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Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Part 6: PB James and The Man at the Top


Part 6
He sees the trees below and while they are approaching fast he is still surprised at how long the fall is taking. It seems to go on and on, just him alone out in space, and he can't help but reach out and flap his arms and legs in desperation. He grabs at the air as it rushes by and he doesn't notice that he's screaming.
His body had taken over and made the decision to leap, there hadn't been any thought involved in the decision. His body had seen what the bear had done to the Russian and was horrified at the idea of the thick black claws ripping into it and spilling it's guts all over the ground. He was already off the cliff and plummeting into the valley below before his mind caught up and realized what the body had done and that both mind and body and everything else that made up PB James could very well be doomed.
The world turns green as he falls into the branches of a tree, bouncing off the wood and pine needles and flying into the neighboring tree and sliding along it until he's out in space again. The branches have slowed his decent considerably but he still can't see that there's a creek below him and when he crashes into the water it is a shock that stops his heart and his blood is instantly clogged in a suspended animation within his veins. It is the deep part of the creek but it is only a few seconds before he hits the bottom. His body mashes into the mud and his shoulder is crushed up against a rock and the pain makes his heart beat again and the blood flow again.
His nose and mouth are full of creek water as he desperately scrapes along the creek floor, dragging out handfulls of mud and root. He labors to the surface and drags himself up onto a rock and lies there in the sludge and creek slime. He knows he is alive because of the searing pain in his shoulder but he can't figure out how or why or what it means.
He lies there next to the creek and let's his breath steady and his heart beat get back to normal. He crawls over to an old pine tree where the sun is breaking through the forest and slowly removes his jacket and places it on the ground to dry out. He pulls the collar of his shirt down and inspects the shoulder. It is dark purple with a bloody gash along his back. He doesn't touch it but simply tells himself it could have been worse. He pulls off his shoes and his socks and rings the socks out there on the ground. He looks down at his bare feet and is unsure of what to do until he thinks of the bear. It isn't that far away and for all he knows the monster is on a trail towards him. He pulls both the soggy socks and the drenched shoes back on and makes his way into the woods.
He has no clue where he is or where he is heading except that he is building distance between himself and the cliff where he last saw the bear. There is no trail and at times the bushes and tangle of thickets become so thick and impenetrable that he must alter his direction. The sun pounds down through the trees and heats the leaves and the dirt. He wipes the sweat from his forehead and finds his hand smeared with blood. He realizes that his fall through the branches has left him scraped up and wounded and his shoulder aches.
His stomach tightens with hunger and he licks dry lips with a dry tongue. A large hill with a round granite peak stands solitary and majestic directly in front of him and he decides to climb it in hopes of gaining a view that might reveal some sort of help in the distance.
It takes him nearly two hours to reach the round granite domb at the top. The rock is smooth and gray and a dry wind blows along it. It gives him a three hundred and sixty degree view of the country around him. Thousands of trees stretch out in an endless carpet of green with mountains spread out along the horizon and the cathedrals of granite pushing their way up out of the trees speradically like they are marking the graves of giants. There is no sign of a road or a building or human civilization of any kind. The landscape is vast and PB feels the hope drying up inside him.
He sits on the tip of the domb and tries to gather his thoughts and get beyond the thirst and hunger. He believes he and Sam set off on the John Muir trail from the south west but he isn't sure. If he can figure out the basic direction he should be able to reach a road in, four hours? More or less? He can flag someone down and have them drive him right to the police and they'll be able to locate the hidden fortress in the hills.
The sun is bright red and sinking rapidly when he makes his way down the mountain and back into the forest. It's increasingly dark under the trees and everything seems more alive than it had been during the day. The bushes seem to crack and shake with the movement of unseen creatures and PB can hear their cries coming from deep inside the valley.
He pause his hike amid the bustling darkness and rests. The cold begins to push it's way into his body and he wraps his arms around himself and lightly stomps his feet on the ground. He is no longer sure that he's going in the right direction. He is no longer sure that hiking through the woods at night is safe or productive.
He sits and shivers and worries until he begins to hear what sounds like a low hum coming from somewhere in the distance. The noise quickly builds until he recognizes it as the rapid chug and growl of a helicopter approaching. He stands up and peers as far as he can into the dense forest behind him until he can make out a spotlight fluttering about and shifting through the trees. The excitement spreads along his scalp and he forgets his thirst and hunger and the cold to the prospect of being rescued.
He stumbles through a thicket and over a log, desperate to find a place to be seen by the spotlight. He can't see the helicopter through the trees but it's noise is oppressive now and he looks back at the light, fifty feet away, and spots a family of foxes running in terror from it's beam. He breaks into a large clearing and cackles in delight. He thinks of the first meal he'll get. A burger, with cheese. And grilles onions. And bacon. With mushrooms. And a fried egg. And onion rings.
His mind is filled with all the options as he flaps his arms in the middle of the clearing and the spotlight breaks through the line of trees and engulfs him. The helicopter hovers somewhere above him and he's blinded. He wonders if they will try to land or drop one of those rope ladders you see in the movies and then he notices that the rocks and dirt around him are jumping up in the air.
He looks over at the leaves hopping around violently like an invisible man dancing sporadically and then a bullet flashes by his ear with a high pitched scream and he runs for his life as machine gun fire rains down into the clearing from the helicopter.

To be continued in Part 7.

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