Jase & the Deadliest Hunt (12 page)

IT FEELS GOOD
to see the island disappear. You're all in the helicopter, listening to the rumbling and gazing at the blue water below.

“Maybe none of that happened. Maybe we were drugged,” John Luke says out of nowhere.

“What are you talking about?” Willie replies.

“Think about it. When we arrived, we were given orange juice. Maybe it was spiked with something strange. Something that caused us to start seeing weird things. And every day we ate food they made for us.”

You wonder if he's right. “They did keep feeding us
strange
things.”

“No, I don't think we were drugged,” Willie says. “Why would they do that?”

“Explain the mountain lion that looked like it was half-human,” you challenge him. “And
sounded
like the count. Are you saying that was a real thing? The count is a mountain lion version of a werewolf?”

Willie stares at you but doesn't say a word.

“I'm just saying that John Luke does have a point. It's easier to believe that we were drugged than it is to have absolutely no explanation.”

For a while none of you say anything.

Cole breaks the silence. “I did think that fish tasted kinda funky.”

“Drugged,” John Luke repeats.

“Yeah, yeah.” Willie rolls his eyes. “Well, none of us are gonna tell the moms what happened on Fantasy Island, got it? I don't care if it was real or some kind of hallucination. What happens on Tabu Island
stays
on Tabu Island.”

“Easy enough for you to say. I'm among the walking wounded here. Do I have to remind you that you
shot
me? Literally shot me in the face? I mean, I am still wearing a bandage on the side of my head.”

“You got nicked by a tree,” Willie says.

“Oh, I'm telling Missy and Korie. No doubt about it.”

Willie shakes his head.

You keep going. “I'm gonna give you a shirt that says
Got Milk?
Maybe a bandanna that says it too. 'Cause I'm gonna milk this for a very, very long time.”

The helicopter flies on, and you keep wondering about the mysteries of Tabu Island.

THE END

Start over.

Read “Let the Good Times Roll: A Note from John Luke Robertson.”

DAYLIGHT BEGINS TO SLIP AWAY
as you enter the cave and trek deeper and deeper into the unknown. A cloak of doom settles over your soul. Then again, maybe that’s just you being a tad dramatic since you could simply be feeling bloated from the double-stacked pecan waffles you ate this morning.

“It’s cold in here,” John Luke says.

And the farther you get into the cave, the more you agree with him. You zip up your jacket and keep the powerful beam of the flashlight in your hand directed straight ahead. The shotgun is strapped around your shoulder.

You take a left down a wide passageway that dips lower and lower. As you pass a flat wall with water streaming down it, you notice markings on the stone.

“Look at these.” You stop for a moment to examine them. They seem to be not just markings but a series of pictures.

“Are these, like, some kind of ancient cave art?” Willie asks.

The top picture shows a group of people clustered together. The one right underneath it depicts something big and round and red attacking the people. The third picture shows the big red thing just sitting there, with a caption that says,
Burp!

“What’s that say?” John Luke asks.

“‘Burp.’”

“It doesn’t say
burp
.” Willie always has to argue.

“It says
burp
. You look. It’s supposed to show that the big red glob
ate
the people above.”

“That says
bug
.”

“It’s
burp
.”

This goes on for about five minutes.

“Can we just go?” Cole says.

“So we’re looking for a big red gob of goo?” Willie asks.

“If that thing wasn’t red,” you say, “I would’ve thought they were drawing you.”

“Really funny. You are jealous of my manliness.”

“The only manly thing about you is your odor. And it’s the smell of a caveman.”

The boys laugh. This only prompts Willie to keep going. “Look, why order a kid’s meal when you can get a Big Mac?”

“That doesn’t even make sense,” you say. “I think you’re missing Uncle Si, ’cause you’re startin’ to sound like him.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right.”

When Willie says you’re right, then you know you’re in trouble. And that’s exactly when you hear the deep, booming roar. It echoes all around you.

“Did you hear that?” Willie asks.

“Uh, yeah. It was the
loudest
bear roar I’ve ever heard in my life.”

“I don’t want to see what made that,” John Luke says.

“Oh, we’re gonna see it,” you tell him. “And we’re gonna haul it out of these caves.”

It’s easy to have confidence when you’ve got an automatic shotgun with a hundred rounds in its ammo magazine.

You reach an intersection that forks to the left and right.

Do you take the left fork and go
 
—?

Oh, let’s just keep going.

You head right and guide them in the direction of the big, bad, beary-scary roars you just heard.

“Be ready,” you warn the guys behind you. “But don’t shoot me in the back.”

“I’m not making any promises,” Willie says.

Another loud, deep sound booms past you. You feel it under your skin and deep in the caverns of your soul. But maybe that’s being a bit dramatic again because you could be feeling those seven pieces of bacon you had with those waffles.

You slow down.

You stop.

You itch underneath your arms.

You check to see how bad you smell.

“Hey, what’s up?” Willie asks. “Why are we stopping?”

You feel it. The eye of the beast. Or maybe just the eye of the tiger. You’re not sure.

Something’s ahead
 
—I know I feel it.

“Shhhh.”

“What’d you say?” Willie asks in a loud voice.

“I said please shut that yapper of yours.
Comprende
?
”

“Oui, monsieur,”
Willie says.

“Dad, that’s French.”

“I know that, Mr. United Nations.”

“Shhhh,” you hiss again.

The flashlight you’re holding illuminates twenty yards of passageway in front of you. The shadows play tricks in these caves, so you blink several times to make sure the dark and slow-moving something at the end of the chamber is real.

“Is that a-a
 
—?” Cole stammers.

“Yep.”

It’s a bear. A bear that takes up most of the space in the cave tunnel ahead.

“I’m going to keep my flashlight on it.” You gesture with the other hand. “Willie, come in front of me.”

“For what?”

You shake your head. “To ask for an autograph. Or maybe just to do what we’re out here to do.”

Willie slips in front of you and fires off three rounds right away. The shotgun blasts drill your eardrums. The big beast screams and shuffles, sounding really,
really
angry, and then it roars full force.

“Uh, what now?” Willie asks.

“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
.

“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.”