“Hey, Logan! Hey! Wake the fuck up before Cap smokes both our asses!”
This rude awakening was paired with increasingly desperate kicks against my boots. I looked up to the perpetrator disturbing my first slumber in 2 days, my head heavy with half-forgotten dreams. I didn’t have time to get angry at Jake for this betrayal; I could hear the unmistakable thud of boots ascending the stairs. They were quick, too.
However, I’m quicker. I was already back on my feet and facing out towards the sector of jungle assigned to our tower, my rifle braced into my armpit and head on a swivel looking for any bump in the night.
“Private Murphy, I trust you’ve properly adjusted to night watch now?” Captain Harrison didn’t attempt to conceal the joy he took in running me ragged this last week.
He had caught me dozing off and had made it his mission to, in his words, reform me into a proper soldier. My life was now patrolling the perimeter of this jungle from dawn till dusk followed by spending my nights staring into a mess of tree trunks, leaves, and vines.
I responded in the best “reformed soldier” voice I could muster, “Sir, yes sir. I’ve taken quite a liking to it. Reminds me of hunting back home, sir!“
“Well, that’s good to hear private. There is one thing bothering me though,” Captain Harrison placed his fist under his chin and looked contemplatively out into the night, “I was looking over here from the east tower a few minutes ago and only saw Private Jake Mendez here on watch.”
Jake and I went rigid, our breaths caught in our throats. Bracing ourselves for the chewing out of a lifetime. However, Captain Harrison just stood there looking at us, smiling. A sadistic twinkle shone brightly in his eyes.
“I’m very impressed with you Mendez!” Harrison beamed.
Standing at full attention, Jake gulped and glanced towards me for a moment before turning his head forward again, “Um… yes sir, thank you, sir.”
“So impressed in fact, I’ll have you join Private Murphy here for all his duties the next two weeks,” Captain Harrison’s smile was shining brighter than ever, “think of it as a mentorship program to help mold him into a soldier such as yourself!”
I could hear Jake’s teeth grinding before he spat out his response, “Sir!”
Captain Harrison took 2 quick steps toward me and stood before me with his nose practically touching mine, the violent change in his demeanor marked by the vein bulging from his forehead.
“I reckon you thought you had gotten a shit deal when you got sent here,” Harrison barked into my face, “but I assure you it can be worse, Private.”
Harrison didn’t bother waiting for my response, he stormed down the steps back to the center of the base. Probably already eyeing the next victim of his power trip.
“Shit, I’m sorry ma- “
My platitudes were cut off by Jake socking me in the ribs. I doubled over, clutching my side after the well-deserved blow.
“You fucking idiot, this detail is bad enough, and now I’m double-fucked for the crime of being around you,” Jake snarled at me.
After a beat, I caught my breath, “Shit man, that’s always been a risk when you hang with me, you’ve known that since basic.”
Jake cursed some more under his breath and turned back toward the jungle, I didn’t blame him for not wanting to even look at me. I fished around in my pocket for a moment before offering an apology cigarette. He snatched it greedily. Jake’s been trying to quit the cancer sticks. Another downside of hanging with a screw-up like me.
He wasn’t wrong though. This was a terrible detail to get sent to. At first, I thought it was like any of the other deserts I’d been sent to. Except when our transport plane touched down on that sweltering runway we didn’t drive off toward some village or city waiting for us to “liberate” it. No, our whole convoy instead pointed itself towards nothing but endless sand and drove. A whole 16 hours of driving left anything resembling civilization far, far behind us. All to arrive at something that still makes no sense despite having spent the last month living in it. A jungle.
A jungle that seems to have sprung out of these barren sands overnight. From my daily patrols, I’d estimate it’s 3 miles wide by 4 miles long, and according to past satellite images, it didn’t exist a month ago. Its presence isn’t the only odd thing about it. The various flora that compose it are bizarre as well. Not alien, but they are what I’d describe as crude approximations of the plants we know. They’d fit right into the uncanny valley of plants if that’s something that exists.
