A Death In the Jungle

Just wondered if anyone could give me some criticism on this, it's not fully finished but getting there.

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1

Keller's plane crashed down in the evening, killing the pilot instantly and rendering Keller himself unconscious. At dawn, he awoke. He surveyed the scene around him, rubbing his sore head. The surroundings weren't easy to make out because his eyes hurt as though he hadnt used them before. This confused his poor head as much as the crash had hurt it. Gradually, colours came through the fuzz. Green, lots of it, and brown too. Long brown stalks with splotches of green at the top. A thin, swaying layer of green on the floor. Then, as vision got clearer, yellows, reds and blues came though. They were a welcome substitute for the initial dark fuzziness. Plants of many colours were spread everywhere, injecting extra colour in places that needed it. Keller could see spinning vines wrapped round huge, wet trees. Astonished, he realised he must be in a jungle.

Keller had never been in a jungle, so he was at a loss to explain how it worked. Where in the world was this one situated? Should he wait for someone to find him or go and get food, shelter? Would anyone even look for him? The pilot was a man of the world and he knew a lot about many things. He would have had jungle knowledge, no doubt. But he was dead. Keller would have to find things out for himself. He carefully crawled to the entrance of the plane, his hands like feelers padding the floor.

He was at the plane door now and standing up he could look out of its little circular window. Reluctancy set in when he thought of leaving the plane. It was his haven, it seemed safe. The jungle, although lit by dawn light, was dark and unknown; it seemed to him a stranger who made no effort for aquantance. Furthermore, Keller didn't know what he was supposed to actually do when he did leave the plane. There was just something there at the back of his mind that said he had to leave. It felt like a large boot loomed behind him, ready to kick him unprepared into the jungle.

He resolved to step step into the jungle a little, dip his feet in it. This scared him, but he felt better knowing he had made a decision. Now he had to make his exit. The plane door in fornt of him was meant for 1 person at a time. It was slightly ajar, probably knocked out of closed position by the crash. When the plane had smashed into the earth the door lock had shattered and the violent vibrations had opened the door like contractions. Keller still found the door stiff and difficult to open. He strained against the metal, felt his face turn red and heat up. An anger began to rise up in him in reaction to the doors reluctance. Putting great physical effort into things always frustrated him, more so when little results were gained. It was past the point where he could stop trying now though, he was worked up too much. Pushing with all his energy, he had to get this door open. His face boiled, he shouted profanities and angry cries at the indifferent sheet of metal. The damn door would open! It seemed to keller that fate intervened, as the door creaked open an inch. From that more ground was easily gained and the door soon flew open, spilling keller onto the jungle floor.

Now he struggled against his own instincts. The jungle looked mysterious and its dim light leant an eerie atmosphere to everything. He couldn't see anything visibly threateneing, yet he was scared nontheless. It felt as though something he couldn't see breathed hot air onto his face in the dark. Now on the soft floor of the jungle he was completely alone. If he was to stand in a jungle at all, decided Keller, he should have been doing it with a guide. That damn pilot, his job was to help keller, not leave him on his own in the jungle!

2

Although where the plane had crashed was clear of trees, the rest of the landscape was dense with them. Keller stood in the middle of a valley of sweaty trees. The air was very hot and wet, making any movement uncomfortable. Keller couldn't even lift his arm to scratch his nose without his head throbbing in the heat. Noises came from all sides around him but the noisy things were hiding. They sounded like insects mostly with the occasional bird call mixed in. Keller had a perpetual fear of insects and so shuddered at their horrible creaks and whirrs. The squawks of the birds were vaguely familiar at least. He'd never seen a threatening bird.

He didn't know what direction to go in at first, so he sat on a rock and looked around him. It seemed that to know where to go he needed to know why he was going there. This was something he didn't know himself. What do you do when you crash land in a jungle? The pilot, had the damn man been alive, would have told him. With his jungle knowledge and naturalistic tendencies he would have guided them both. Keller needed a hand on his shoulder. He needed the plane to fix itself and carry him out of the jungle like it was supposed to have done. But both the plane and the pilot had failed him in their duties. He spat on the jungle floor, feeling angry.

With his limited nature knowledge of no obvious use to him, Keller thought it best that he let his instinct dictate what he needed to do. He realised he wasn't hungry, sleepy or cold. This left water and shelter from the heat the only things he needed. He'd sort them out and then look at drawing attention to himself in case any planes passed by. Missing one would be a disaster, he'd be stuck in the jungle scared shitless on his own. Resolutely, he stood up and started walking. Heading into a dense part of the trees, Keller felt proud he had made a resolute decision.

As soon as he left his clearing and stepped into the trees Keller felt the atmosphere change. The air thickened, became more stifling. Oxygen came only reluctantly into his lungs and he felt he had to tease it out of the air. The animal screeches got louder and were directed at him. He felt like when he walked into a crowded bar full of strangers and couldn't spot any oif his friends around. His chest tightened and he thought longingly about the plane. The smooth, metallic insides were safe like a womb and he wished himself back there. The cockpit especially was small, enclosed, secure. He even thought of it as snug. Why had he left the plane? It had all the nourishment he'd need for the time being; bottled water, canned food. By leaving it he'd been an idiot!

