The Arcturus Man

by John Strauchs

  The sun set. The jungle was darkening quickly. The men with the night vision goggles turned them on. The noises in the jungle went silent after the first shots. It was an eerie quiet. Soon it was pitch dark. Wanting to save their batteries for when they might really need them, some were burning mosquito repellant on rags tied to sticks. Most used their flashlights, holding them away from their bodies just in case someone was sighting on the source of the light. The jungle was new to most of them and it was intimidating. They all searched the ground for snakes as they moved through the jungle. The heat was still oppressive. The machetes came out and the hacking began anew. There was no point in being silent now. Their quarry was just minutes ahead of them. None of them realized that the Kuna were closing in as well.

  They followed Jared into the swamp. He could hear them muttering as they went into the black water. The surface was covered with floating leaves and twigs. It was like walking through a thick soup. It was horrible but the real horror hadn’t started yet.

  Jared was pleased that Rubio’s men were using flashlights and torches. It was ruining their night vision and would cause the light amplifiers to flare. That was good. The first burst of automatic rifle fire wasn’t even close. He had to stay close enough to tantalize them into following him and he had to do it in a way so that their emotions overruled their judgment—especially at the moment they entered the mangrove swamp. He had to lure them into the swamp. This would be the darkest night any of Rubio’s men would ever experience. They would have nightmares about this night for the rest of their lives. The Mohinga Swamp was a place even the Kuna didn’t like to venture into at night, but they would do it for Jared. At least they knew what to expect. Rubio’s men had no idea what it was going to be like.

  Jared tried to keep his distance from the lead attackers at about 20 meters, sometimes much less. He made noise and left an easy trail to follow. They were city boys who could use guns.

  The water was waste deep and it was difficult to move. The footing was tangled with roots and each step sunk into muddy ooze. Lose shoulder straps were getting caught on branches. And, it was dark. It was darker than Rubio’s men had ever imagined a night could be. Jared led them deeper and deeper into the great swamp.

  Suddenly, Jared froze. He could hear one of Rubio’s men moving through the water. He was very close. But that wasn’t the danger he sensed. There was something else and it was much closer.

  The snake struck.

  Jared’s instincts exploded. He lunged away from the strike and caught the snake below its head with his right hand as the fangs pierced his skin, hitting his left arm below the elbow. The snake was huge. He couldn’t see it well, but it felt like a bushmaster, the largest and deadliest venomous snake in the Americas. Bushmasters could grow to 12 feet. This snake was at least 10 feet. It could only be a bushmaster. That was not good.

  Jared focused on keeping fear at bay. The bushmaster was a nocturnal hunter and one of the most aggressive snakes in the world. It was a pit viper and its venom was a haemotoxin. Everything he had learned about the bushmaster flashed through his mind as the index cards of facts flipped through his thoughts. The venom would soon attack his haemostatic system. He would begin to hemorrhage. Just as bad, the venom started an insidious digestive process. His flesh would begin to break down. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as he imagined it could be. The bushmaster’s fangs were almost an inch and a half long, but the venom wasn’t the deadliest among pit vipers. The bushmaster depended on delivering a huge amount of venom. reflexes. Had he caught it in time? He had pulled off the snake with lightning quick How much venom was now in his circulatory system? Was it just a prick? He didn’t know. Would Rubio win after all despite his careful planning? He hadn’t counted on being bitten by a snake. Bushmasters like to hide in dry leaves on the jungle floor. What was it doing in the swamp? Jared must have crossed a dry island. What did it matter? He was bitten and he had to deal with it now.

  Whatever venom he received was already in his circulatory system. He concentrated hard. He began to shrink the blood vessels and capillaries by sheer will and concentration. He ordered his body to fight the venom. He wasn’t feeling the effects yet, but they might come—soon. He had to get rid of the snake.

  Jared’s night vision was exceptional. He pulled a nylon cord from his pack and using his free hand, he quickly fashioned a noose. Jared slipped it over the snake’s massive body and threw the other hand of the cord over a low branch. He could hear one of Rubio’s men coming close. He was carrying a torch. Jared dropped the cord and pulled his revolver. He fired three rapid shots at the approaching man. He aimed for the torch but it didn’t matter. The man took cover, dropping the torch into the water. More shots rang out as other pursuers panicked. He could see pin-points of light moving around in the distance.

