Man on a Mission

My breath comes in rapid gulps as I peer cautiously through the foliage. No trace of pursuit. Yet. The jungle spreads all around me like a wild green blanket, shielding me from the prying eyes. My enemies are smart and wily though. I know they are hot on my heels and won’t give up easily.

My legs going to sleep so I shift slightly from the crouched position I have maintained for too long and settle on the cushion of dry moss covering the ground. Its aroma fills my nostrils with the promise of mushrooms. Hmmm, mushroom soup! I wish we could make some but having a fire here would give us away immediately. Maybe later…

‘Hey, don’t get distracted. They are close!’

Indiana’s whisper comes from my left, where he lies hidden among the ferns.

I take a look through the curtain of greenery and see that he is right. The bandit chieftain stomps along a wide path only a few metres from our little nook. His stride is confident, he isn’t even trying to hide. I hold my breath until he disappears.

Then the bandit is gone and I start breathing again. The wilderness around us is teeming with life. Thick lianas hang wrapped around giant trees. Exotic flowers spread their rainbow petals in every nook and cranny, spreading heady scents. High above us, ancient conifers reach towards the sun but here, close to the ground, we sit in the dusky gloom speckled with occasional spots of brightness when the breeze sways the foliage. Monkeys howl in the distance. A single butterfly rests on a large leaf nearby but flutters away as soon as I reach out in an attempt to touch it.

I grab my satchel and produce the food stolen from the bandits’ den. It’s a good thing that I've managed to grab it before we escaped. A rumbling stomach can be dangerous when enemies are trying to trace you down. I glance at my companion questioningly but he shakes his head. The man seems to be able to go without food for days. I won’t admit it but I’m grateful. Our provisions are not enough for two.

I bite into a thick slice of bread, then take a chunk of the hard cheese. A drink would be welcome to wash it all down but we have no water. Maybe, if we wait until dusk, we will be able to leave our hiding place and look for the river. For now, we can only make ourselves comfortable on the moss and stay as silent as possible. I can’t see it from here but the sun should be setting already.

‘Mark!’

The woman’s voice comes from far away but I would recognise it anywhere. The Princess!

‘Mark, where are you?’

The bandits must have captured her. Indiana and I look at each other in horror. My thoughts start spinning. There is no doubt that we should save the Princess from these brutes. They must be torturing her. She’s calling for help! What a clever ploy to make us come out of hiding. Of course it’s a trap. But how can we leave her in the hands of these vile beasts?

‘I’m sorry, friend.’ Indiana pats my shoulder with sympathy. ‘Remember about our mission.’

Oh, right. The mission. We came here for the infamous Cursed Urn, the ancient artifact that can change the fate of the world. Many valiant explorers have been looking for it in vain. But we were the lucky ones. Last month, we got word from a trusted informant. In a coded letter, he disclosed the location of a shrine hidden in the Amazon jungle, where the Cursed Urn was allegedly kept by a group of unscrupulous bandits. Their fearsome chieftain had a plan of using the artifact to gain power over the rest of the humanity. We had to hurry.

We did our best to organise the expedition as quickly as possible, but the bandits were faster. When we arrived, the informant was dead. We found him in his house, drowned in his own tub.

Based on the hints contained in the letter, we spent a few weeks wandering in the jungle, looking for the shrine. Eventually, luck was on our side. We stumbled upon the place almost by accident and managed to sneak inside under the cover of darkness. It took us all night to cut through the maze of corridors and brave the intricate traps. Finally, we lifted the Urn from its pedestal in a dark underground cavern and took off, chased by the crowd of unshaven miscreants. We managed to get away and hide in the jungle but they are still in pursuit and won't be shaken off easily. It is imperative to get the Cursed Urn to the scientists in London though. They are the only ones who can lift the curse and save the world from danger for good.

I sigh heavily. I can see the Cursed Urn beside me, glinting in the last light of the day. What is the significance one life compared to the gravity of our mission? Even if it is the life of my beloved Princess. We cannot risk getting caught. The bandits would drown us in exactly the same way they did away with our old informant. We've come this far and success is so close, we only we need to reach our canoes…

‘There you are!’

A towering figure appears out of nowhere, and strong arms scoop me upwards before I have time to react. A large, stubbly face glares at me with furrowed brows. I gasp in horror.

‘Argh, the chieftain! Help! Indiana, help!’

The bandit grins unpleasantly. I am held tight, with no chance to wriggle out of the big man’s grasp.

‘Calm down, Mark. Haven’t you heard Mum calling you earlier? Time for your bath, boy!’

‘No! Not the bath! Indiana! Help me, my friend!’

‘Game over, pal. Look at you, dirt all over your face and hands! Look at your clothes! You’re going straight to the tub and no imaginary friend will help you now. Remember how Mum told you not to play here by the hedge? You’ve trampled the daffodils again. And what is her best crystal vase doing here? Oh, man, you’re in trouble if she finds out.’

He shakes his head in disappointment and it’s only then that I remember. She did tell me not to play here. I completely forgot about the daffodils.

‘Sorry, Dad. Can we just put the vase back on the shelf? Please, don’t tell Mom...’

I have to find a different hideout tomorrow.