Jase & the Deadliest Hunt (8 page)

THE JEEPS ARE TAKING YOU GUYS
up a winding mountain road that loops around and around and makes you a bit nauseated. You’re in the passenger seat, staring at the jungle below and the ocean farther out. You make a few attempts to talk to the driver, but he doesn’t say a word.

He lets you out at the gaping mouth of the cave in the mountain, then drives away. All of you stand still, peering into the ominous cavern.

Willie laughs uncomfortably. “Think it’s lit up inside there?”

“I think we’ll be using our flashlights all day,” you say.

“At least I didn’t have to pick the weapon this time,” John Luke says.

Today’s pick went to Cole, and he selected the crossbow. Maybe a good choice for hunting inside a cave.

Unless it’s pitch-dark and you’re running from something and shooting at the same time.

It would really stink to go into this cave and get shot by your own brother or son or nephew. Imagine having to go home and explain
that
.

“Well, are we ready?” Willie asks.

You step behind him. “You take point.”

“Oh, thanks.”

The first thing you notice after entering the cave is how cool it is in here. You’re thankful for your camouflage jacket and know it’ll probably be staying on all day.

At first, the cave appears to have only one chamber to explore. It’s wide and tall inside, with those cone-shaped formations sticking out of the ceiling.

“What are those spiky things called again?” you ask.

“Stalactites,” John Luke says.

“Oooh, look at Brainiac here,” Cole jokes.

“Stalactites,” you repeat, examining them in the wide and powerful beam of your flashlight.

Willie holds his crossbow in his hands while the rest of you carry flashlights and illuminate the way, bows slung over your shoulders. Hopefully you won’t have another boar situation on your hands with an animal that attacks out of nowhere and runs you over.

“Can you imagine being a cave person?” Willie says, clearly in awe of your surroundings.

“No, but I sure can imagine growing up with a bunch of them,” you joke.

“Very funny.”

The floor is sloping downward now, and you wonder just how far it goes. Eventually it breaks into a number of smaller chambers.

“Are we gonna get lost in these?” you ask, following Willie into the far right chamber. “I’m not leaving any kind of bread crumbs behind.”

“It’s not that complicated.”

“Not yet. What if two passageways lead to four? And four lead to sixteen?”

“Not quite following your math there, Einstein. I think we got it.”

Willie keeps taking right turns, so you come up with the idea that if things get bad and you have to start running, you’ll just need to reverse your course and make sure you take lefts all the way out of here.

Or would we take rights? Let me think for a sec.

Willie begins to slow as the passageway you’re walking down becomes narrower and narrower.

“Having some trouble there, Willie? Things getting too
tight
for you?” You always like giving your brother a hard time about being a little bigger than you.

“It looks like it dead-ends ahead,” he says, either ignoring you or simply not getting your comment.

You lift up your flashlight, and the beam shows a wall of red straight ahead. “What is that?”

Willie nears the end of the chamber. “It’s like there’s some kind of growth everywhere.” He touches the red stuff, which covers part of the floor as well. “It’s soft. Like a lush carpet. Feel it.”

Everywhere you look from top to bottom is this red, furry thing. When you touch it, you get this really weird vibe. It tells you stay away, to head on back, to leave ASAP.

“Hey, guys, I don’t know
 
—”

“Look,” Willie says, plopping down and sitting back. “It’s like shag carpet!”

“Willie, man, I think we should go.”

You shine the light in his face, and he holds up a hand. “Man, you’re blinding me.”

John Luke jumps into the ground-and-wall covering. When he lands, all of you feel an abrupt and shaking growl.

The flashlight shows the
uh-oh
s on Willie’s and John Luke’s faces.

“Where’d that come from?” you ask.

Suddenly John Luke and Willie topple over. Cole takes a step back from where he stands next to you.

“Hey, what the
 
—? John Luke!”

Willie grabs his crossbow and aims at the wall in front of him.

The wall that’s currently moving.

That’s no wall.

Another deep, rumbling roar seems to shake the entire cave.

“John Luke, Cole, run. Take off!” Willie says, gripping his crossbow and preparing to shoot.

The boys obey, and you’re left there holding the light and trying to get your crossbow ready.

“Just hold steady, Jase. One minute,” Willie says.

The wall continues to shift, and then you see the face.

The face of a giant red bear.

And it’s angry. Oh, is it angry.

Willie fires an arrow straight at the bear’s head. The creature simply bats it away and gives you a front-facing, ferocious yell.

“Uh, let’s get out of here!”

Both of you bolt, the flashlight bobbling back and forth. You don’t hear anything at first and actually have the stupidity to think,
We’re gonna outrun this thing
 
—it must be really slow. We’re totally getting out of here.

