made its way down, creating a burnt orange that hung and lingered for some time above the endless green tree line. For a moment the result was long and dark drawn out shadows in the jungle. Before darkness slowly overtook everything for good, the only available light came from the moon above and the portable headlamps that were strapped to each of their foreheads. Dinner for all four of them came in the form of premade sandwiches and a handful of protein and energy bars.
Downs knew that when darkness befell the rainforest the place truly came alive in all its grandeur! It was as if all the creatures waited patiently throughout the day until darkness settled. He thought of how Europeans come alive at night, embracing the restaurant scene and nightlife after their day at work. Downs smiled to himself with the thought, realizing full well that it had been ages since he last visited his good friend in Lisbon. He decided that as soon as he opened the doors to his small action sports store and got settled back home in San Francisco, he would make the plane flight across the pond to have a visit.
Downs swiveled his head, the light spewing forth from the portable headlamp that was strapped to his forehead. It penetrated through the darkness and up towards what looked like a light stand. Yet it appeared not to be wired with electricity or a bulb for that matter. Another thing on Corstine’s “to do” list. He swatted repeatedly as several bugs tried to dive bomb towards him. He watched as the small winged rainforest inhabitants fluttered in his headlamp light for a moment, before flying off into the darkness.
“The only thing missing is marshmallows,” Josiah said playfully, trying his best to remain positive and upbeat.
Nat smiled and then turned and looked towards Downs. “We’ll stay here for the night and then head out tomorrow on the rest of our trip.”
Despite her calm and pleasant demeanor, there was a nervous tension that filled the air. It was still extremely humid, and Downs would have paid an ungodly sum of money for a cool San Francisco breeze to come rolling in, but such was not the case. Beads of sweat continued to meticulously make their way down his forehead.
Downs had already communicated to Nat that he would have first watch, and she seconded the idea that the group couldn’t just lay down in lieu of the day’s events without someone keeping a watchful eye out. Max and Josiah had bedded down in their tight and cramped mosquito-netted sleeping bags.
Downs stood to his feet and left the group, making his way towards the railing. As he approached the canopy, the thick and sticky air was abuzz with various insect chatter that only seemed to be getting louder with its symphonic pitch. As he neared the growth, his mind went back to the discussion earlier in the day about picking up various insects from rainforest ecosystems in order to discover brand new scientific species.
His headlamp illuminated the vegetation as he stared out. Several bugs annoyingly fluttered in and around his line of sight, undoubtedly drawn to the bright, beaming light, something they most likely were not accustomed to. He wondered and assumed that everything here had probably never seen anything but the shining of the moon high above, and that thought fascinated him for a few random seconds. However, if Corstine’s boardwalk officially came true, he wondered how that would affect them?
More and more insects were coming out of the woodwork, flying in and out of the light like a type of dance. Downs was just about to flick off his headlamp when he thought he heard something.
Faint and distant at first, it sounded like a crunching sound. Downs focused his attention, but as he swiveled his headlamp in the direction of the noise, it suddenly died down, and the usual sounds of the jungle instantly overtook it. A hand from behind him touched down upon his back.
“Sorry about that,” Nat said. “Figured you could use some company and a nice relaxing cup of tea. Well, at least I can offer you the company part.”
“I’m good,” he replied. “Something out there in those trees caught my attention. Sounded like a crunching sound, but it died down the minute I shone some light on it though.”
Max and Josiah were now awake and beside the two, their short-lived sleep nothing more than a rhythmic dance of tossing and turning upon a hard and uncomfortable surface.
“Well, maybe we need to shine some more light on the situation,” Josiah said. His tone of voice, whether it was meant as a joke or not, was unknown. No one replied though.
Downs flicked off his hea
dlamp, instructing everyone else to do the same as well. At first the act of killing the lights seemed to do nothing, but about twenty five seconds or so after removing light from the equation, the unmistakable crunching sound that Downs had heard earlier returned.
Downs looked over at Nat, the only light between the two being offered by the full moon. Without warning she suddenly flicked her headlamp back on, and once again, as expected, the crunching came to a stop just like that. Downs flicked his light back on as well, with Max and Josiah following suit also.
“Strange,” Nat said, her finger about ready to push the lights out once again.
Downs tapped Nat on the shoulder and mouthed the word “go” to her. Simultaneously all four of them flicked off their lights.
Immediately the crunching was followed by the breaking and snapping of branches as it sounded like something lurched forward, and then stopped. For a moment there was silence, the entire jungle itself had fallen quiet as well, before the all too familiar crunching sound returned again.
Downs could feel his heart rate accelerate as he suddenly switched on his headlamp. He moved his head ever so gently to the right, passing the outstretched limbs of vegetation with the light. It was thick in this part and seemed to be a tangled impenetrable wall, but as Downs moved his head back several feet to the left, he saw something staring at them. He had almost missed it, almost passed right on by it the first time. Staring at them was a giant eyeball.
“Um, please,” Max said, his voice wavering in fear. “Please turn off your headlamp.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“What better way then to see this place than at night through the eyes of an investor, boys. Screw through the eyes of a guest. Through the eyes of an investor,” William Jamison announced, holding his hands up in the air, seemingly soaking in the very essence of the night air itself.
All three of them were equipped with headlamps as well. Ridley Bells nodded his head and began to take in the night. Ringing the amphitheater were several dozen torches. The torches flickered back and forth to life, apparently running off of solar energy. Since they were at the top of the canopy, direct sunlight was practically available all day, whereas light availability at the bottom of the forest floor was limited, causing vines and other plant life to bend and to twist their way towards what sun filtered in through the dense canopy high above.
Prehistoric: (A Prehistoric Thriller) (Bick Downs Book 1) Page 7
