Chapter 5 (Adam Novus Chronicles - Book 1)

The sound of the jungle woke me up. A fierce and loud roar of some unseen predator made all wildlife in it make some noise in response. A deafening rumble of the waterfall, and the splashing of the river on the bank where I was lying, were constant. It was surprising that all the racket didn’t bother me at all in my exhausted sleep.

It was night, the full moon made everything visible, much better than the glow-worms illumination I was used to using by now. However, something was wrong with me, my head was swimming in a numbing fog, as one would feel after five or fifteen too many. Considering where I’ve been, there was a strong possibility that some strange, exotic disease had entered my system, and was now having a ball messing me up.

Standing up was not much easier than when I woke up on that altar, groggy, and punch drunk. In spite of it, my situation was a whole lot better. I was on the surface, alive, and still very much naked. As I said, I am not one of those people who appreciate the breeze between my legs; it is annoying, and a thousand plants in this environment tend to grow thorns; one does not want something sharp anywhere near that region. Unfortunately, making a grass skirt was not in the repertoire of my skills, so I would have to endure the discomfort.

I started to walk, in no particular direction; putting one foot after the other, enjoying on some level the various smells of this place. It would not be a complete truth to say that the jungle smells nice, in reality—it stinks; despite that, I was somewhat sensory deprived for a long time during my stroll along those underground tunnels, so any change was more than welcomed.

At some point, the realization that I didn’t have a map, compass, or GPS to guide my way, did cross my mind. I had no idea where I actually was, which meant that I could walk for months before encountering civilization. Moreover, there were still tribes in the Amazon Jungle that liked nothing better than to kill all trespassers on their land, just on general principle. Encountering them could diminish one's positive outlook on life.

I must have walked for some time, and that fog in my head grew thicker. I think the sun had come up once or twice, but I could not be sure, everything was hazy and lucid thoughts were few and far in-between. I ate some things, grubs and such, but those were almost instinctual actions; in my zombie-like state, I was not thinking rationally. There was this hunger inside of me that refused to be sated, and it didn’t feel like a regular sort of hunger… it was somehow much deeper.

The jungle was so thick, the amount of light that reached the ground was negligible, thus my uncertainty of the exact passage of time, combined with the haze that clouded my mind.

I know that the moon was high in the sky when I sensed… something. It would be hard to explain what it was, but something inside me was pulling in one particular direction; like being drawn by a magnet… I knew exactly where to go.

That fog grew thinner, allowing me to rationalize a bit more. As I walked, the pull got stronger, and I could feel it in every part of my body.

It did not take long to come to the exact place where that pull was coming from, and then things got… weirder?

At first, I heard the voices, laughing, and talking aloud. My body automatically adjusted to ‘sneak walk’. That is how we called that particular way of movement, learned from an old Indian tracker back in the training. The trick to not make any noise was paying attention to where your foot would touch the ground, and bend your body to go through the spaces between tree branches and shrubs, as a snake would.

In no time, I’d managed to sneak closer, and from behind the concealing foliage, I saw three men. Judging by the situation—they were not friends. Somewhat obvious as one of them was securely tied to a big tree, while two others were standing in front of his bound body, taunting him.

“You thought we would be an easy prey; how do you feel now, o’ ancient one?” One man said and then spit in the face of his tied victim. That was simply disgusting; I understand slitting one's throat, that at least is an action that has a specific function, but spitting is so… unhygienic. Although, I was here standing naked in the freaking jungle, and my odor, acquired over the last few days of walking through this green hell, would make a skunk run away in disgust.

The tied man hauntingly sneered, as if this entire situation was somehow beneath him. Even tied down with bloody wounds all over his body, he managed to project a sense of superiority, a stoic stubbornness that told me he would never break, never plead for his life. I managed to get all that in a few seconds of watching the strange scene unfolding before me. But that pull got stronger, it was something deep inside me, a hunger…, and an all-consuming need. I could not just stand there and watch from the shadows, no more than I could order the moon to escape the Earth’s orbit. I started walking towards them, into a dangerous situation… My self-preservation instinct was silenced by that overpowering hunger.

Well, sometimes ‘you gotta do what you gotta do’.