Trees resembling palms with their leaves laid out like a spiral staircase ascending the trunk. Vines that twist into knots in exact intervals along their length. Singular flowers with no visible stem resting on the ground that grow to the size of an entire bush and each petal a distinct color from the rest. There’s a crazy bastard deployed out here with us who claims he ate something that resembled a pear but grew in the ground like a carrot and tasted like a lemon. I told him he better keep that info to himself unless he wants one of the lab coats that we’re protecting out here to dissect him like a frog.
Speaking of lab coats, that’s our real job out here. Uncle Sam has subsidized this place as a research center and grabbed “-ologists” from every field of study you can imagine. Every bit of info they can glean from this kaleidoscope of plants is the sole property of the United States. I’m sure the powers at be in this country got some nice shiny missiles in exchange for their cooperation. Still, grunts like us are needed to hold down the fort and dispatch prying eyes with extreme prejudice.
Though I said every type of “-ologist” can be found here, there is one type missing. Zoologists. On account of there not being a single animal to find in this place. Not even an ant. Believe me, I’ve become so bored out here I’ve started turning over leaves to see if there’s a bug on the other side. Neither I nor the lab coats have had any luck in that endeavor. I know this because despite being heavily discouraged from doing so, I chat up the researchers when the opportunity arises. If I’m going to be here for who knows how long, I’d like to know why.
I’ve become chummy with one of the many botanists out here. His name is Floyd and we often meet up in the chow hall which is just a glorified extra-large tent pitched in the mud near the center of our base. We got to talking about baseball first, we’re both Dodgers fans, but soon he started letting bits slip about what they were finding out about this place.
Most of it flew over my D average in high school head. Some of it has stood out though. Floyd says that despite how green many of the plants and trees are, they don’t have a drop of chlorophyll in them. So, they started checking the soil to see if they were getting nutrients from the ground. Nope. The mud and dirt in this place are just as devoid of nutrients as the sand surrounding us.
Floyd could go on for hours about these things and he always starts to stray toward the topic I really want to know about. The center of this jungle. This place does have a center, but it’s above my clearance to go there. A giant dome tent, about 300 feet across, was erected in the middle of this jungle before I ever got here. It’s fenced off and only accessible to the head researchers and top brass. Floyd always stops himself before spilling anything about what goes on in there. He’s only ever said, “This is gonna change everything.”
Change is the most fitting word for this place. Whether patrolling the perimeter or watching from one of the interior watch towers, I always find some fern, bush, or tree I haven’t seen before. I’ve brought it up with Floyd and his theory for it left me unsettled in a way that’s hard to describe.
“This jungle is like a kid’s Lego set and this kid is trying every combination of pieces they can to see what works.” Floyd never elaborates on what this place is trying to get to “work”, and I don’t think I want him to. Never thought I’d find myself thinking this much about plants, but it helps pass the time waiting for the sun to come back up while staring at this silent jungle.
After a few more apology cigarettes, the sun started to seep through the leaves and our relief arrived to take over the post. Harrison wasn’t so cruel as to deny me sleep as well as food, so Jake and I made our way over to the chow hall. I’m sure he was also looking forward to this brief respite before joining me on my perimeter walk.
After getting our servings of the best rehydrated eggs Uncle Sam has to offer, Jake hoofed it over to a corner of the tent, making it clear he was ready for a break from me. Still stung a little, but who truly enjoys someone’s company for days on end? I scanned the room for a spot and quickly located Floyd, nose pressed into a notebook and ignoring his food.
I took a seat across from him and coughed to get his attention. Nothing, he kept that book practically pressed against his face. I took notice of how dirty his hands were, mud was embedded under every fingernail. Not strange for a botanist I suppose but even his lab coat and khaki shorts, which he always kept pristine, were filthy. Like he’d started rolling around in the mud to get closer to his research.
