Zahrah the Windseeker (16 page)

Mirrors,
I thought. I took in a short breath.
Aha!
I knew what I would do. It started coming just as I dropped down and grabbed the first large rock I saw. Still, I focused on getting the rock in my hand and didn't bother getting to my feet. I locked in on the rushing scorpion and threw the rock as hard as I could, aiming at its large mirror eyes. Then I rolled back.

The rock connected perfectly with its target, and the scorpion's left eye burst on contact, oozing a black liquid.

"Yeah!" I shouted. But what I'd done wasn't enough. It hissed, shaking its head, and wobbled forward. The beast kept coming, whipping its tail uncontrollably back and forth, slicing off more leaves and branches. I'll never forget the sharp whistling sound that it made. I threw myself back and shielded myself from the falling foliage, but not before the scorpion's whip flung forward and sliced my arm.

"Ah!" I screamed, tumbling back farther.

The scorpion's oozing eye must have been horribly painful, and because it couldn't see through it, it grew angrier. Its whip swung about faster and harder. I felt warm blood flowing from my wound, but I didn't have time to think about that. Even if it was confused, the scorpion still had one functioning eye and was much faster than me. I was too slow to get to my feet, so I rolled. But before I knew it, I had rolled myself into a tree and was cornered. I impulsively curled up.

The scorpion hissed loudly, its sour mandibles dripping with yellow saliva. Even in pain, it anticipated a meal. I was breathing hard, very aware of my helplessness and doom. This thing would have no mercy with me. It must have thought I'd be an easy meal, and instead I had half blinded it. It snapped its whip only inches from my curled body; I could not only smell its breath but feel it. It was cool, like the mist that sometimes comes after the dry-season rains.

This is the last thing that I'll remember,
I thought.
That this monster isn't warm and alive on the inside, but dead and cold.
I curled into a tighter ball, hoping that this position would make whatever it did to me less painful.
At least I got one good hit in,
I thought.
After it eats me, it'll never forget me. Maybe it'll think twice about attacking other human beings.

My eyes were squeezed shut when the loud roar came. I didn't open them until I realized that moments had passed and I was still alive. I opened them just in time to see the scorpion's head drop at my feet, its burst eye still oozing. Then I looked up and screamed. I was almost eye to eye with the head of what I could only describe as a giant tortoise! The size of a large car! Its eyes were as big as dinner plates, the whites white as glow-lily pollen, and the irises a deep turquoise-blue like ghost flies. Its skin was a papery light green, and its jaws were so strong that it could snap off a scorpion's head with one chomp.

But this wasn't its only head! It had two! Its other head was busy with the scorpion's whip. Another chomp, and the thick whip fell to the ground like a dead tree branch! After I screamed, I could only gawk as the giant tortoise cracked the scorpion's hard shell with its powerful jaw and began to feast on its now limp body with both of its heads! The wet meaty sound and inky color of the scorpion's blood, which covered the tortoise's mouths and oozed out of the scorpion's body, made me gag with disgust. I looked away from the tortoise's heads and focused on the rest of its body. Its legs were stocky and its shell was covered with lush green moss and many leafy purple orchids and vinelike roots. I focused on the orchid flowers, too terrified to run away or even move.

Several minutes passed as the tortoise ate. I felt like I was frozen in time, and I didn't want time to start up again because once it did, I was surely next on this beast's menu. Then the tortoise raised its heads, gave a grunt, and ran its gooey-looking tongue over its lips. And turning, without so much as a glance my way, it lumbered back into the bushes.

I sat listening to it stomp away. The jungle had gone completely silent, and I could hear the tortoise for several more minutes. As I listened, tears dropped from my eyes and snot dripped from my nose. The air smelled of the scorpion's acidic blood and freshly cut leaves and branches. I was still shaking and felt very cold.

"How!" I whispered, slowly uncurling myself. I averted my eyes from what was left of the very creature that had just tried to eat me. I was alive only by chance! "How am I going to do this?" I said aloud.

I sobbed and for a moment was overcome by my shaking body. I wrapped my arms around myself. This was only the beginning. I wasn't a trained explorer, and my friend was in a coma. Anything could eat me. I was on the same rung of the food chain as a minor rodent.
If
even that. Easy prey. And no one could save me. No one even knew where I was! Only a few days before, I was home safe with my parents, hanging out with Dari on the network; now I was alone in a place where it was "kill or be killed" or "be killed while trying to kill!"

For a long time, I sat there in the dirt shaking and sobbing. My eyes grew puffy. My nose ran onto my sandals. My head throbbed. What was left of the dead scorpion began to smell more bitter and acidic in death, but still I didn't move. All I thought about was Dari and how helpless I felt. And all I could do was wallow in my misery, self-pity, and shock.

But after a while, I quieted and grew more still. I could hear the caw of a palm-tree crow. Palm-tree crows were also common in Kirki, and the sound helped bring me back to reality. The reality was there was no turning back, and if I wanted to live, I had to move on.

"At least it's dead," I said to myself as I slowly stood up. "And it didn't kill me."

As I straightened up, I felt slightly dizzy and a little off balance. I looked at my bleeding arm, peeking underneath my dirty, now ripped shirt. The cut wasn't that deep, but I could smell a little of the acidic odor coming from the wound. Another wave of dizziness hit me. I shook my head and fought back more tears as something really bad dawned on me. I stepped over to my satchel and bundle, which were still under the tree where I'd left them. The satchel was open and all my food was gone. Bush cows must have got into my things as I was being attacked.

But I had a feeling that that was the least of my problems. With trembling hands, I picked up and opened the field guide to find out if what I suspected was true. Thankfully, the field guide turned on after the second try. It was easy to find the entry on the scorpion.