The two men were facing away from me, and the tied one was turned directly in my direction; that is why he saw me first. His eyes grew slightly bigger, and his head weakly moved from side to side; as though he was silently telling me not to approach. Yet, it was too late; the other two somehow sensed my presence and turned to face me. The tied man uttered his first word since I came here.

“Run!” he yelled.

It did not matter, his warning, that is; there was no way for me to fight the pull, the overpowering need. The faces of two men broke into happy grins.

“A dinner approaches, I don't remember we ordered in,” the first one said with an evil smirk on his lips. The kind you want to erase with a punch in the face.

There was something strange about them, their eyes shone oddly under the pale moonlight, and their teeth were all wrong. The canines were way too elongated, looking very sharp and vicious. For a moment I thought about what idiotic lengths some people would go to play out their fantasies.

The predatory gazes in their eyes were that of hungry wolves stalking prey. One of them moved, not as an ordinary person should move, but unnaturally fast, coming toward me. Then it happened, the closer he came, the slower he advanced—at least that is how I saw it. As if some switch got flipped, time itself slowed down, while something in me… rejoiced.

There he was, a creature that considered me his prey. I could tell what he was feeling, knowing that those were not my emotions, but coming from him… weird on a stick.

Just as he was reaching with his arms to grab me, I moved, not away but towards him. It was instinctual, as I knew what he meant to me, the only thing he could be—my kill, my sustenance.

My left hand reached for his throat and stopped his head that was aiming for my neck, mouth widened and sharp teeth glistening. My other hand was at his chest level… holding a knife, the very same knife I last saw in that cave, when I grabbed it and lost consciousness. Now, just the hilt could be seen, the blade was already inside of him, piercing his heart.

Time stopped altogether; a single moment stretched to infinity. I could see it in his eyes, the realization that he was nothing; a mouse in front of a lion—insignificant.

A torrent of energy was entering my body, right through that knife and the hand holding it. It was like drinking water after suffering an eternal thirst, like the first gulp of fresh air after holding your breath for far too long. It came into me in a torrent, draining everything he had. The light in his eyes was dimming, and soon I sensed that he had nothing else to give; he was now no more than an empty shell.

I… I felt more alive than ever. This was night and day compared to how I felt a few seconds ago. The fog, which filled my head ever since I woke up in the cave, disappeared. I could feel that my body was full of energy and vigor—there was nothing I couldn’t do.

It would be safe to say that I was a little high on whatever that was. I know because it was something we tried during training; the effect and body’s response to almost every drug imaginable. That was a fun week, so I intimately understand junkies and why they are forever chasing the feeling of that first high.

Then the time resumed its forward motion and the body in front of me fell to the ground, but his friend was almost on top of me. He bowled me over when he jumped, but it did not matter, I gave him the same treatment as his friend received. He didn’t have time to get his bearings before I plunged the black blade into his chest, straight to his heart. The feeling this time wasn’t the same; oh, there was that energy transfer, and sensation of wellness, but not the same as that first time, much weaker. Missing was the feeling of overwhelming rush, of the universe skipping a beat. It wasn’t bad by all means, but if the first one was like a good pricey wine, this one was comparable to a boxed one bought in a dollar store. The same glassy look in his eyes replaced the awareness that was there a moment ago. That was it for this one too; same as his friend—he was a goner.

I stood up from the dead body at my feet, looking confused. What the hell just happened? Were these two what I think they were? But that was impossible, I never believed these things were real; then again, my belief system was stretched pretty far recently.

OK, maybe they were simply two freaks enjoying a little cosplay in the jungle? Hey, there are all kinds of weirdos in the world, I am not judging. And that was a perfectly logical explanation. But something was telling me that my gut feeling was right, regardless of what the logical side of my brain was negating.

What I was sure about was that I had just killed two people in a span of a few seconds. OK, it was not the first time in my life that I had to do that, but these two kills were by far the strangest ones.

Looking behind me, the tied guy was still where I saw him first, not that he could move tied up in more rope than was possibly needed to secure him. He was looking at me with wide eyes and not a small amount of fear. I started to walk in his direction; his face composed itself, awaiting the end. I could feel there was no animosity in him, the same way I could sense that those two others wanted me dead. That’s another thing, since when did I become a psychic?

He has accepted the fact that he would die now, stoically and resolutely; there was a sense of sorrow for leaving someone dear to him behind. Yep, a psychic; So… a career as a circus act was now an option.