He turned round, resolved to go back to his plane. The clearing was already too far behind him. It had been replaced in his line of vision by a wall of trees and now his safe haven, the plane, and his guide, the pilot, were gone. He thought wistfully about the pilot's body slumped over his seat. Might there not have been a little bit of life left in it? Should Keller have left the plane so quickly? It was true he had taken the pilots pulse and detected nothing, but maybe he could have shaken the pilot, stirred up the life in him! He was Kellers guide. He was stronger than Keller, cleverer, more experienced. If Keller had survived the crash then why hadn't the pilot?

He didn't know how long he had been walking, and he'd taken a few turns in direction. Just turning round and walking in the direction that faced him wouldn't take him back to the plane, he was sure of that. Only thing was, the whole damn jungle looked the same! He missed the face of the pilot. He recognised nothing around him, it seemed just a circle of trees and vines. He had an urge to hold someone's hand, even wanted his father here with him. He'd been a fool to even step on the plane in the first place! Tears formed in his eyes and he fully believed his parents, friends and every human being were lost to him.

Desperatley needing something to hold on to, he remembered the goals he'd set out. Water and shelter. Shelter was the plane, where the pilot was. And now that was gone. An incredible thirst was building up in his throat, and he resolved to find water. Grief mixed with Keller's fear and produced a panicky mix of energy. He picked up his pace just short of a run, leaving tree after tree and vine after vine behind him as he searched for water. With every metre he gained the jungle sucked him in further, with every step he took it inched closer behind them. This was becoming another enclosed space, different to the plane cockpit in its nature. The metal of the cockpit had seemed safe. Sounds of beasts still cried out and seemed nearer; shapes took form in the corner of his vision. Vines pointed at him ,alerting enemies to where he was. The trees bunched together to give darkness, the perfect cover for something to overpower him.

3
He sprinted through the jungle like a deer away from a predator, in his mind a tiger had burst after him through the jungle. Its snarly mouth was only inches behind. The vines parted as he juggernauted through them, his running could only be described as a kind of panicked bravery. Anything in front of him submitted to the weight of his boots as he ran from what might be behind. In front of him the clearing became visable, shone out like a light tower in the terrible tangle of trees.

The plane door slammed behind him and he slumped against the wall. His breath returned as he began to feel a sense of safety. The plane was inpenetrable in his mind. In here there was no mess, no unknown variables. Just steel walls and a steel floor, food he'd brought with him for the journeyand his luggage that had been bought from shops he'd been in many times. Out there, beyond the plane, was a menacing mess of trees he'd never seen with snake-like vines dripping off them. Animals were out there too; that was a fact. There hadn't been any sign of them yet but they were there nonetheless, waiting for him to take one step too far into the jungle.

Keller remembered back when he was a kid he'd had his own jungle. It was only at the back of his garden, but a seven year old can turn anything into anything. Past his back porch, over the stone tiles, the grass came up to his waist. His father had never been bothered to cut it, leaving garden duties to his mother who was an enthusiast. She had mowed the grass, uprooted weeds and tiled the garden with concrete stepping stones. She'd moved the heavy blocks herself, quite a feat for a 10 stone woman. Halfway throguh though, she had stopped. At this time she took to locking herself in her room, getting up only for hysterical fits. His father was always quiet about it. Mother was ill, but she would get better soon he'd told Keller. This is how half the garden was perfectly groomed and in the other half wild grass grow up to Kellers belly. In the middle of this grass was a massive oak tree, it had sprouted there on a whim probably 100 years ago. Keller didn't know exactly when. It was utterly unscalableand despite many frustrating attempts Keller could only manage halfway. When he did get halfway though he could see garden totally, the small grass jungle didn't seem so uncontrollable anymore. He used to like pretending he was tarzan sat up there, but the seven year old didn't know what the uncut grass meant.

A loud crash coming from the jungle snapped him to attention. It could have been any manner of wild beast and the fear of it shook Keller's body. He needed a safe, enclosed space and he needed to hide. The cockpit was to his left.He dived madly over it, making for the left hand side to avoid the pilots corpse. Ducked under the control panel, his tension eased. Then a horrible feeling rushed from his stomach up to his head and his eyes widened in shock.

The pilot's body was gone.

4
The cockpit doors were jammed, so nothing could have gotten out of them. There was only the door that Keller had been using, and he doubted the pilot's corpse would find it easy to climb out of the cockpit to reach it. The window of the cockpit had a hole smashed through it in the crash and it was big enough for a body. Its jagged glass had tiny snacks of flesh stuck to it and blood stained the glass like red whine. It was through this whole the body had got out, then. Keller sat staring in confusion. How had it got through the hole? Best to start at the basics. The pilot was either dead or alive. Alive, no sane man would crawl through the glass and inflict so much pain on himself. Dead it probably wouldn't matter. If the pilot really was just a corpse then something had dragged him through the hole. At this Keller felt so much panic he could hardly keep hold of a single thought. They just flashed throguh him, pictures of the body being dragged by wolves, pictures of the wolves violently tearing at it with their teeth, then an image of the wolves surrounding Keller.

