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by
Blair sat, Note book on his lap. The hard bound journal was a little worse for the humidity in the air. His tape recorder batteries had died days ago, but he still had the habit of talking as he wrote, even though he was alone.
"Have been In the Jungle for 2 weeks. Am close to the village that I hope to find more information about Sentinels. My hopes are high, even although I have lost so much, and the natives that were helping me refused to go any farther, claming that a spirit lives in the local Jungle, an invisible adversary that watches over the valley."
Blair looked over his shoulder, as though just speaking the words would manifest such a spirit. He was creeping him self out.
"Perhaps it is just being alone, but I have the oddest feeling that Something is watching me. I have found tracks of a large cat from time to time, but have been assured that a fire at night will keep it at bay, and that the jaguars seldom attack during the day. Needless to say this is of Great Comfort to me." He underlined this a few times to stress the Irony that his voice held. There is nothing left to do but to travel on, and hope to find this village. The map seems clear, and all that I have to do is follow the river." The young and disheveled man put the tattered book in his backpack. "Ya right. And hope that I don't get eaten." He picked up his pack, and headed in what he hoped was the correct direction.
Eyes watched his progress. A silent predator disengaged from the jungle and shadowed his progress. A hunter had sighted its prey. It licked it lips in hungry anticipation.
This was the second night. Blair had made his fire as large as he dared, but somehow it gave little comfort to him. He was not a person that gave himself willing to silence, or to being alone. "If I was not to be so paranoid, I wouldn't have been given such a vivid imagination."
Something or someone was out there. He had not been able to sleep. Heat, muggy heat, was sapping his will, and he was almost out of food. The fruit that he had thought were eatable had turned his stomach. Lucky that he had not eaten any thing else before that.
A branch cracked. Close to the ground, and near. Oh God. OHMYGOD. Panic rose up. An another branch broke, closer, to the right. He took a stick from the fire, and went to the edge to investigate. Animals were afraid of fire, right? And human voices, would keep them at bay, right?
"Here Kitty Kitty Kitty!" False bravo. He circled the fire, peering into the darkness, knowing that any thing could see him, and that he was unlikely to see what had made the noise. It was all that he could do to keep from running headlong into the night. Fire was his friend. He shivered in the heat.
Suddenly he was grabbed from behind, and tossed to the ground. The branch was dropped in the struggle, and his arms were pined behind him, and tied, as something dug into the small of his back.
Blair yelped in shock, too stunned to fight back, helpless under the hard fast strong hands that bound him, then flipped him on his back. He figure that crouched over him was between him and the fire, but in the sputtering light of his burning stick, he could see blue eyes, and a face that was striped in shadows. He wished that he could faint. That always happened at this point in stories. You could skip a lot of messy things that way. Panic attacks yes, fainting no. He took a deep breath, in preparation to ... well scream. It seemed the thing to do.
A hand clamped down on his mouth in a preemptive strike. "Don't even think about that. In the Jungle only the hunters can hear you scream." The blue eyes came close. Hot breath in his ear. "Make a noise and you will find that out."
Blair went limp. He was so not into dying, and way not into pain. Till he had a clue as to what was going on, he was not about to put up a fight. The hand stayed a moment, till satisfied that he was complying, was pulled away. Without ceremonies, he was pulled up to his feet, then slung over the shoulder of the man that held him captive, just to be dropped on his bedroll a few feet away.
"I could have walked man!" Anger over rode fear. Closer to the fire, he could see more of the larger man. Combat boots. Tattered rags of some sort of uniform. An assortment of weapons, from a gun to some stone age blow darts and knives. The Mix of primitive and native was confusing.
In just a moment Blair found his ankles bound like his hands. he was glad that he still had his high top hiking boots on. His captor checked the knot, then paid him no more attention. He turned to his backpack and began to systematically search it, emptying the contents, even to his kit, and few books, turning the bag inside out, then carefully repacking the contents as he found them.
Done, he turned his eyes back on Blair. Cold regard. Contemplating, it seemed for a long handful of time. Blair met his eyes, refusing to turn away, even knowing that this could be regarded as a challenge, that it would be safer to look down, to admit that this person had him, could do as he wanted. A smart person would have done that. Blair was Very Bright. He was sometimes not smart though.
