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The Treasure
Michael W. Davis
Excerpt
Jake heard the scream from the direction of the shoreline. He ripped his way through the dense undergrowth, but when he got there, she
was gone. He followed the drag trail into the teal colored trees. After sixty yards he came to an opening, and there she was, the life being
sucked from her small body. She reached for him, pleaded for relief. He struggled to help her, but he couldn’t move. His feet were
entangled in the roots of the forest; the vines rose up and anchored him to the ground. She called his name, again and again, begged him
to save her, but he could only watch as she was slowly devoured. He looked toward the sky; cried out for a reprieve, but there was no one
to help.
Clang. Jake opened his eyes. His self made alarm worked this time. He pulled down the clear plastic container hanging over his head and shook it
back and forth. The motion aggravated the two-inch long glowworms stored inside the container. The insects began to hiss as their bodies emitted a
bright glow, equivalent to roughly a 40-watt bulb.
He looked down at the floor and observed a two-foot long brown slug easing across the trip wire of his alarm. He removed the knife from the
sleeve attached to his belt, tossed it at the four-inch diameter creature, and skewered the slimy thing to the ground.
Jake sat on the edge of the hand made cot and stared through the tent opening at his new world. He shook his head to force out the terrible images
that hounded his dreams. The nightmares came less frequently now, but the memory was always there, leaching at his soul. For that one mistake,
when he lowered his guard for an instant, he would be haunted for the remainder of his days.
Jake reached down for his knife and picked up one of the many hostile creatures he had learned to live with during the past eleven months. He
smirked at the slug and declared, “Not this time. You already sucked off my little toe, you bastard. It’s my turn to eat you.” He tied a string around
the extruded orifice at the front of the slug and hung his evening meal from the tent post to prevent the other little crawly things from stealing his
dinner.
He walked outside and peered up at the three moons that cast a blue tine across the landscape. “Might as well stay up. Not enough time before
they start coming again.” The six foot 220 pound man with sandy hair took a moment to enjoy the view of the sparkling turquoise shoreline eighty
yards below his fortress. He watched the forty-foot luminescent eels undulate in the surf, as the males jockeyed for access to a mate. He noticed
the large six-legged pig like creature routing in the sand for shellfish deposited by the tide. “Watch it. You’re getting too close.” The animal had
carelessly strayed next to a two foot diameter borrow. “Too late.” In an instant, the maroon-red sea leech shot out and latched its four-inch fangs
into the side of its victim. The struggle for life subsided when the leech tranquilized its prey by injecting a pint of poison. Once the meal was
enveloped, the leech retracted back into its hiding place beneath the sand.
“Guess I’ll replenish my stock.” Jake walked back to the tent and gathered an arm full of items from his arsenal. He walked along the rim of the
plateau that defined his battlefront and distributed weapons at strategic locations where they tended to crawl up the ridge once the assault began.
Jake shook his head at the contrast between the sophisticated armaments destroyed in the crash and his current defenses. His crude primitive
weapons were simple: several crossbows he fabricated from the wreckage, spears fashioned from saplings, and large stones. Not much for a
technology driven man, but enough to survive the last four months against the only weapon his adversaries possessed, their own bodies.
was gone. He followed the drag trail into the teal colored trees. After sixty yards he came to an opening, and there she was, the life being
sucked from her small body. She reached for him, pleaded for relief. He struggled to help her, but he couldn’t move. His feet were
entangled in the roots of the forest; the vines rose up and anchored him to the ground. She called his name, again and again, begged him
to save her, but he could only watch as she was slowly devoured. He looked toward the sky; cried out for a reprieve, but there was no one
to help.
Clang. Jake opened his eyes. His self made alarm worked this time. He pulled down the clear plastic container hanging over his head and shook it
back and forth. The motion aggravated the two-inch long glowworms stored inside the container. The insects began to hiss as their bodies emitted a
bright glow, equivalent to roughly a 40-watt bulb.
He looked down at the floor and observed a two-foot long brown slug easing across the trip wire of his alarm. He removed the knife from the
sleeve attached to his belt, tossed it at the four-inch diameter creature, and skewered the slimy thing to the ground.
Jake sat on the edge of the hand made cot and stared through the tent opening at his new world. He shook his head to force out the terrible images
that hounded his dreams. The nightmares came less frequently now, but the memory was always there, leaching at his soul. For that one mistake,
when he lowered his guard for an instant, he would be haunted for the remainder of his days.
Jake reached down for his knife and picked up one of the many hostile creatures he had learned to live with during the past eleven months. He
smirked at the slug and declared, “Not this time. You already sucked off my little toe, you bastard. It’s my turn to eat you.” He tied a string around
the extruded orifice at the front of the slug and hung his evening meal from the tent post to prevent the other little crawly things from stealing his
dinner.
He walked outside and peered up at the three moons that cast a blue tine across the landscape. “Might as well stay up. Not enough time before
they start coming again.” The six foot 220 pound man with sandy hair took a moment to enjoy the view of the sparkling turquoise shoreline eighty
yards below his fortress. He watched the forty-foot luminescent eels undulate in the surf, as the males jockeyed for access to a mate. He noticed
the large six-legged pig like creature routing in the sand for shellfish deposited by the tide. “Watch it. You’re getting too close.” The animal had
carelessly strayed next to a two foot diameter borrow. “Too late.” In an instant, the maroon-red sea leech shot out and latched its four-inch fangs
into the side of its victim. The struggle for life subsided when the leech tranquilized its prey by injecting a pint of poison. Once the meal was
enveloped, the leech retracted back into its hiding place beneath the sand.
“Guess I’ll replenish my stock.” Jake walked back to the tent and gathered an arm full of items from his arsenal. He walked along the rim of the
plateau that defined his battlefront and distributed weapons at strategic locations where they tended to crawl up the ridge once the assault began.
Jake shook his head at the contrast between the sophisticated armaments destroyed in the crash and his current defenses. His crude primitive
weapons were simple: several crossbows he fabricated from the wreckage, spears fashioned from saplings, and large stones. Not much for a
technology driven man, but enough to survive the last four months against the only weapon his adversaries possessed, their own bodies.
Copyright 2007 by Michael W. Davis
Copyright 2007 by Michael W. Davis
Site material copyright 2007 by Michael W. Davis
Forbidden Speculation Anthology
Paperback available Dec 07
at Amazon.com
Paperback available Dec 07
at Amazon.com
by:
Michael W. Davis
Stories to touch the heart and mind
