Cautiously and ever so slowly, I place my hand against the glossy sheen of fur. The jaguar bristles, unveiling razor-sharp teeth. I stroke the fierce beast whose display of authority rumbles from its chest. With each slight caress, the edginess wanes. Rigid muscles relent. Terrifying teeth no longer sparkle with malice.
Beams of light brighten the scene like a curtain is lifted. My adversary purrs, rubbing its jaw against my palm. Long licks soothe and clean the flurry of insect bites over my arms.
I’m safe.
There’s no need to fear the animal taking care of me, accepting me into its natural habitat.
My lashes flutter shut. When they open, we’re no longer in abundant vegetation. We’re at the edge of a river, shoulder to shoulder. Allies.
I watch the sensual swagger of lithe muscle and a playful swoosh of a long tail before the panther plunges into the water. An unquenchable thirst of desire ripples through me. Before I take the leap, wings vibrate. Metallic purples and greens blur. The cutest hummingbird hovers over the tempting water. Large paws eject from the depth, swatting and swiping. It’s only when the fearsome cat plans his attack that I notice the pads are disfigured. Sharpened claws are absent.
The once tamed cat flips to feral and thrashes violently. The hummingbird flutters and dances, swooping to the water's edge, staring right at me.
Peridot eyes blaze with liquid venom. The docile panther no longer swims freely, he’s prowling. My heartbeat slams. What I thought was happiness was a lie.
Danger stalks across a decaying blanket of flora. The colors of the sky turn to black and white. I can see a fire of danger in its eyes. They aren’t calm and friendly anymore. They burn hellish orange, undomesticated, and savage.
One leap. One snarl. Jaws wide.
My legs jerkand a gust of air fills my lungs. Sweat drenches stiff muscles. A lamp glows in the far corner. Wooden cladding meets supporting elevated beams. Picture windows frame a shaded tropical landscape with no curtains or blinds. I’m sitting upright in a bed cocooned in fresh sheets and wearing a cotton cami and short set. Overhead, a ceiling fan spins at warp speed, casting the most delightful blanket of welcoming cool air over my damp skin.
Aside from being alone in a luxurious cabin, I notice a tightness on my cheek. It feels alien and swollen. With a gentle pat, my fingers locate a dry dressing spanning the length of my jaw.
I’m safe.
I have no recollection of time.
All I remember is Bruce. Blood and gore. Half man, half tree.
Slipping out of the comfy bed onto a woven rug, my knees scream. How long have I been here?
The owner of this resort has designed everything for comfort and luxury. Decorated with neutral tones and rattan to compliment the landscape. Even the adjoining bathroom has glass walls with intricate copper tiles and dark green finishes.
Water gushes from the waterfall-styled faucet into the hand-carved lacquered basin. I gather the bar of jade colored soap and lather up a creamy froth. Then it hits me. Lime and coconut. Profoundly green eyes. Danger and darkness.
A tingle of the unknown unfurls in my belly. The heavenly scent triggers sensory overload. My heartbeat drums. For some reason, it hammers out a warning—not relief—for the sanctuary.
Then I recall vomiting at his feet. Embarrassment replaces the flicker of uncertainty. And there it is, the reason for my uneasiness. I basically stumbled across the most attractive man I’ve ever met and puked like a demon. I’m thankful for his kindness. For taking care of me so attentively and putting me up in this suite. I just wish there was a mirror to study the wound hidden beneath gauze. If I wasn’t so dazed and relived to be alive, I might think I'm trapped in a glass cage with no privacy.
I smooth coconut essence over the lengths of my hair and rinse, shaking out the water to revive my natural curls. I’m too weak to stand for long in the shower, and my belly spasms with hunger. Smiling to myself, I press my nose to the glass, happy to be safe instead of traipsing deeper into an undiscovered territory without supplies.
With that thought comes the gravity of guilt. I shouldn't be celebrating my stay in a five-star resort when I’ve dropped off the radar miles away from home. Our colleagues at the lab will have notified the police, and my parents will know I’m missing.
There’s no doubt my little sister Emmie is scared for my return. I promised her everything would be okay. Wild horses couldn’t have stopped me from taking Fergal’s place when he bowed out. Bruce had visited the Amazon countless times in the past. He was a veteran of jungle life.
He told me, “Wild animals don’t hunt humans. We aren’t on the menu. If you leave them alone, they won’t rip out your throat. Give them the respect and privacy they deserve, and they’ll offer you the same courtesy.”
It should have been an incredible, once in a lifetime adventure.
An engine roars to life from outside the cabin. I scramble to the door, leaving the perfect temperature for my fair skin, and plunge into intense humidity. Thankfully, I’m dressed in a light top and skimpy shorts. Damp curls tumble over my shoulders, springing up and down as I jog over a long wooden pathway toward the mechanical noise. Scattered lanterns give the resort a magical atmosphere, so welcoming and enchanting. It’s pretty here. If I weren’t in such a rush to get home and speak to Bruce’s family, I’d be happy to hang out for a few more days.
The faster I run, the more my cheek throbs with every jarring step. Blisters on the soles of my feet twinge and sting where wooden ridges irritate their healing. This is my chance to hitch a ride out of paradise and get word to my loved ones. I’m deliriously happy to have a second chance. It’s been a bittersweet adventure of tragedy and self-discovery. Maybe one day I’ll return to the rainforest. Once I get over this trauma.
The urgency to leave injects me with false stamina. A helicopter lowers to a clearing with twinkling lights surrounding a circular helipad. I’m struggling to keep a brisk pace as a man with a cap and dark glasses steps out of the shadows. He greets a suited gentleman who jumps out of the aircraft without luggage. They don’t shake hands or hug like acquaintances. Their exchange is short and businesslike. No rolling out the red carpet for a paying vacationer.
The man wearing a khaki cap has his back to me. Broad shoulders flex, cloaked in a concealing onyx shirt. Assessing his dominant stature, I find muscular, lean legs are on show from the knee down. Camouflage shorts.
My hero wore the same style. I can’t be certain if it’s him. Hopefully, it is so I can personally thank him for taking me in before I take to the air.