“Earth to Floyd, how you doing pal?” I said as I gave his notebook a couple of taps with my finger.
Finally, Floyd lowered the book a bit and a pair of sunken, tired eyes peered back at me through a pair of glasses.
“Oh, hey Logan. They got you on nights still?” Floyd responded while placing his notebook face down on the table.
“Yea, yea Captain Harrison is really sticking it to me,” I replied while absentmindedly poking at the eggs with my fork. I was more interested in Floyd’s appearance at this point. He looked like he’d dropped fifty pounds since I’d last seen him a couple of days prior. His normally round, chubby face was now gaunt with protruding cheekbones and dark bags under his eyes.
“It’s nothing I’m not used to,” I added before hesitating a moment, “but um you doing okay man? Where have they had you the last couple of days?”
“Been spending a lot of time in the big tent recently,” Floyd said with some life returning to his eyes, “you wouldn’t believe what we’ve been finding there. Just the other day we excavated this one spot and found-“
“Floyd!” a voice boomed from the entrance of the tent behind me.
I turned to find an older researcher standing there with a deep scowl pointed directly at Floyd. I hadn’t seen this guy before, but he appeared to be in his fifties sporting an impressive combover and an unkempt beard. He too possessed the same sunken eyes, gaunt face, and dirty clothes that Floyd had.
“Sorry Logan, I gotta head back,” Floyd whispered to me as he quickly rose out of his seat.
He had made it halfway out of the tent when I noticed he had left behind his notebook. I picked it up and shouted his name to get his attention. I only saw its contents for a moment before Floyd made it back to the table in practically a full sprint. He ripped the journal from my hand without a word and left the tent following close behind the other researcher. As I watched the pair make their way to the big tent, one thought bounced around my mind. Whatever was written in that journal didn’t look like any language I’ve ever seen, let alone English.
Before I could spend time pondering what I had just seen, Jake approached me, tapping the watch on his wrist. Time to get back to work. We made the 20-minute walk to the edge of the jungle in silence. I don’t think either of us had the energy to make small talk when hit with the realization that we were only halfway done with our shift.
Upon breaching that final tangle of leaves, we were hit with the unmitigated heat of the desert. As creepy as this place was at least it kept the heat at bay and stayed a consistent 80 degrees or so. Now it felt like we were constantly getting battered head to toe from the heat of an open oven. After taking a moment to acclimate, Jake and I did the only thing left to do and started walking.
After a couple of laps of the perimeter, and the desert finding its way inside my boots, I threw in the towel.
“Look man, even Harrison has to sleep at some point. We can take a few minutes, no one is gonna notice,” I said to Jake as I sank against a tree at the edge of the jungle to empty my shoes of the sand I’d collected.
“You’re unbelievable dude. You get caught again and Harrison will probably have you scrubbing the latrines 24/7 not to mention what he’ll do to me,” the exasperation creeping into Jake’s voice.
Jake’s warnings had no weight to them, I was already settling against the tree and lowering my hat over my eyes. “Yea? Well, at least it won’t be so damn hot scrubbing latrines.”
Jake tapped his watch, “You got 15 minutes then we’re moving again.”
“Yup, roger that,” I mumbled back, sleep was already taking me. Harrison couldn’t get to me in my sleep, or he at least hadn’t figured out a way to yet.
Distant, muffled bangs, like your parents banging on your bedroom door because you’re about to miss the bus, pulled me back to consciousness. The stiffness in my neck was the first clue I had been asleep much longer than the 15 minutes I had been allotted.
The second clue became apparent as I rubbed my neck and scanned my surroundings. The sun was gone, and the night air of the desert was chilling me to my bones. And Jake was nowhere to be seen.
“Jake! Where you at man?”
