Green Rush

Pain lanced through her leg, a perfect companion to her panic. It was a harsh, rough , and exhausting feeling, tearing away at her reason. All around her the jungle was alive with watchfulness, wary of her path and actions. Even the thick, waxy leaves that she shoved aside in her haste were abuzz with curiosity.

It was amazing, the depth and sensitivity that was achieved within the foreign world around her. The ground was damp and vine covered; the thick, grasping vines a hassle to anyone not born in the intensely humid region. Strange animals with bright eyes were common, hiding with surprising deftness among the tall trees. Even the sunlight was exotic, murky, and rare where it peeked through the wide, canopied sky.

Her legs were terrifyingly weak, but she kept on pushing them. Danger leaped and bounded behind her in the form of a panther. It’s long, elegant limbs swallowing up the ground in attempts to reach her. Glowing eyes, vicious, unkind, and unforgiving trailed her path with an expert’s ability. It tracked with a veteran’s skill, cool in pursuit.

Even as she ran she cursed her own luck. It was she who had fallen into the trap. It was she who had attracted the attention of her hunter. She who had struggled in her demise, deepening the slashes on her legs, weakening herself further.

It was beginning to seem hopeless to her, this maddening race. She was racing for her life, adrenaline pounding through her veins. Her attacker was racing for a meal, pure hunger glinting in each move. Even the surrounding plant life seemed to hamper her actions. Vines pulled at her heavy, mangles boots, but seemed not to touch the panther. Weakley, crusty branches snarled with her hair, and yet, they shrunk away from her pursuer.

A steep, but short hill propelled her forward with hidden intention in it’s purpose. It flung her far faster, nearly throwing her to her already battered knees. Cursing, she straightened her neck to look up, but her heart did not beat at the glimpses of silky blue sky.

She had found salvation.

It was a research center, obviously abandoned by the amount of greenery creeping up it’s sides. The jungle was famous for it’s determination in retaking territory that had been stolen from it. And here was a fine example.

Many of the windows were cracked, some with vines sliding inside. The roof was slowly crumbling along the edges, weakened by a combination of fallen branches and green rot. Moss and mold encroached whole sections of the walls, as if to draw the building into itself. It looked like a flimsy protectorate, but her one relief was that the door seemed blessedly solid. Trees towered on either side, commanding and shadowy. But that was little relief. Her attacker was covered in ebony fur, and now nearly impossible to see.

To her dismay, the door refused to close. It had swung open easily enough under her hands, but was now useless. At least, now she was able to run freely. The grave concrete floor was much more suited to her boots than a predator’s claws. All around her stood stern wooden doors, all locked except for one. It lead to several flights of stairs which she sprinted up in the desperate hope that the panther would either be unwilling to or unable to, brave the stairs.

The end of the climb left her muscles feeling soft and unresponsive. Even as she gratefully stumbled into open air on the roof she knew it was all coming to an end. There was nowhere else to go and she was exhausted. If she had been followed, the only way off the roof was the door she had just come through, and that would be guarded. And if she did make it back through, there was no way she could get down the stairs without falling and loosing the race.

All around her the world pulsed with anxiety, a kind of awareness that seeped into her bones. Though life was abundant to all sides of the building, everything was quiet on the roof. It was playing with her, she realized, trying hard to slow down the beating of her heart. Anxiety and fear creeping through the careful barriers she had constructed around the organ.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The head peered out, eyes alight with amusement. Her first scream in years burst out as it takes a playful swipe at her. It had been a purposeful miss. She backed up on trembling legs, her hands shaking and unable to grasp anything. It began to stalk her, a stealthy, smooth flow on the ground. AT this moment, she realized something that doused her brain in cold water.

The eyes were human. An intellect far surpassing that of any regular panther shown in its eyes. Reason was apparent, and she suddenly knew how it had managed to follow her in the building so well. It had been an experiment in one of the rooms beneath her.

Now that it was so frighteningly close, she could see the tiny, half-broken tag on one ear. The viciousness it demonstrated could only by born of cruelty. Just like the human soul glittering coldly in its eyes.

She could see, however, that neither the animal or the human within it cared to let her live. Even as she realized this it continued to advance and swipe at her. More purposeful misses. She was the mouse.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

A quick look alerted her to the fact that the unbarred edge of the roof was alarmingly near. Soon she was completely trapped. A perilous fall to the back and gleaming claws at her front. Feral teeth were revealed in a cruel, hungry, feline smile. There was no messing around now.

.Thud.

Time slowed, then sped up as it lunged, ready to taste her rich blood. One automatic step backward, and she was gone, missing the claws by inches, but falling, air rushing past her. Tearing at her clothes, her hair, her hope.

The fall, to her mind, seemed to take forever, though the black drip of depression and panic quickly encompassed her. Air whistled past her ears, ferocious in sound, while vines slid through her grip. And then she hit something. But not ground, but a person. A person that did not move beneath her. One solitary groan escaped her lips, for she was too drained to try to move, and she, predictably, blacked out.

When she woke, her head was pillowed on a soft pelt. Unconsciously, her weak fingers began to stroke the fur beneath her, and a contented purr sounded close to her ear. It startled her badly, and drove home the desperation of her situation.

With a terrified effort, she turned her head to the side, afraid to see the almost inhuman anger and hate.

But she was intensely surprised when all that met her gaze was a great amount of curiosity, gentleness, and protectiveness. Another human mind Even with all such pleasant emotions present, wariness tinged the outermost corners of it’s eyes. Though she registered the nonviolent feelings, her reaction was still that of panic and fear. Given her very recent experience, it was logically unsurprising that she scrambled off the beast, only to stumble on unready muscles and fall ungraciously into a heap.

Amusement of a kinder variety over shadowed everything else with such a level of comfort in it that she wanted to smile. It was ludicrous, the amount of safety she felt. Even when it stood up in a velvety manner and padded over to her she refused to even blink.

It was starring into her eyes when her attacker appeared, stalking out of the shadows. Her panther turned, assuming a defensive stance before her.

As they clashed, her heart sped up again, tired as it was. It was a sight she had never asked to see.

Carnage. Gleaming teeth, bared and fierce. Razor claws. The tearing of supple skin. The acrobatically twisting of prime bodies. Growls of rage in futile attempts to intimidate.

ThudThudThud.

One last attack. A final attempt for both of them. Even as blood gushed and wounds gaped, they would not let go of a fight. Honor demanded that it be finished. The low of the jungle demanded it.

ThudThudThud.

But then it was over, as quickly as it had begun. And she could hardly believe that her hunter, her pursuer, her villain, could be vanquished so easily. Rising in itself was a grand feat, but once accomplished, she began to step toward her champion.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

He was breathing heavily, but seemed uncaring for the hideous slashed on his velvety sides. Once she was close enough to touch, her breath caught. His long, sultry tongue slipped out to stroke one small cut on her hand protectively.

THE END

Note – As you can probably tell, this is another story in my ‘Strong Woman’ series. This one is set in a modern day jungle. Perhaps Brazil. I really like the certain parts of it, but others just seem unsatisfying to me. So, comments and constructive criticism please!!!

Thanks!
Late March