by Susan Laine
Around them spread a jungle. That was a pretty fertile environment, and Marcus decided to search for edible fruit. How would he know what wasn’t poisonous? Well, if the animals on the island could eat them… then maybe they could too? Marcus decided to cross that bridge when he came to it.
First order of business: find out if there even was any fruit.
Farther in the jungle, the gigantic palm trees rustled in the winds that had apparently picked up speed, making Marcus’s T-shirt flutter and wave about. He welcomed the cool breeze as the humid heat gave him bouts of nausea. In the thick foliage, the winged monkeys—ozzies—sang like birds, chirping and squawking. Marcus couldn’t see them clearly, but every once in a while, he caught a flapping of wings or a flash of bright colors.
Marcus wondered what the creatures ate. He decided to follow them as best he could.
But he stayed mindful of Sam’s warnings. Every ecosystem had a food chain, and they didn’t need to end up a part of it as some alien animal’s lunch.
There were no clear paths through the jungle; only steep inclines muddied by torrential rains and made impassable by crisscrossing webs of roots and underbrush. And all the ozzies were flying about high above or hopping agilely from tree to tree and beyond. Marcus had zero chance of tracking them down on foot. And Tarzan he wasn’t.
“Shit.” He leaned closer to the edge of the terrace and peered below in search of a safe passage down. There wasn’t one.
A sharp, short coo startled him, the sound emanating from behind a bush.
Marcus gripped his stick tighter and readied for battle. Even if the creature was a small rodent, on this alien moon it could be massive. Marcus swallowed hard and prayed that whatever it was it wouldn’t be an enormous bug or spider.
“We need fucking bug spray by the truckloads here,” Marcus murmured to himself, hoping the sound of a human voice would either grant him courage or frighten off the source of the sound.
The fact that he hadn’t noticed any bugs flying or creeping around didn’t exactly help. For all Marcus knew, these creatures could possess camouflaging capabilities like chameleons and be invisible and stalk their prey unseen.
In his head he heard Sam’s voice, clear as day, saying, “Surely there have to be insects. This is a jungle after all. Yeah, there should be bugs here the size of Buicks.”
Marcus shuddered in disgust and instinctive nervousness. Of course Sam would never say anything like that. He’d probably never uttered the word Buick in his life. Then again, this was an imaginary Sam living inside Marcus’s head, so real-life accuracy wasn’t required.
The leaves of the bush rustled, and Marcus waited with bated breath, stick in hand.
A tiny furry face appeared between some leaves and grass. It sniffed the air cautiously before hopping out of the safety of the bush, revealing its small size.
Marcus let out a relieved breath. Unless this animal could magically turn into a bigger form, it wasn’t much of a threat. In fact, it was kind of cute, resembling a squirrel with its bushy tail and whiskers, floppy rabbit-like ears and big round milky-white eyes.
But it was no ordinary squirrel. Its little legs resembled those of a kangaroo, so it must be a great jumper. Six tiny horn stumps stuck out on top of its head, and the collar area of its gray-and-white striped furry coat was composed of sharp quills like those of a porcupine. It had a flat pink button nose, and equally pink little paws, like a baby kitten.
In its sharp-nailed paws, it held a brown nut. Sniffing and gnawing at the nut, it finally smashed it against the rough rock by the waterfall. It kept at it until the hard shell cracked, exposing a soft, honey-hued center, which it ate, licking it with a green snakelike tongue.
“Nuts, huh? Guess I’ll try those.” Marcus saw the same nuts growing in the bushes and figured he could gather a few into his pockets.
The little critter raised its head suddenly, at last seeming to notice Marcus’s presence over the gush of the waterfall. It cocked its head left and right but didn’t look directly at Marcus. He surmised the creature’s eyesight wasn’t great. Maybe it was nocturnal.
Then its quill collar stood on end and vibrated, changing color to green. It had to be an effect of sunlight refracting within its hairs, Marcus guessed, since he knew only chlorophyll could create natural green, and that was a feature of plants, not animals.