I turned in a circle looking for any trace of him. Not even any shoeprints in the sand. Jake’s idea of a prank? No, this wasn’t like him, he’s too strait-laced. I stood there weighing my options, disappearing into the desert never to be seen again or face Harrison’s wrath, I was leaning toward the former. Before I could decide, I heard those muffled bangs again. They were clearer now and unmistakable. Gunshots. Coming from the direction of the base.
The choice was made for me, so I grabbed my rifle and started jogging through the brush. My progress was hampered by the mud and the roots that crisscrossed over each other. I’d be no help to anyone with a busted ankle. I had made it about a mile deep when more bangs followed by what sounded like screams muffled by the endless leaves reached me. Time to pick up the pace.
As I rounded a tree, running as fast as I dared, I felt something grab my collar. Combined with my momentum, my upper body violently bent back and my feet came flying into my field of view. After what felt like an eternity of being horizontal in the air, gravity reintroduced itself and I crashed into the mud. The air was ripped out of my lungs, and I spent the next few moments teaching myself how to breathe again.
I shakily rose to my feet and turned to face what had stopped me in my tracks. Sticking out of the tree at about neck height was what seemed to be, from a distance, a particularly gnarled and twisted branch. I stepped closer for an inspection. This branch had the uncanny likeness of an arm from the elbow down. 4 bark-covered “fingers” and a “thumb” met at a palm and curled like they were holding a baseball which then flowed to a “wrist.” Just after the “wrist”, inexplicably, was a watch wrapped around the branch. It took a moment for the connections to form in my mind, but this was undoubtedly Jake’s watch.
I stared dumbstruck at the branch. Was this a prank? Some insane coincidence? I reached out to touch the branch, but an inch before touching it, the bark cracked, and the fingers slammed closed into a fist. Another series of cracks sounded up and down the tree while its whole body seemed to shudder for a fraction of a second. The arm was then yanked inside the trunk with frightening speed. I stared in stunned silence at where the branch once was, but now, it was as if nothing was ever there.
I took several steps back, my rifle pointed at the tree, waiting to see what else it was capable of, or if it wanted to bring me into its trunk next. However, it moved no more, resuming its façade of being just a tree. At this point, I was closer to being at the base than being out of this place. The calculation I ran in my head brought me to one conclusion: safety in numbers. I rechecked my rifle and ammo then continued heading toward the base.
Another half mile or so and I finally reached the clearing that the base sat in. I slowly, methodically, swept the sight of my rifle across the camp as I approached, checking the shadows that the floodlights left behind. But I saw nothing. This once bustling camp was empty and entirely silent. I continued my slow approach, now heading to the communications tent. If, somehow, I was now the only person left here, I had to get the word out for help.
I was within 50 feet of the tent when my boot landed on something hard and half-submerged in the mud. A rifle with dozens of spent casings pressed into the ground around it. Looking around me, I saw more of these abandoned rifles, maybe 30 of them. There were also countless spent casings. Finding this raised the hairs on the back of my neck. Time to get what I needed and leave this damn jungle.
I burst into the communications tent with my rifle raised only to find it in the same condition as outside: deserted. I grabbed a backpack, a laptop, a satellite uplink, and a radio. I slung the backpack with the equipment loaded into it onto my shoulder. I thought about using the communication equipment already in the tent to call for help, but I didn’t want to spend a single moment in this place waiting for the reply.
I had barely stepped outside the tent when 3 gunshots rang out to my left. I raised my rifle and aimed it toward the source. It was Captain Harrison about 30 feet away. He was limping toward the big tent at the center of camp. In his right hand, he held a pistol with which he left off another shot. His left arm, covered in blood, hung limply at his side.
“Captain!” I shouted.
Harrison turned toward me, revealing his bloody face and the hole where his left eye once was, “Murphy? Get your ass over here and shoot this bastard!”
I looked toward where Harrison gestured and saw Floyd on the other side of the big tent’s perimeter fence, approaching its entrance.
“Floyd! What’s going on man?” I yelled, my rifle trained on the back of his head.