"So, what are you going to do with me now?" OOPS. He had forgotten one of the first basic rules. Do not ask questions that you do not wish to know the answer to.
Another long handful of moments passed. If this guy did not say something soon, or do something, Blair was sure that he would start screaming. His hands were getting numb, his back hurt from sitting in such an unnatural position, with no support. And he was hungry.
He was also Blair. It was a proven fact that he could not keep his mouth shut. "If I am your prisoner, you have to at least feed me, accordion to the Geneva convention. And I do not think that this sort of restrain falls into the conditions of the...."
He never got a chance to finish digging that hole for himself.
He did not even see his captor move. He was just in his face. "Just shut up." Without preamble, He started searching Blair, Pockets, turned inside out, striping away his shirts, bunching them around his wrists, pulling his jeans down around his ankles. If it were not so clear that he being searched, he might have wondered if he was trying something....
He yelped a bit "Hay! Watch the hands" He squirmed a bit as he was checked completely. "No roughing!"
Done for the moment, tall dark and dangers sat back on his heels, and a contemplated look filled his face. He almost looked like he could relax. Right. Almost.
"What ever you are looking for, I am not it." A nod from him. "Can you please untie me? I won't run."
A moments contemplation. He pulled out a large modern knife. Blair flinched, but keeping his eyes steady, looking deep into the eyes of the man with the knife.
He rested the tip of the blade on his cheek, then trailed it down over his chest, lightly glazing the chest, across the belly, down one thigh, down, down, cutting the vines that held Blairs legs.
Shock held him hostage though, when he was striped of his boots and pants, then flipped freed and striped of his shirts.
Free but naked. "What is the big Idea?" His clothing was bundled away in his backpack, boots tired to the frame.
"Don't worry. Just want to make sure that you are not running way in the middle of the night. I do not wish to stay awake all night guarding you. This way you will stay put."
"Well if I am going to be naked, you might as well know my name"
"Blair Sandburg. Student at Rainier. Your Mom is Naomi, and you have an over due library book," Something that passed for human came over him. "Jim." He looked down. "I am a soldier, In a one man army." Deep sigh. "And I am so tired."
Blair wrapped his sleeping bag around him. " So how about we both get a good night rest, and talk about all of this tomorrow?"
Jim Nodded. Got up and went to check the surrounding woods. Blair took this as his chance to dive into his bedroll, and hid his nakedness. OHGOD. Odd things happened to him. He had accepted this a long time ago, with good grace, he might add, but this?
He was almost asleep, when he felt a movement. A hard hot body slid in beside him. Blair stiffened. Fear building, a panic attack about to crest and peek.
"You are not going any place tonight, " A long heavy arm wrapped around his chest. "Don't worry, I will keep you safe." In minutes Jim was breathing softly, sleeping.
Sleep was much longer coming for Blair.
*******
Blair could not sleep. How could a man that was so silent on his feet, snore so loud? The arm around him was sort of comforting, now that the threats had stopped, and Jim had made a promise to protect him.
To protect him. The words thrilled him. The last 2 days had been an adrenaline trip of nerves. To find the shelter of comfort and protection in this strange half salvage man, defied all logic. He had bound him, then striped him, invaded his privacy, and threatened him with a knife.
Man, he needed to have his head examined. He had to be a head case. The raged remains of his uniform suggested that he was some army fall out, or whack out backrunner. The words baby killer from one of his moms protester days about Vietnam echoed in his ears, and stories about men that had Post traumatic shock, that relived a bloody past, and never socialized back into main stream.
Oh God. He had to get away from this man as soon as posable. a part of him empathized with the loneliness that this man must have felt, with his needs and feeling. Get a grip Blair. This Jim might turn on him at any moment. Stockholm syndrome. He had to get away now.
Just then, opportunity raised up its head. Jim rolled over on his back, arm slipping away from Blair. This was his chance. Slow, slow, slow, moving an inch at a time, he slid the bag down, and moved up, watching the sleeping man, gauging by the rapped rem movement of his eyes that he was deep in some dream. The Fire show that his back pack was still close by. It was a risk that he had to take. He moved as silent as he could, creeping past the sleeping Jim, Snatched up his back pack, and without even stopping to dress, fled into the night.