I stopped in front of him, studying him with all my senses. This was getting a bit weird, and socially uncomfortable; I was still butt naked after all and should say something to break the ice. God forbid that he starts thinking I am some sort of a jungle perv.

“Excuse me,” I began, “Do you know the way out of this jungle? I’m getting really sick and tired of it.”

OK, maybe not the best way to start the conversation, and certainly not what he was expecting. He looked at me incredulously, as if I was some raving lunatic. I couldn’t blame him; in his place, I would've looked at me in the exact same way.

“Ahem...” He cleared his throat, and then slowly nodded. “As a matter of fact, I do… would you mind untying me first?”

There, no reason two people couldn’t have a civilized conversation, despite the odd circumstances of their encounter. I looked at my hand expecting to see the black knife, but it wasn’t there. Must have lost it during the struggle, not that I understood how it appeared in my hand in the first place. I was positive I didn’t carry it all the way from the pyramid cave.

I went to the two bodies and liberated a knife strapped to the first one’s belt. Returning to the tied man, I could see his eyes flicker towards the knife in my hand, but he was perfectly calm about it. Not a trace of apprehension… how peculiar. Even more so was a fact that I was starting to use this psychic sense all the time, trying to discern what he was feeling.

Cutting the rope, I had to hold him from falling down; his ordeal at the hands of the two stiffs left him a little weak.

“Thank you,” he politely said. “Now, if you will excuse me, I need to do something in the woods,” he continued, giving me a polite smile.

Managing to stand on his two feet and then unsteadily walk away, he disappeared into the dark jungle. Oh well, maybe he will return, the torture must have been hard on his digestive system, and even bears like to have a little privacy. In the meantime, I decided to improve my situation a bit.

Robbing the dead may be frowned upon in some societies, but I couldn’t care less about the social taboos at the moment. First, the pants and boots, which were miraculously in my size. It felt wonderful, to be dressed again, covered from the unforgiving sharp prickly vines.

Interestingly enough, there were no scars, scrapes, or scabs on my body. There should have been, that river was not kind to my flesh, and I must have found every sharp thorn this jungle had to provide, on my way here.

I managed to build a small fire, using the magnesium fire starter from one of my victim’s pockets. It felt so good, the warmth of a fire on my face, I missed it so much. Oh, and there was no sight of the black knife, and I checked everywhere, double weird.

Not long after, a slight noise alerted me that someone was approaching. My eyes focused in that direction and I could see that the man was returning. Still a bit pale but looking much healthier and stronger than when he left, and carrying a carcass of a white-tailed deer over his shoulders. The weird thing was that I saw him from a long way, and by now, my night vision should have been ruined by the fire I had been staring at for the past few minutes.

“I have already eaten, but you can help yourself,” he said, placing the carcass beside the fire.

Those words were echoing in my head, but something I completely blocked out came back with a vengeance… hunger. Not that weird kind of need that brought me to this place, but the regular kind. The one you feel waiting in a line of a fast food joint when your stomach is trying to tell you that it is starving and that you may not make it until your turn comes.

I don’t remember eating anything for days, while I was underground; and a few grubs on the way here could hardly call themselves a meal. My stomach was making loud noises, demanding to be filled immediately.

I used the knife I claimed from a dead guy and attacked the carcass. Slashing the stomach open and reaching for the treasure inside—the liver. I don’t need to cook that, African tribesmen have been eating it raw for ages; the fresh deer sushi was perfectly fine.

The man had a slight feeling of disgust aimed towards me, not that I would blame him. There I was, kneeling over a dead deer, and trying to stuff my face with still-warm liver… blood running down my chin. The texture was slimy and gritty, with a strong coppery taste, but my body demanded nutrients. It was the best meal I ever had; I think there were a few tears of joy mixed with that blood.

After that first pang of hunger was sated, I realized that I was behaving like an animal. Therefore, I used water from the dead men’s canteen to clean myself a little, and rummaged through their backpacks, until I found a clean shirt that would fit me. I was still hungry though, just not ravenous, so I cut two nice pieces of meat from the deer and placed them on huge skewers over the fire. I needed more meat than that liver my stomach was happily digesting right now.

The man used that time to make himself more presentable, by using several wet wipes he took from his backpack. Then he sat by the fire, resting after (what must have been) an unpleasant day.

