I think she’d tell me to stew in my own filth. That’s what I think.
As I hike between towering plants, trying to pull my shirt back on, I notice something on my side. It’s thin and black and slimy-looking. Because it’s pouring, I can’t quite tell what it is. But when I touch it — I know.
There is a leech on my body.
Oh my God. Oh my friggin’ God.
Strangely, my first concern is to not let anyone else see. I just want to handle it and then have mild panic attacks for the rest of the day. Then chase it with a thousand nightmares while I sleep.
I pull my shirt the rest of the way on. Then I reach my hand up my side until I feel it. When I realize how plump it is, I almost lose the charbroiled meat-in-a-leaf Harper gave me last night. Biting down, I dig my nails beneath it and rip outward. The leech comes away in my hand and I throw it to the ground without looking. Making sure no one is watching, I tug the side of my shirt up and glance down. There’s still a piece attached to my skin. The head, perhaps.
I vomit.
Ransom hurries over to me and rubs my back while I retch water. He’s so distracted with my being sick, he doesn’t notice when I reach up my side and pluck the last of the leech away. Thinking back, I know it must have attached when I was lying in the cave’s stream yesterday. I mentally add caves to my Terrible Jungle Things List.
“I’m fine,” I tell him.
“I shouldn’t have given you that meat,” Harper says, appearing sincere. “It may have been too old. It’s my fault.”
“It’s not that,” I say. “I just drank too much rainwater.” I feel like we’re yelling through the heavy downpour when I’d like nothing better than to not talk about this.
Harper seems to understand because she asks, “You okay to keep moving?”
“Harper.” Ransom says her name like she’s being cruel.
“No, I am,” I say. “Let’s keep going.” Ransom stares at me, so I raise my voice. “Please.”
He grins and punches my shoulder. “You so crazy, girl.”
“Yeah, thanks for helping me puke. You lead, I’ll follow.”
Ransom kicks his leg into the air for whatever reason, then jogs toward the front of the group. Once everyone’s past the spectacle of me barfing, I slide my hand up my shirt and feel stickiness.
It’s not blood, I chant over and over. It’s just rain.
Madox watches me carefully for the next few minutes, like he’s afraid I’m going to eat it any second. I kick rainwater on him every once in a while, and he bites at the air. But he still watches me.
When we reach the only clearing I’ve seen in four days, everyone’s spirits lift. It appears that a few trees died and fell to the earth recently. Now there’s a big open space in the canopy above. Though the rain still comes in violent sheets, it’s wonderful to see the sky.
“Let’s break here and send RX-13 hunting,” Harper says.
“How will we light a fire to cook?” Caroline asks, folding her hands extra hard.
Harper shrugs. “Let’s just see if she can find something. Then we’ll figure out how to eat it.”
Levi and Ransom are already settling down on one of the fallen trees when I hear it — a low, rumbling sound. I’m about to check if anyone else heard anything when Caroline asks, “What was that?”
“Excuse me,” Levi says, holding his stomach.
Ransom shoves him. “Shut up, idiot. That wasn’t you.” He glances around. “I heard it, too.”
The sound comes again from the nearby foliage. It’s louder now, loud enough so that I know it’s not thunder or branches rubbing together or Levi’s stomach. It’s an animal. Though there are six of us and four Pandoras — standing in this clearing, blinded by the rain — it suddenly feels like we’re prey.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The ram, raccoon, and eagle Pandoras seem to sense danger is near. They circle around us and back up, pushing us closer together so that we — the Contenders — form a close knot in the middle.
The eagle stands on the ground but snaps her wings open wide. The ram huffs sharply through his wet nostrils, and even the raccoon pulls up on his hind legs like he’s readying himself for battle.
“Look at them,” Levi says. He’s talking about the Pandoras — their stances, their fearlessness of what’s prowling the dark perimeter of this jungle clearing.
My heart throbs against my ribs, and I glance down to ensure Madox is still close to my ankle. He is. The other Pandoras may have bullied him last night, but they may very well help save him today.
“It’s probably just a jungle animal,” Harper says, though she sounds unsure. “We have it outnumbered. It’s going to leave once it gets a good smell.”
I don’t like what she just said. That it’s smelling us.
I can hear our collective breathing; Dink’s sounds almost labored. Taking his hand from behind me, I squeeze, trying to reassure him it’ll be okay.
The growl comes again. Deep. Close.
And then the animal erupts from the foliage and launches forward. Caroline screams, and as the sound pierces my ears, I make out what’s charging toward us — a grizzly bear.
It runs on four legs, jaws open, black eyes set on the ram. Inside its ear, I can see a tattoo. It reads: AK-7. Seeing the bear coming, the ram rears up on his back legs. I know what to expect this time, so I grip Dink’s hand tighter and feel other hands grab on to my arms. We brace ourselves for the ground to shake.
But the hit never comes.
The bear plows into the ram and the two roll in a heap. Somehow, the bear manages to land on top of the ram and opens its jaws wider. As it brings its head down, I realize the bear is going for the ram’s throat.
“No,” Levi cries. He starts to run toward his Pandora, but Ransom holds his brother in place. Like Levi, I want to help. To do something. But we have no weapons, nothing to defend ourselves with.
The raccoon races toward the bear — and seconds before the bear’s jaws hit their mark, the raccoon jumps onto the creature’s back. Spikes shoot out from the raccoon’s fur and embed into the bear’s brown hide, piercing the flesh below.
Pulling up onto two legs, rain washing over its massive body, the grizzly bear releases a bloodcurdling roar. Then the bear reaches around and bats the raccoon away with its massive paw. DN-99 flies across the clearing and its spikes retract into its fur.
The bear falls onto its four legs and turns its attention on us. I brace myself for the worst — but as it moves closer, nose raised, RX-13 takes to the sky and sets her target on the bear. The eagle flies faster and faster, her talons stretched in front of her.
And then she is gone.
Seconds later, she reappears, her talons mere inches from the bear. They plunge into the bear’s flesh, just missing its eye. The bear howls.
“Holy crap,” I say.
“Yeah,” Harper says, and though I can’t see her, I can hear the enthusiasm in her voice. “Invisibility.”
Just like with the raccoon, the bear tries to slam the eagle away. But the eagle vanishes before that can happen, only to reappear behind the bear for another attack. Rearing back, the bear swats at the eagle. Blood drips from the animal’s back as it moves. The eagle tears at the bear’s flesh, but eventually, she gets too close, and the bear catches the bird between its claws.
Now the ram is back, and behind him, the raccoon.