He dashed out of the plane, his fear of the beasts momentarily forgotton in the wake of his alarmed curiosity. Padding round to the frong of the plane, he didn't even look at the jungle stretching round him. Only one thing mattered at the moment. It was amazing how fears could be forgotton when a person's interest was piqued! The cockpit hole looked the same on the outside as on the inside, except mirrored. Whereas on the inside he looked out onto danger, now he looked in onto safetly. Was the plane even that safe any more though? Something had gotten in and dragged the pilot off for carrion. The key, thought keller, was discovering where the body had been dragged to. Then he would go in the opposite direction. It made sense that if you identify danger you know where not to go, and with that you have an idea where you should go.

Luckily, smears of blood were on the front of the plane. They sloped off it and onto the jungle floor in a definate direction and then stopped near the trees. There obviously wasn't enough blood to leave a complete trail. Keller cursed the congealing process, feeling not revulsion at the defiling of the pilots body but thankfullness. His fears were part indentified and now they lost their mystique. If it was wolves, he had a chance of killing them. They were barely more than wild dogs, after all. As long as he thought of them that way he wouldn't be as scared.

He gathered his things hurriedly, jamming them in his rucksack. Five bottles of water, some sanwiches, two cans of beans and 3 bars of chocolate would be his provisions. He stuffed a torch and some matches in a side pocket and wrapped the planes flare gun in his sleeping bag. Then, thinking only of getting help, he set off into the jungle. His direction was the exact opposite of where the pilot had left the plane.



5
Keller was eight now and the wild grass at the back of the garden reached up to his neck. The front of it that used to be so pristine was a mess. The stone pavings were becoming covered with weeds, they had sprouted up and reched over the stone, hiding his mother's hard work. Keller didn't know if his mother still thought of the garden. On his visits to her she never mentioned it. She only asked him about school and his friends and listen to his answers with a dreamy look on her face. She never asked about his father and Keller never mentioned him. He didn't understand what had happened between the two, but he knew enough not to mention it. It seemed an unspoken fact it was his father's fault she was in the institution.


Without her, their home was in disarray. His father had become a man of two dispositions; dotage and neglect. He left Keller to wash his own clothes and make his own food for days on end. Then, when Keller was in bed falling asleep, the door would open and his father would stand there in front of a rectangle of light. He would ask him about school and his friends but unlike his mother would listen intently, patting Keller on the arm occasionly. "I'll be here for you more", he'd always promise, "but I just have problems to fix first. It'll be okay soon, son". Keller learnt to distrust what his father said and grew up as his own parents.


Every day after school he'd return home to mess. He'd clean things up the best he could, but him being an eight year old meant it was still chaos. He felt strained and alone, his father coming in and out of his life like wind blowing through the trees. Keller spent his youth sitting at the back of his garden watching the wild grass sway with regular rythm.

6


Once again he was walking in the jungle, but it was dark now. He had been going in circles for the past few hours, mentally and physically. Skipping from plane to jungle, fear to resolution, the day light had been wasted. He wished so much for the light he'd already lost now that darkness began to mix with the evening sky. It seemed to him indecision had been his downfall,that and naivety. The pilot would have acted in the opposite way, Keller was sure. The way to work in this jungle was be to think like the pilot, place himself in his shoes. Assuming a confident, resolute air he walked on.

To someone not used to it, all of the jungle looked the same. One plant was the same as another, one tree only different from another in its shape. To someone who spent a lot of time there, the shrubbery cried out in its individuality. Small differences like a darker brown shade of bark were personality traits and these differences were what made that particular tree whole, much like personality makes the person. To Keller, though, it was just one tree after another. He didn't notice anything different until the landscape made its dramatic change.

He came to a mini-cliff about 20 foot high. Its rocky walls were a brick-colored brown and had many ledges. In front of it lay a dark pool of water, still and with leaves floating on the top. Insects buzzed above, not distubing the waters surface but creating a sense of life around it. Apart from the insects, there seemed to be nothing living. Keller marched forward, intending to make a curve round the pool. He didn't want to be anywhere near the insects. Looking up at the mini-clifftop, he saw a figure crouched. His imagination could have been turning shadows into life again, but the figure straightened. Its form was that of a man, but tree shadows made it impossible to pick out details. Keller's curiosity was pricked to an unbelievable point, the possibility of human contact rushed a tense sense of joy to his stomach. He broke into a run toward the cliff, not caring about the insects.

"Hey!" he cried out.

The figure turned to him and swiftly ran over the cliff top, out of sight.