CH. 1: Carpets of Green Romance

The day had barely begun, yet the sun was sneering from above. 

Professor Brown Sanders wiped his forehead with a bandanna and stared at the damp spot in the center of the fabric. Of all the colors he could have chosen that day, it had to be green.

Green, like the canopy of leaves blocking the sun every now and then. Green, like the dense undergrowth weaving through the forest floor, carpeted by thick sludge of mud, rotting plants, and the droppings of God only knows what. With every step he took, the snake-like vines seemed to move, determined to launch him face-first into the putrid forest floor of the A****n rainforest.

The men around him murmured as they walked, sighing when he walked a little too fast. He wouldn't blame them. They couldn't quite comprehend why he wouldn't back down. This mission was more important than his million-dollar paying job back in the States.

On an average day, he would be behind a desk with a pen or giving one of his beautiful lectures on Medical Sciences at the University of West Calgary. At least he thought of them as 'beautiful,' although he was certain the students would pick some other 'unsavory' term.

 For the last two weeks, he, and his team of explorers, had braved the rains, buzzing insects, and the undercurrent of growth and rotting vegetation that laced their path. Their goal? A treasure only he could utter.

They were so close now!

The professor sighed and pulled out his journal from one of the numerous pockets of his brown khaki shorts. Still keeping stride with his companions, he opened a new page and put the pen on a string around his neck to paper. Ignoring the thrills of small animals and the creaking woods that muffled the conversations around him, he took one look at his watch and straightened his pen. 

October 13th, 2020,

Day 3

8:17 am

The company broke camp at 07:00 and headed south. We plan on getting to the ruins of a Mayan village abandoned for centuries, where it has been rumored that we can find the very plant we seek…

For some reason, the forest around them had grown entirely still. There were no more animal noises except for their footsteps, and the head ranger signaled for the group to halt.

The professor left his place in the middle of the column and made his way to the front, stopping beside the burly Peruvian. The ranger had his gun out, and his black brush of a mustache twitched as he scanned the space before them. The forest was quiet. Too quiet.

"What's going on?" He whispered. 

"Shhh…"

Brown clamped his lips and looked around. No birds were noising in the trees. Now, that was strange. This deep in the rainforest, tree-dwelling creatures were always abundant.

A cry broke into the air a few feet from them, stopping as suddenly as it had begun. Large black birds flapped their wings and farted from the trees. The flapping and fluttering continued for a few seconds and then stopped.

"What's going on?" Brown asked again.

"You tell me," the Peruvian replied. "You're the expert."

Expert in books, not strange noisy birds.

The ranger held his fist in the air when a couple of men behind them began to whisper nervously. He ignored it, turning his head around. Listening. Brown stuck close to him.

After a few minutes of complete silence, the forest dwellers resumed their racket, and the men heaved a sigh of relief. Tiny rodents scuttled through the undergrowth, finding their way up the moss-ridden trees.

"There's a river nearby," the Ranger said, heading in that direction. He was right. A few seconds later, they were in front of a fast flowing river. The ranger signaled for a rest. While the men stretched their legs and gulped down water from their canteens, Brown turned to him.

"We're off track," Brown said, looking over the worn-out map.

"I know the jungle like my gun. We're not."

"But we're here," Brown pointed to a mark on his map. "But we should be way over there."

Mario didn't respond. He washed his face at the bank of the river. A loud bird call interrupted the silence between them.

"Is it even safe for us to even be here?" Brown said as he looked around the thick cluster of trees the sounds came from. "I think we should turn around, find another way…"

"Is it safe anywhere in the jungle?" Mario said. He was getting pissed. Even Brown could tell. "It was just a scare. Nothing happened."

Mario spoke English with a very thick accent, so Brown had to listen carefully, or he would hear nothing at all. 

"Still, I say we turn back," Brown said, glancing at his wristwatch. It would take another hour to get back to the camp, and if they changed directions, it would set them back by one full day. He didn't mind the delay, though, as long as it kept them safe.

"We'll be fine." The big man waved his hand and turned to the crew. "Let's move!"

Brown trailed behind, eyes darting to the bushes around them and jumping at every sound. After a while, though, he started to feel ridiculous. No one else was high-strung or flinching when a vine touched bare skin.

When he started to feel comfortable, the forest fell silent around them again. Brown was the only one who noticed; the rest were laughing and gesticulating wildly, and just when he opened his mouth to call to Mario, there was a sharp twang in the air, and the ranger dropped to the ground like a log.

A shiver ran down Brown's spine as he lunged for cover. One of the men raced to Mario's body and put a finger to his neck. His eyes found Brown's.

"He's dead."

And all hell broke loose.

Brown ducked behind a tree, pulling out his gun, but he couldn't see anyone around, but his team. Whoever they were, they could see his team too. A spear whistled in the air, burying itself in one of his team.

He could hear the sounds of battle all around him: the clash of spears, the screams of his teammates, and the whizzing of arrows. His heart raced with fear as he struggled to think of a plan. They were outnumbered, outmatched, and outmaneuvered.

Brown peeked around the tree, his heart thumping faster than the sound of feet around him. A group of women charged toward him. They were muscular and tall, brandishing spears, and covered from head to toe with strange red paint. He scrambled for a gun, pulling it in front of him.

"Stay back. I'd shoot!"

One of them moved in front of the others, knocking the gun out of his hand with little fuss. He put out his next attack, biting at her hand. She didn't back off. Instead, she steadied her grip and landed a large right hand on his cheek.

For the next few seconds, the seething sun overhead ceased to be the hottest thing on the planet. His cheek was. The women surrounded him, their eyes fixed on their prey, and with the groans of death around him, Brown felt like prey. 

His pulse roared in his ears—an echo of the rivers of red soaking into the forest around him—as he realized he was utterly defenseless. He tried to make a run for it, but one of the women tackled him to the ground. She screamed a primitive battle cry and the others joined in.

Brown struggled to break free, but the women easily held him down. They stripped him of his weapons and dragged him through the forest, their spears pointed at his back. 

Brown's stomach rolled as he was brought before their leader, and when they forced him to kneel, his mind was caught between running away and a morbid fascination. 

She was taller and more muscular than the others, with long black hair and piercing green eyes. Her presence was commanding and royal. She left the group, wearing deeper into the forest. Some of his team was spared. They pulled them along too.

They soon approached a clearing in the forest. He watched them throw the rest of his team into spiky cages made of forest vine. The green-eyed lady walked into a fancy little shed, and the others tossed him inside.

She grabbed the end of a spear and stabbed the ground next to him.

"Please, don't kill me," Brown begged.

She took a step closer.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't."

Brown was stunned.

"You speak English. Oh, dear. Oh…err…I am Brown. I only came here…."

"You're here because the wind brought you," she said.

Wind? 

"No, no, I…."

"No?" She grabbed her spear.

"No, yes. Yes!"

She relaxed and moved to one end of the shed. There was a makeshift bed made of reeds there.

"Come here, Brown," she said. "The wind has brought you here for a purpose. I will make sure you fulfill it."