Chapter 19 | The Fangs of a Hissing Viper
Not all snake bites are equal, and this particular fer de lance bites in a way unique to this hidden jungle. It hurts, yes, but it also causes hallucinations and delusions of strength and magnificence. Red headed Mike’s sitting on his rock, face to face with the hissing viper, the jungle walls closing in. Will it bite? Or slither away? And those voices, the chopper, and the assailant giving chase? Mike is sobbing in silence, alternately covering his face and peeking. The world still there. He's got a tight grip on his stolen slingshot, and he's tempted to unleash a barrage of darts at the fer de lance. A hit could solve his most immediate problem. A miss? Catastrophic. They say hell is your moment of greatest fear, frozen in time forever. Mike is in that frozen moment, as the world swirls ever closer around him.
On the periphery of his vision, he witnesses a giant tower of fire, and a boy, and people down below gasping. The sky is full of smoke, keeping him from seeing. When he turns his head to face the scene, it's gone. Now turning to the snake again, he no longer sees the tower.
The voices are becoming clearer. The radio man is calling out coordinates. Suddenly, he makes eye contact with Mike and notices the snake. In an instant, he throws a knife and severs the fer de lance’s head.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Now the other face painted men emerge from the jungle to confront the boy. Mike is sobbing uncontrollably now, as the radio man puts an arm around him. “Don't worry, kid, you hear that chopper? They're coming for us soon as we find a clearing.”
The other men are scouring the area. Compasses are useless here, due to magnetic interference. All they've got is instinct and experience, and outdated maps. A message coming in over the radio. A clearing to the southwest. Obstacles along the way, appear to be surmountable. “Copy that.”
“C’mon, kid.”
Mike gets up off the rock, staring in awe at the severed fer de lance. “Thank you, sir.”
“Don't mention it.”