“My name is Adam,” I said, looking at him over the flames, while my body was once again soaking the warmth.

He nodded. “Marcus, pleased to meet you,” his speech was cultured, educated. “I owe you my life,” he continued after a brief pause.

I took a long look at him and got the same sense as the two dead men; some strange, unearthly feeling.

“You are like them, aren't you?”

“Yes, I am what people call a vampire, a bloodsucker, and similar designations, not that books and movies got everything right. But what is really puzzling me is… what are you?” He asked, looking at me as if he was trying to solve a mystery.

“Me? I am just a regular human,” I replied, still trying to wrap my head around the fact that vampires were real. I mean, I knew that some things that I encountered during my career were out of the sphere of the ordinary. There are people out there with some extrasensory perception; psychics, and mediums that were often employed by the military for their talents. Hell, that same military had a program that was aimed at training soldiers to kill with their thoughts… by staring at goats… I know, crazy.

Still, one can’t be in my line of work and not realize that there are many more unexplainable mysteries in this world than people would ever admit. There were also a few supernatural stories I heard, passed through the grapevine, but never anything concrete, tangible; something I could believe in because I witnessed it personally. Well, I was seeing someone tangible right now.

That was the first time I heard him laugh. “Trust me, brother, you may be many things, but a human you are not. I know humans, and many other creatures too, but I’ve never seen the likes of you,” he said, shaking his head.

“Oh…” I intelligently replied. It did make some kind of sense. I don’t know what happened in that cave, but it did change me in some ways, so not being recognized as a human by my vampire companion wasn’t that unexpected. I refused to think about it at great lengths all this time, focusing on staying alive and finding my way back to the surface.

Now, I know what you think, the bare fact that I was sitting across a real vampire should have freaked me out. But, given everything that happened after entering that pyramid, I was about all numbed out when it came to weird.

If a spaceship landed in front of me right now, and out of it came little green men asking for directions to Alpha Centauri, I would probably be cool about it; just another strange thing on a list that was growing at an alarming rate.

“Do you happen to know the date?” I asked him, switching the conversation away from my own humanity, not something I wanted to deal with right now.

That was the first time this bloodsucker lied to me, or at least I thought so at the time.

It could be the month of October, which would mean I somehow lost the last four months. Nevertheless, he was adamant that he told me the correct date; he pulled a strange contraption from his pocket to prove it to me. I like to point out that I always considered myself quite tech-savvy, so it’s not as I’ve never seen a touch phone before, even held one in my hands. An iPhone made by Apple, and it came out recently. But that thing is crazy expensive for a cell phone. You need to be off the rails to dish out $500 bucks for it. Besides, normal phones have actual buttons that allow you to dial by touch alone, so I’m not sure that Apple’s idea will pan out.

What he had in his hands was twice as big then an iPhone is, and made by some Chinese-sounding company I never heard of. The screen lit up, showing amazingly vivid colors for such a compact device. And there in the center was the date, confirming that the vamp was telling the truth. Except, there was also something wrong with that date… it showed the wrong year… Hell, it showed the wrong decade.

I tried to tell him that his phone was set wrong, but Marcus was insistent that it was in fact the right date.

If I was to believe this contraption, I didn’t lose four months, I lost… ten years… What the hell happened to me?!

We sat there for a while, in silence. I was trying to make any sense of the entire situation, and coming up with dead ends; there was nothing in my experience that would shed even a small ray of light on my predicament. Everything was one big question mark.

The meat was done, smelling heavenly. Surprisingly, he accepted the skewer I offered him, munching delicately on well-done venison. Breaking another preconception that vampires only drank blood. I tore big chunks of it and swallowed it half-chewed. Finally, after eating it all (and a half of Marcus’s one, he lost appetite for some odd reason), I was sated. There was no empty hole to fill anymore in my stomach. And considering the meager amounts of food that it received in… God knows how long, I shouldn’t be able to consume one-tenth of the food that went down my gullet. Hell, what was one more strange thing in the craziness that my life has become?

I managed to put together a decent amount of equipment by choosing what I needed from the dead guy's supplies, packed it all in one backpack, and was ready to go. Marcus reclaimed his own that his captors ruffled through, but otherwise left intact.

After putting out the fire, we set on our way out of this freaking jungle.