Floyd, or what was once Floyd, halted his walk and turned to look at me. I can only assume he looked at me. It’s hard to say if he could look at anything due to the blood-soaked vines that seeped from his eyes and traveled down to wrap around his neck like a noose. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but more vines fell out and seemed to writhe like snakes. It’s hard to say for sure due to the distance between us, but I could’ve sworn he did speak.
“The apple.”
He turned away and continued his walk to the tent. Captain Harrison swore and let loose a couple more shots, one managed to land in Floyd’s back, but he didn’t even flinch from the impact. Floyd disappeared into the tent’s entrance and Captain Harrison limped as fast as he could after him.
“Get in here now! That’s an order, Murphy!” Harrison shouted before he too disappeared into the tent.
I’m ashamed to say it, but the thought of just leaving did cross my mind. Harrison is a bastard, but I don’t think I could live with myself if I left him alone in this place. I exhaled deeply, gathered my focus, and made my way to the tent. When I reached the doorway, I examined the shadows, thick as ink, that waited for me in there. I heard nothing, no more gunshots or shouting from Harrison. I pressed my rifle into my shoulder once again and dove into that darkness.
I was greeted with a jungle even denser than the one outside and after a few moments of stumbling through the leaves and roots, a faint light started cutting through the darkness. A light coming from the center of the tent. A light of an indescribable color that pulsed and seemed composed of every shade of color you could imagine while also not having any color at all. As I approached, my surroundings were revealed by this light. All the plant life that surrounded me pulsed in time with the light starting from where they connected to the ground and then rolling up to their tips like solitary waves traveling across a pond.
After a moment, I was forced to look down, away from the light. My head had started to pound in time with the light. Thoughts that I couldn’t trace the origin of started bubbling to the surface of my mind.
The rifle is heavy. Put it down.
Eat of the fruit.
I shook my head trying to clear the thoughts to no avail, then resorted to punching it. The pain cleared these thoughts, and I regained some clarity. I blocked the light with my hand and resumed my march. A few more yards and I broke through the brush. I had found my way to a clearing and the light was at its center, now radiating with an almost blinding intensity. I averted my eyes downward and saw that the ground of the clearing was entirely composed of vines. They all radiated from the center of the clearing and pulsed in time with the light.
I did my best to block the light with my palm and examined my surroundings. I soon saw two silhouettes standing next to each other at the center of the clearing. One was holding what seemed to be a pistol against the other’s head. The one with the pistol was shouting, but I couldn’t make out the words. Here at the center, the light made my ears ring, almost entirely deafening me.
The pulses grew more rapid until they abruptly stopped. Darkness shrouded everything for what felt like eons but was broken by the light returning with a fury. It illuminated the entirety of the tent before seeming to violently sink into the ground. The two silhouettes fell down the sinkhole that appeared to have opened under the light. Underneath me, the vines ripped away and raced toward the pit as well, knocking me off my feet.
The light was still shining, but it was dimmer now and only faintly visible creeping out of the pit. I slowly advanced toward the center, never letting the sight of my rifle leave the pit. I was within 20 feet of the pit when a scream broke out from its maw. This scream, which conveyed unimaginable pain, stopped me in my tracks. I broke out into a cold sweat and my eyes grew dry from staring unblinkingly at the pit. A pair of hands appeared at the edge of the pit and dug their nails into the dirt. Then another pair directly next to the first appeared.
The two sets of hands tightened their grips on the edge of the pit and the rest of this monstrosity came into view as it pulled itself up. It was Floyd. And also, Harrison. They stood side-by-side, but not by choice. Vines pierced their skin, stitching them to each other from their hips up to their shoulders. Their respective arms, and heads, slumped lifelessly to either side. The source of the light was nestled into the tangle of vines that connected the two. It was dimmer now and I could make out its shape. It looked something like an apple.