The creature’s bushy tail also sprang up, elongated, and spread into a wide furry fan, like a peacock’s tail. Instead of round spots, though, the tail revealed a complex array of silvery hairs or fibers, like pappi on a flower. Along the fuzz ran a cobweb of blue electric current.
“You seem to be charged, little one,” Marcus observed with a whisper.
The creature buzzed and cocked its head sideways, not fearful or hostile.
“Hmm, you’re like a tiny squirrel and a peacock. Should I call you… squeecock? Nah, Sam would bust my balls. Squizzies? Cool. That works.”
The critter’s tail fluttered, as if catching Marcus’s voice in its sensitive hairs. Perhaps the animal saw or heard with its tail, Marcus thought, vowing to mention this encounter to Sam.
Or he could do way better than that. Carefully, with slow movements, he fished out his iPhone and took a couple of pictures of the fan-tailed, fluffy little critter.
The squizzie’s tail shivered, glimmering almost blindingly white. Then small lightning shocks traveled across its tail that looked like the seed form of a dandelion. Any minute now Marcus expected to get a bolt up his butt.
The quivering of the tail soon stilled, though, and it retracted back into its curved bushy shape. The creature snatched an orange-colored fruit from the bush behind it. Marcus figured it had a nest in there.
The oval shaped, amber-hued fruit, however, looked mighty promising. With its sharp, nail-like little claws, the squizzie ripped open the soft skin and sank its teeth into a ripe, glistening, purple-colored pulp. Marcus’s mouth watered at the sight, and his rumbling stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten since lunch at school.
Again the squizzie’s head came up, and its tail fanned out. It was definitely listening or seeing with its sensitive tail. This time, however, the critter didn’t return back to its serene form but hopped back into the shadows of the underbrush and vanished from sight.
“Okay, nice to meet you too,” Marcus murmured, pleased with the encounter. Now he had information about another animal in the food chain, this one most likely fitting in the herbivore end of the spectrum. “And thanks for giving me hints about food.”
If the squizzies were anything like rodents back home, Marcus had a feeling they had sharp nails and teeth. Therefore he made sure to ruffle the bushes with his stick before picking and pocketing a few orange-colored fruits and acorn-looking nuts. He decided to try and break them open later when he was with Sam again.
Sam. Marcus sighed when the image of his best friend’s younger brother rose to his mind unbidden. And as usual, his arousal spiked. Sam had a tempting allure Marcus couldn’t quite explain and Sam didn’t even seem to be aware he had.
Sam was so cute. Marcus hummed to himself, unable to keep the smile off his face. It never ceased to amaze him how Sam could be two such different people. The enthusiastic one with a big smile, though never in Marcus’s company, and the sullen, grumpy one who scowled at everything Marcus said or did while trying to run away from him.
Of course, it wasn’t a total mystery to Marcus why Sam behaved the way he did. Sam clearly liked Marcus way more than he would admit even to himself. Sometimes he forgot, though, and acted nice and funny and smart. Then Sam remembered again and became either awkward or sullen with Marcus.
While Marcus was busy thinking about what to do with Sam, he scoured the bushes and trees for nuts and fruit. He wasn’t that distracted by his musings about Sam, mostly because Sam wasn’t with him. Marcus considered eating a nut or a piece of fruit but decided against it in the end. It’d be better to experiment when he wasn’t alone. In case there was a
need for CPR.
Naturally, that thought led Marcus straight to imagining Sam giving him mouth-to-mouth. And lo and behold, Marcus popped an untimely boner. Adjusting his dick in his jeans, he focused on harvesting and foraging for food instead.
Sam had been right about everything thus far. The low gravity made movement easy and allowed Marcus to jump higher than normal to reach for the branches and fruit of the tall trees. He could actually leap three times his own height. It was insane and cool and useful as fuck.
Soon he had his pockets full of nuts, berries, and fruit. The animal tracks on the jungle floor were fresh, and bits of these forest foods had been chewed and left to rot in the thin soil. Since they’d been consumed, Marcus felt confident he’d found edibles.
“Sam’s gonna be pleased. At least we won’t starve or die of dehydration.”
