The Treasure
Michael W. Davis
Excerpt
Jake heard the scream from the direction of the shoreline. He ripped his way through the dense undergrowth, but when he got
there, she was gone. He followed the drag trail into the teal colored trees. After sixty yards he came to an opening, and there
she was, the life being sucked from her small body. She reached for him, pleaded for relief. He struggled to help her, but he
couldn’t move. His feet were entangled in the roots of the forest; the vines rose up and anchored him to the ground. She called
his name, again and again, begged him to save her, but he could only watch as she was slowly devoured. He looked toward
the sky; cried out for a reprieve, but there was no one to help.
Clang. Jake opened his eyes. His self made alarm worked this time. He pulled down the clear plastic container hanging over his head
and shook it back and forth. The motion aggravated the two-inch long glowworms stored inside the container. The insects began to hiss
as their bodies emitted a bright glow, equivalent to roughly a 40-watt bulb.
He looked down at the floor and observed a two-foot long brown slug easing across the trip wire of his alarm. He removed the knife
from the sleeve attached to his belt, tossed it at the four-inch diameter creature, and skewered the slimy thing to the ground.
Jake sat on the edge of the hand made cot and stared through the tent opening at his new world. He shook his head to force out the
terrible images that hounded his dreams. The nightmares came less frequently now, but the memory was always there, leaching at his
soul. For that one mistake, when he lowered his guard for an instant, he would be haunted for the remainder of his days.
Jake reached down for his knife and picked up one of the many hostile creatures he had learned to live with during the past eleven
months. He smirked at the slug and declared, “Not this time. You already sucked off my little toe, you bastard. It’s my turn to eat you.”
He tied a string around the extruded orifice at the front of the slug and hung his evening meal from the tent post to prevent the other little
crawly things from stealing his dinner.
He walked outside and peered up at the three moons that cast a blue tine across the landscape. “Might as well stay up. Not enough
time before they start coming again.” The six foot 220 pound man with sandy hair took a moment to enjoy the view of the sparkling
turquoise shoreline eighty yards below his fortress. He watched the forty-foot luminescent eels undulate in the surf, as the males
jockeyed for access to a mate. He noticed the large six-legged pig like creature routing in the sand for shellfish deposited by the tide.
“Watch it. You’re getting too close.” The animal had carelessly strayed next to a two foot diameter borrow. “Too late.” In an instant,
the maroon-red sea leech shot out and latched its four-inch fangs into the side of its victim. The struggle for life subsided when the leech
tranquilized its prey by injecting a pint of poison. Once the meal was enveloped, the leech retracted back into its hiding place beneath
the sand.
“Guess I’ll replenish my stock.” Jake walked back to the tent and gathered an arm full of items from his arsenal. He walked along the
rim of the plateau that defined his battlefront and distributed weapons at strategic locations where they tended to crawl up the ridge
once the assault began. Jake shook his head at the contrast between the sophisticated armaments destroyed in the crash and his current
defenses. His crude primitive weapons were simple: several crossbows he fabricated from the wreckage, spears fashioned from
saplings, and large stones. Not much for a technology driven man, but enough to survive the last four months against the only weapon
his adversaries possessed, their own bodies.
there, she was gone. He followed the drag trail into the teal colored trees. After sixty yards he came to an opening, and there
she was, the life being sucked from her small body. She reached for him, pleaded for relief. He struggled to help her, but he
couldn’t move. His feet were entangled in the roots of the forest; the vines rose up and anchored him to the ground. She called
his name, again and again, begged him to save her, but he could only watch as she was slowly devoured. He looked toward
the sky; cried out for a reprieve, but there was no one to help.
Clang. Jake opened his eyes. His self made alarm worked this time. He pulled down the clear plastic container hanging over his head
and shook it back and forth. The motion aggravated the two-inch long glowworms stored inside the container. The insects began to hiss
as their bodies emitted a bright glow, equivalent to roughly a 40-watt bulb.
He looked down at the floor and observed a two-foot long brown slug easing across the trip wire of his alarm. He removed the knife
from the sleeve attached to his belt, tossed it at the four-inch diameter creature, and skewered the slimy thing to the ground.
Jake sat on the edge of the hand made cot and stared through the tent opening at his new world. He shook his head to force out the
terrible images that hounded his dreams. The nightmares came less frequently now, but the memory was always there, leaching at his
soul. For that one mistake, when he lowered his guard for an instant, he would be haunted for the remainder of his days.
Jake reached down for his knife and picked up one of the many hostile creatures he had learned to live with during the past eleven
months. He smirked at the slug and declared, “Not this time. You already sucked off my little toe, you bastard. It’s my turn to eat you.”
He tied a string around the extruded orifice at the front of the slug and hung his evening meal from the tent post to prevent the other little
crawly things from stealing his dinner.
He walked outside and peered up at the three moons that cast a blue tine across the landscape. “Might as well stay up. Not enough
time before they start coming again.” The six foot 220 pound man with sandy hair took a moment to enjoy the view of the sparkling
turquoise shoreline eighty yards below his fortress. He watched the forty-foot luminescent eels undulate in the surf, as the males
jockeyed for access to a mate. He noticed the large six-legged pig like creature routing in the sand for shellfish deposited by the tide.
“Watch it. You’re getting too close.” The animal had carelessly strayed next to a two foot diameter borrow. “Too late.” In an instant,
the maroon-red sea leech shot out and latched its four-inch fangs into the side of its victim. The struggle for life subsided when the leech
tranquilized its prey by injecting a pint of poison. Once the meal was enveloped, the leech retracted back into its hiding place beneath
the sand.
“Guess I’ll replenish my stock.” Jake walked back to the tent and gathered an arm full of items from his arsenal. He walked along the
rim of the plateau that defined his battlefront and distributed weapons at strategic locations where they tended to crawl up the ridge
once the assault began. Jake shook his head at the contrast between the sophisticated armaments destroyed in the crash and his current
defenses. His crude primitive weapons were simple: several crossbows he fabricated from the wreckage, spears fashioned from
saplings, and large stones. Not much for a technology driven man, but enough to survive the last four months against the only weapon
his adversaries possessed, their own bodies.
Copyright 2007 by Michael W. Davis
Copyright 2007 by Michael W. Davis
Site material copyright 2007 by Michael W. Davis
Anthology Paperback ($12)
by:
Michael W. Davis
Stories to touch the heart and mind
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