A smile crossed Jim's face. He liked a good hunt. He listened for a few minutes, to give his prey a head start, and to gage what direction the Young man was headed in.
This was going to be fun. He licked his lips in anticipation, and made the Bedroll into a small neat bundle, and strapped it to his back. He was sure that he would need it later.
The game as someone had once put it was afoot.
Blair paused. Gasping for breath, sweating, still naked, feet hurting from running unaccustomed on the uneven ground. His heart was pounding, and the Folly of running into the night was just coming home to him. Oh man. He was in so much trouble. He tried to remember just why he had run, when most of his guts told him to stay, to trust the older man. "Stupid stupid. Why cant I get any thing right? I should have never left. I should go back, If I can find the way." He dropped to the soft moss hopping that it was relative free of bugs and snakes. "God Jim, I am so sorry. Were the hell am I?"
Jim watched the young man from a distance, listening in on the self dialogue. He debated spooking Blair more, to cont. The Game, but the heartbeat was so frantic, that he had to take pity on him. He had been watching over him for the last two days. He did not think that he was a drug runner, but he had to make sure. More than one time he had saved the young mans life in that time.
Watching him, Listening to his voice, the first English that he had heard spoken in 17 months. Something about him, drew him. He had stalked him, waiting. He did not understand. He wanted. He yearned. He needed. Now if he could just figure just what the hell it was that he wanted from this long haired child. He had to be in his teens or twenty at most. What he was doing in the Jungle alone...
Well, it would not matter. Soon he would not be alone. He would take away his fears. Protect him. Keep this little one safe. His. A primal need flushed through his body. Soon. On Silent feet, he made his way to were his heart laid.
Blair was in the middle of another full blown panic attack. He was trying to meditate, to calm him self. His hands were shaking too badly to even get his bag open to get his clothing out.
"You Lost?" Jim had appeared out of no were, a hand griping his shoulder. Blair Gasped.
"Oh Man, I am so glad to see you! " Blair tossed himself at the larger man, his fear of the jungle overwhelming his fears about Jim.
"You ran. You said that You would not run" The statement of fact from Jim came down like a judgment. Cold. "I thought that I could trust you. Seems that I can't. Looks like we will have to do this the hard way."
"Jim, man, I am sorry! I just got wiged out. Lets go back to the fire and talk about it! See I get these panic attacks, and well, I am in therapy!" Blair was still pined to the broad chest, holding himself to the firm foundation of Jim's body. "I would like to see you, see your face."
Jim was silent for a moment. Then he scooped up the smaller man, and grabbed the backpack. The Fire was not that far away, and it was a small concession to give. Blair had many fears, and if he could take away one, well, it was in his power, he would do it.
Oh God. OHMYGOD. Blair went limp. He knew that to struggle was a no win.
The fire was not out, but slowly dying. Jim Thrust the bedroll at him, and set about building the fire back up. Without comment, Blair unrolled the sleeping bag, and got in. He watched Jim feed the fire, took note of his body, and face. It was a nice face, with a high forehead, and a chin that you could count on. His hair was covered by a green rag, or bandana, but he had blue eyes, and little body hair. Nice body.
Waitaminit. This was a guy. He had not been out in the jungle that long that he would look good to him.
But perhaps Jim had. He remembered Jim's arm around him. It had felt good. Too good. Perhaps that is part of the reason that he had fled. Blair Moaned deep and so soft that even he could scarcely hear it.
But Jim did. And he was there. "Something wrong Sandburg?"
Ya, I am scared to death. "Nothing. Just want to get a little sleep. Tired man." Blair stretched to prove this point.
Jim nodded. And caught the outstretched hands. "Lets make sure that we both get some sleep tonight, OK?" And using his belt, he made a loop around his captives wrists, just as snug as it needed to be, and wrapped the rest of the belt around his hand. Satisfied that this would work, he resumed his former position, lying with his arm over Blair, pining him fast.
Blair was bound, helpless, in the middle of the jungle, thousand of miles away from civilization, with a posable madman. Why did he feel so safe then?
He curled his naked body into the hard body behind him. And despite all odds, went to sleep, the snoring of the man behind him like the rumble of a purring great cat.
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