Once he’d gathered enough provisions to last them a day or two, he wavered between returning back inside the underground temple or exploring the vast jungle growing on the steep sides of the mountain. He had nothing but a stick to defend himself, and those razzies were too big for him to deal with on his own. Who knew how many more of them lived on the island. Well, obviously two at least: a male and a female. How else would they reproduce?
Marcus sighed. It was better to leave questions like that to the resident egghead.
He walked along the edge of the long terrace and studied the jungle below. Overgrown thickets of underbrush. Liana, hanging moss, and colorful flowers peeked out here and there, adding different textures and hues to the otherwise verdant wall of vegetation. In some directions, the foliage was so thick he couldn’t even catch a glimpse of the ocean beyond.
Going back underground didn’t appeal to him. Marcus wasn’t scared of cramped spaces, but the sensation of the mountain on top of him caused bouts of claustrophobia. So he stayed on the terrace, following the edge carefully.
As his eyes grew accustomed to the nature around him, he began to descry more than just the ozzies zipping from tree to tree, colorful feathers flapping.
Tiny, light green creatures that reminded Marcus of hummingbirds darted around beautiful orchid-type flowers. But whenever they stayed in place long enough to drink nectar with their long pink tongues, he could see they weren’t birds. Not with those long curved tails.
Their four wings glimmered transparently in the sunlight, resembling dragonflies. But other than that, they looked like puffy versions of seahorses, only gem-studded. Their skin glittered as if they were covered by microscopic jewels. Whatever it was—Marcus pictured armor of some kind—it seemed to be rock-solid.
“Sea horse hummingbirds.” Marcus snorted. “Gonna call you… humzies.”
He snapped a couple of zoomed photos of the humzies for Sam’s analysis. If they were aware of Marcus’s presence, they didn’t seem to mind. Then again, with their speed and agility they could undoubtedly outrun any threat they perceived. He didn’t think even the razzies could move fast enough to catch one of these for lunch.
For a while he observed the humzie flock scatter about, scouring impressive flowers for their nectar. Soon, though, Marcus took note that the humzies avoided one of the plants.
This particular blossom was huge, like the tree it grew from, on average at least six times bigger than the other flowers. Heck, it had to be more than twice the size of a human.
Its large, elegant petals and blossoms appeared in various shades of red, ranging from light pink to dark burgundy. In fact, Marcus believed that it was one huge flower, with dozens, if not hundreds of buds and blooms around a hidden center. It was stunning, like a majestic collection of red roses in one gigantic bouquet.
Marcus took some pictures, not because he was specifically into flowers or plants in general, but because one never knew in advance what might be useful. Weren’t orchids edible? Or was that just a random memory from some movie? He pondered hard and realized he was thinking of Barbarella. He harrumphed to himself and disregarded the idea of eating flowers.
The scent of the blossom grew heavier in the air the closer he got. Sickeningly sweet, the odor permeated the already humid atmosphere, making Marcus grimace and become nauseated. He started to back off, waving a hand in front of his nose to clear the syrupy perfume from his nostrils.
Something brushed by his foot.
Marcus stopped and looked down, praying it wasn’t a bug or spider or whatever.
It wasn’t an insect of any kind. It appeared to be a slithering liana. Marcus frowned, not having expected a vine to move on its own. He’d never heard of such a thing. He took a picture and decided to ask Sam.
The vine snaked forward in an instant and wrapped itself around Marcus’s leg.
“What the fuck?”
He crouched to unfasten the creeping thing, and another one shot out of the bush and wound around his left arm.
“Jesus Christ,” he called out in shock, trying to disentangle both his arm and leg.
Then he saw the jungle floor crawling with new liana, all headed his way.
“Oh shit.”
That was when he noticed that the huge red flower the animals all avoided had turned his way. All the blossoms now faced him. In the center of the sea of blooms, a flap opened to show what looked like a cup. And inside something… bubbled and boiled?
“Fuck.” Marcus knew he was in trouble. He’d never seen a pitcher plant in real life, but he’d seen pictures in biology books. Inside the trap of the apparently carnivorous plant was a vat of acid that would melt him into nutrients for the flower—very slowly.