But you hear it running and realize it’s not fat. It’s just big-boned. And big-headed. And big-clawed.

Everything about it is
big
.

Including its teeth.

You manage to get out of the cave, and the bear doesn’t follow you into the light. But there was no way you could’ve taken that thing down.
Come on! It was invincible.

Guess it’s back to West Monroe and
normal
hunting. Fine by you.

THE END

Start over.

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

YOU ARE RUNNING WITH A SHOTGUN
in your hands.

How’d I get here?

You’re not sure. You take a look at your pants and notice bloodstains on them.

Are those mine, or do they belong to someone else?

No one else seems to be nearby, but something’s following you. Something big. Something massive. But what is it? And where are you heading?

The jungle on the island. You’re in the jungle, but you’re running toward the water. Toward the beach. That’s it. Yeah.

Your legs burn, but you don’t think you have a wound of any kind.

Something whizzes by your head. Then something else flies past your arm. You recognize an object sticking out of the tree you’re racing past.

A dart.

A poison arrow.

Is someone shooting at you?

It’s not that kind of island.

Or is it?

You run faster and trip over a log. Several darts land right above you.

Good thing.
Maybe it is that kind of island.

You keep going. The trees are getting thinner and thinner.

Almost there.

Suddenly you break free.

The helicopter is waiting for you on the beach. Cole, Willie, and John Luke are already in it, waving you on and yelling.

You turn to fire back at whoever’s chasing you and realize you’re out of ammo. So you ditch the shotgun and keep running.

Why am I so out of shape? Note to self: start running again and go easy on the chips and guacamole.

You’re nearly to the helicopter, running through the sand, when you turn back and finally see them.
Them
as in plural
them
. As in dozens of them. As in a whole tribe of angry men wearing only cloths around their waists. They’re carrying blowguns and bows. Some of those darts and arrows are flying toward you.

One barely misses your heel. Another almost plugs into your brain.

You’re still running when you notice something banging against your side. Something in a cloth bag. You take a quick peek
 
—it’s something golden.

It looks like an idol.

I’ve seen this before, haven’t I?

You make it to the helicopter, and it takes off right as you jump in. Willie and Cole hold on to you. You hear arrows hitting the sides of the chopper.

“You made it,” Willie says. “We’re heading home.”

Finally. You collapse on the floor of the helicopter.

You’ve reached the end.

But then again
 
—how’d you get here in the first place?

Go here
and start over.

YOU'VE GOT A PLAN.
Sort of a defensive plan. “Hey, guys. I think we need some weapons.”

“What kind?” John Luke asks.

Cole smirks. “Well, we can have either a rifle or a shotgun or a crossbow
 
—”

“Be quiet, Cole,” you say. “I'll take anything at this point. We need something to protect ourselves. I'm not feeling very confident about tonight. Especially since the count has disappeared.”

“Where'd Winchester go?” Willie wants to know.

“Who knows where that guy spends his time. He's probably in his room.”

“Let's go get some weapons, then,” he says.

You each carry a candle down the hallway to the elevator. But when you reach the elevator, you realize you won't be taking it down.

“What's wrong?” Willie asks from behind you.

“The power's out. And the elevator isn't battery operated, is it?”

The four of you stand still as echoes of thunder rumble through the hallway.

“Let's search the place,” Willie suggests. “Maybe we'll find something.”

After looking for a while, you do indeed find something.

The four katana swords are in a closet as if they're waiting for you to get them.

“Well, we only have one choice this time, right?” John Luke picks one up. “The sword.”

You feel a little better now that the sword is in your hand.

It's a good thing too. 'Cause it's shaping up to be a long night.

When you return to your room, you discover a nutria under the bed. It's basically a giant rat. A swamp rat. Long tail. Fuzzy white whiskers.

Yeah. It puts up a good fight. But the nutria is very, very slow. No match for your very, very fast katana skills.

Just as you're finishing up, you hear a scream and run to John Luke's room. Somehow, someway
 
—some weird, magical, crazy, wacky way
 
—there are frogs in his room. Big, fat, bouncing frogs.

They're going berserk. Not jumping up and down but jumping
at
you.

Oh, these frogs don't know who they're messing with.

You are Jase Robertson, and you have the longest, sharpest sword you've ever seen.

“Let's do this” is all you have to say to John Luke.

The flickering candlelight is enough for you and your sword.

You're going to name this sword Tebow. Fast and unpredictable and bringing the pain.

That's right.

Frog legs for the whole island of Fiji!

This does take a while.

Soon the room is a big . . . well, it's a mess.

Let's not dwell on that.

And you can't, either, because you hear another scream.

It's Cole.

“Come on,” you tell John Luke.

Go here
.