If you've survived an attack by a whip scorpion, congratulations. There's hope for you yet. This is really one of the first truly deadly Greeny Jungle creatures you'll encounter. Sure there are also bush dogs, carnivorous plants, and flesh-eating maggots, but the whip scorpion is not only lethal but highly intelligent. You can't escape it. You
must
murder it or be murdered. And bringing one down is not easy. If you had a gun, you must have aimed for the eyes. If you had a bow and arrow, you must have aimed for the eyes. If you had a barbed spear, you must have aimed for the eyes. If you had none of these, we have
no idea
how you're alive!

They forgot to consider sharp rocks,
I thought.
And the help of a disgusting, giant, plant-covered, two-headed tortoise with a big appetite.
I yawned, feeling extremely tired. Suddenly, all I wanted to do was sleep. I skipped several paragraphs.

If you're cut by that infernal whip scorpion's whip, you have good reason to worry. Whip scorpion poison is lethal. If it's a big gash, well, you will probably die in a matter of minutes from the bleeding and poison combined. But if it's a small cut, a tiny blue rash will appear around it and it will be very itchy. Do not scratch. If you scratch at it, you'll get poison under your nails. Most of us will agree, itchiness under the nails is agony.

All you can really do is pat some soil on the wound-greeny Jungle soil is very good for wounds—and get some rest. Everything else is up to fate. You will either live or die. Over 50 percent of those poisoned will die. It depends on how tough you are. As the poison circulates in your bloodstream, you will get more and more sluggish and less alert. When you're near the end, you may see lines and blotches. You will Know your fate within a day or so.

Still, beware of that sweet sleep you crave, tine more you sleep, the stronger that venom inside you becomes. Too much sleep could bring on death even if you're strong. Try setting your alarm clock. Have it wake you up every four hours and then walk around if you can.

If you live, it's not over yet. For the next six to seven months, until the poison has fully left your system, you'll be susceptible to spontaneous spells of deep sleep whenever your blood pressure rises high, such as times of extreme fear or anxiefy. Good luck!

"Spontaneous spells of deep sleep? Just from being scared?" I said out loud in disbelief. I felt so tired that I slurred my words. "It's just a matter of dying now or later!"

I smacked my forehead and closed my eyes, almost falling asleep right then and there. I shook my head, picked up a stone, and threw it hard at the corpse of the scorpion. The stone landed in the exposed meat of the gaping hole that the tortoise had bitten into. I grimaced with disgust. Still, the cursed thing had done this to me. Evil, vile thing. My arm was already itching, several bright blue spots popping up on it.

A sudden wave of drowsiness hit me, and I sat down heavily in front of a tree before the whip scorpion.

"Oh, no, no!" I whispered in my slurred voice. "Not now, can't sleep."

I had to fight it. To fall asleep on the ground in the jungle was practically suicide, poison or no poison!

My eyelids felt as if someone were gently pulling them down, and I even thought I heard my mother's voice softly singing in my ear a melody she always sang to me when I was young.

Close the door
Light the light.
We're staying home tonight.
Far away from the hustle
And the bright city lights.

I mumbled the song along with the voice I thought I heard. Even as sleep took me, I felt my stomach grumble. I didn't have any nourishment in my body to fight the poison, either. Oh, my chances of living were so so slim.
If I fall asleep,
I thought,
not only will I not wake up, but neither will Dari.
My mind was going fuzzy.
I've failed him,
I thought,
and I've failed myself

Then I slept.

I was lucky a second time.

It was afternoon when I woke. The afternoon of the next day!
I'm alive,
I thought. But blue splotches and purple lines clouded my vision, so that I had to squint to make things out. Several vines from the tree above me had crept down and begun to grow across my shoulders. Already the jungle was trying to swallow me up, and I wasn't even dead yet!

Some sort of furry, orange, round rodent was licking the sweat off my left arm. When I moved, it rounded its lips and made an odd
oooooo
sound and scurried away. I blinked and tried to move my arms up to push the vines away and rub off the animal's saliva onto my clothes. I was able to do so, but my muscles ached horribly. My entire body was wet with perspiration, but I felt cold as ice. The vines had suction-cup-like buds that fastened them to my arm. Pulling them off wasn't painful, but it took me a minute to flake them from my skin.

I sat for a moment thinking. Why nothing had come along and eaten me in the night (unless I counted the attempts by the vine and the licking rodent) was beyond me. Maybe the jungle's creatures and beasts felt soriy for me, or maybe I just didn't fit into the current menu; maybe I was poisoned meat. I didn't know. I didn't care. I was alive and that was all that mattered.

"Oh," I groaned.

I may not have died yet from the scorpion's poison, but I was certainly on my way out. The minute my mind remembered what had happened to me, I knew that what I was experiencing was my body dying. It was an eerie sensation. Like everything was shutting down and packing up. A part of me even wanted to lie down and go back to sleep. I knew if I did, I wouldn't wake up. But still, the urge was strong.

It was the thought of my parents and how they would feel if I died that got me going. I could scarcely fathom the grief they were feeling in that very moment and how their grief would deepen if I never went back. The stories they might imagine of how I died would cause them even more sadness. Then there would be worse stories other people would make up. I would become like the man in the folktale the farmers had told us.

My mother would stop combing her hair, and my father would forget to put on his favorite cologne. They would look at my bedroom with all the things I'd have left behind. They would watch the plants on my dresser grow out of control, the dresses in my closet get moldy, and my personal computer stop evolving. I'd always be a ghost that haunted them, as Dari would haunt his parents.