I took a painfully slow step backwards and my boot contacted the now bare ground with a squish. That thing stiffened and both heads locked onto me. Harrison now had the same vines protruding from his eyes and mouth as Floyd. Their shared body seemed to have countless tendrils writhing under the skin, threatening to burst forth at any moment. Another tense moment, my finger slowly starting to squeeze the trigger, and then that thing spoke.
“Rejoice… child…” Harrison and Floyd’s heads took turns as it spoke, “…we are at… the precipice… Eden’s rebirth… is at hand…”
I didn’t find myself in the mood for a chat, so I responded with a bullet to Harrison’s head and a couple to Floyd’s chest. The new holes I gave it didn’t release a single drop of blood nor did the bullets faze it at all. It simply stared at me with those 4 holes that were once eyes. Then, it seemed to falter for a moment and started to fall forward. Maybe the bullets did do something after all, or so I hoped. Before it could fall on its face’s, its arms and legs shot out and caught it mere inches from the ground.
Then it ran at me.
Run isn’t the right word. Scurried is more accurate as it stumbled over its multitude of limbs. It was ungraceful, but fast. So fast. I turned on my heel and ran, ditching the rifle almost immediately. It was made clear it would do me no good. With adrenaline pumping, I tore through the foliage. I somehow made it through the exit and out into the base. I’m sure the only reason I made it out is due to that thing not being used to its body.
However, it was getting used to that body quickly. As I ran into the corridors that the rows of tents made, it barreled out into the open as well. No longer stumbling over itself. It quickly caught sight of me and resumed the chase. It was gaining on me with terrifying speed as I was approaching a sharp turn in that corridor. When it was within 5 feet of me, it pounced, all its arms extended and ready to grab me. In a feat of athleticism, I never imagined myself capable of, I dropped my weight downward and went into a slide. The abomination flew over me and into the tent ahead of us. It thrashed and screamed a haunting, feral noise as it tangled itself in the fabric of the tent.
I wasn’t about to let this opportunity slip through my fingers, so I took off towards the edge of camp. I swung by one of the fire pits and grabbed a canteen that had been left behind then entered the jungle. I had only made it about 100 yards into it when I heard screams and the breaking of branches as that thing pursued me. I paid no mind and kept running. Running till my lungs burned. Running till my legs felt like they’d snap underneath me. Running till I tasted blood in my mouth.
I didn’t dare look back, but I knew that thing was moments from being on top of me. With a final desperate push, I broke through the tree line and landed face-first into the sand. Laying there I heard one final scream. A scream brimming with an unmistakable rage and frustration. I turned back to the jungle and saw the abomination staring at me. The tendrils under its skin twisted and contorted with tremendous speed. It was only a couple of steps away, but it didn’t stray from the tree line. Then it opened its mouths.
“It matters not… His kingdom… will reclaim all… and all His children… will be reunited…”
Our staring match continued for a few more moments before it slowly moved backward and ultimately disappeared into leaves and vines. My head fell back onto the sand, and I spent a few minutes catching my breath and waiting for my heart to stop pounding. Once I felt up to it, I got back on my feet and started walking into the desert. I walked the rest of the night and through the entirety of the next day. Exhaustion eventually consumed me, and I had to stop for the night and passed out.
That’s where I am now. Shivering in the morning cold of the desert. I managed to send a message to the brass telling them what happened. I got one brief reply then a communication blackout. “Stay where you are.” I’m not so dumb that I don’t know what they intend to do. Scorched earth policy. They can’t let knowledge of this get out and I’m a huge loose end. So, I’m gonna give them the finger one last time. That’s why I’m writing this here, to make sure this doesn’t get buried.
Still, I know I’m not leaving this desert. I don’t have enough water and this laptop’s battery is almost dead. It won’t be dehydration that takes me though. When I woke up the jungle was within eyesight again. It had grown miles while I slept. I won’t be able to outpace it for long. I suspect it’s fruitless to try and that soon there won’t be anywhere free from this jungle. Best of luck to you all.