If he didn’t break free soon, he’d never escape. Sam would be trapped alone on this alien moon forever. Marcus couldn’t let that happen.
He tried to avoid the vines twisting and coiling in his direction, the ground almost full of them now, like a heap of mating snakes. He still had his stick, so he hit the liana attached to him and those getting closer with all his strength. He was an athlete, so he had some power behind each strike.
“Let go of me, you stupid plant. I don’t want to fucking date you.”
The liana entwined around his leg burst apart when the stick’s coarse surface ripped it open. Green fluid spread onto Marcus’s leg and onto the ground in thick droplets.
Though it lasted no longer than a blink of an eye, Marcus saw blue electrical impulses wave across the rivulets until they faded away. Apparently the animals on this alien world weren’t the only ones with curious bioelectric properties.
The other vines stilled for a moment. That brief instance granted Marcus enough time to yank off the liana wrapped around his arm. The vines felt slippery and resilient in Marcus’s grip, like rubber. Malleable but tough.
Then he ran like a bat out of hell, dodging swinging liana and jumping over crawling ones. Once he got back in the shade of the underground temple, he heard a sharp electric rattle and hum.
Whisking around, Marcus saw the eyes of a standing lizzie statue on the temple wall shoot a lightning bolt at the ground. Several more followed in rapid succession.
Vines burned, erupted, and spilled green fluid on the thin soil. No sounds came from the flower, but the vines retreated, and the blossoms turned away to face the sun again.
Marcus breathed a sigh of relief, bending to lean on his knees and gasp for air.
“Shit. That was way too close.”
He rubbed a hand over his sweaty forehead and took a deep breath to calm his frayed nerves. In the trees, ozzies flew about and humzies danced with the swiftness of magical sprites.
“Now I know why you avoid that flower. Thanks for the warning.”
He inspected the damage the liana had inflicted. He’d worn only a T-shirt and jeans, as he’d left his winter coat with Sam at the library. His unshielded arm had bloody striations where the vine had gripped him. His trouser leg had a sliver of a tear too, his skin scraped and bruised.
Thankfully he’d escaped virtually unscathed.
Stepping out on the terrace and gazing down the hillside,
he saw that the vines had all disappeared back into the jungle’s dense undergrowth. Nothing in particular slithered over the terrain.
The bushes rustled, though, and Marcus crouched, readying himself.
Another squizzie came into view and hopped about, snatching nuts and berries from the ground and bushes and stopping every once in a while to listen, probably for predators.
Marcus might have been hungry, but he wouldn’t even consider capturing the tiny thing and killing it for meat. Maybe if he and Sam ended up being stranded on the island longer, he might end up reconsidering. But not now, not yet.
A low growl emerged from a different direction a mere instant before an animal jumped through the air from the greenery and attacked the squizzie. The movement was so chaotic it was a blur, but Marcus could faintly make out a curved gray horn, black and green and gold stripes, and a set of fangs flashing in the light.
A razor beast. Only significantly smaller, perhaps the size of a household cat.
Marcus didn’t think. He acted on instinct. He picked up a couple of pebbles and tossed them at the alien feline. He missed a few times but finally managed a blow to its side. The razzie let out a sharp yelp, released the squizzie, and ran into the jungle.
Marcus hurried toward the squizzie, his intention to lend aid. But the squizzie merely righted itself and spread its flashy tail, a bioelectric charge building till it sparkled blindingly white. Marcus shielded his eyes from the brightness and backed off.
When the shining faded from behind his eyelids, he opened his eyes and found the tiny critter gone. No more movement in his field of vision. Marcus could only hope the squizzie wasn’t too wounded, or it would simply die elsewhere and likely get eaten.
Sighing, he returned to temple complex and started back toward the library.
Yes, Marcus had been successful in finding food and water.
But he’d also discovered that the feline razor beasts weren’t the only predators on the island. That beautiful carnivorous plant was without a doubt dangerous and highly aggressive. From his short-lived encounter Marcus hadn’t been able to determine what triggered the flower’s hostile responses. Whatever it was, they couldn’t afford to make that mistake again.