  One of Rubio’s men fired blindly toward where the torchlight had been. Walking in the waist-deep swamp, the flat trajectory of his bullets skipped off the water. It was a burst of six rounds. The bullets ricocheted off the water, striking two of the men walking in front. Jared could hear men screaming. They weren’t thinking. They were reacting. Survival instincts were ruling. “That was good,” thought Jared. “Two gone!”

  Jared retrieved the cord and pulled it until it was tight and he could feel the weight of the snake lessening. He carefully released the bushmaster’s head and backed away, pulling the cord as he stepped back. The snake was suspended from the branch and was violently coiling around the cord and branch. Jared tied off the cord at a safe distance and slipped into the darkness. The great snake couldn’t free itself from the noose.

  Within just a few minutes Jared heard the closest man shriek.

  “Madre dios! Serpiente.”

  He had found the present. Good! Rubio just lost another man. It was starting.

  Jared now felt pain where the snake had bitten him. It was beginning. He felt flushed. His body temperature was rising. He blocked the pain. He moved quickly through the water even though he understood that moving would push whatever venom was in his body quicker throughout his system. He needed to get some distance from his pursuers. He needed a little time now.

  He found a massive tree with roots that spread out more than twenty feet. He worked his way into the widely spaced roots growing out of the water and found a hiding place deep within the tree’s roots. Light from torches and flashlights flickered in the distance. Now it was time to be silent. He listened. Rubio’s men were chattering to one another. Rubio couldn’t be happy about that but the men were frightened.

  The irony of the moment almost made Jared laugh. He was carrying a Bushmaster survival knife. This was a massive 15-inch knife with a handle large enough to store a small survival kit. He opened the handle and found something that looked like a scaled down version of the Sawyer snake bite pump. He aligned the pump extraction nozzle directly over one of the fangs marks and pumped from the same hole into which the venom had entered his body. He quickly pumped the other hole. He wished he could see it but although his knife also held a small flashlight, he just couldn’t risk it. Worse, he could get shot by the Kuna. They would assume that Jared would never turn on a light.

  Extracting venom wasn’t recommended for snake bites but there were no medical services in the jungle. It had to do for now. He cut a small length of nylon cord and tied it around his forearm, just above the bite. He tightened it, being careful not to get it too tight. It was dangerous to completely shut off circulation. That was the best that he could do for now. He thought about Jenny. Then he realized that this was unusual. He knew who he was and he was not a selfless person. Nevertheless, he thought about Jenny. She meant more to him than he realized—more than he normally would be willing to admit. He cleared his mind of her image. Tonight was more dangerous than he planned it to be. She warned him about not treating this like a game.

  Jared heard the crack of a small caliber rifle. That must have been the single-shot rifle that the Kuna carried. Another scream! And then there we
re more shots—slow and spaced apart by minutes. Jared could hear screams each time a shot was fired. He didn’t know if someone had been hit or if it was only fear. He also heard arguing. Then he thought he heard Rubio’s voice. The Kuna were firing at the lights. It didn’t take the pursuers much time to realize that. More of Rubio’s men had been hit; probably with each shot fired by the Kuna. The lights began to go out. They were close enough that Jared could hear the hiss as each torch was dunked into the water. Soon, Rubio’s men were firing wildly in all directions. They were hysterical. The dark won.

  All of the lights were gone now. The men stopped talking but Jared could still hear whispers. Everyone froze. Rubio’s men clumped into pairs and threes. They were back to back, seeking one another’s comfort and whatever security that seemed to bring. Now the waiting began. One of his pursuers had stopped at the tree roots that Jared was hiding in. Jared didn’t move. He was silent and he listened and he sensed who was around him. They had unknowingly formed a semi-circle around his hiding place.

  Whenever one of Rubio’s men moved to establish a better resting position, if there was any noise, a Kuna shot cracked in the dark—the deadly dark. Soon, no one moved and no one whispered. The jungle was silent. Even the animals were quiet.

  The men huddled in the darkness. If they felt a large tree, they tried to quietly climb out of the water as much as possible. They could feel things moving in the water around them. They couldn’t see what it was but there was certainty that it was deadly. Were they snakes? A few of them had seen the man bitten by the bushmaster hanging from a branch. Were they crocodiles? They knew they wouldn’t see the light of day again. They were dieing one by one and there were still many hours of darkness to endure.

  Rubio’s men were confused. Who was shooting at them? Was it the quarry? The shots seemed to be coming from everywhere. No matter how still they tried to be, as soon as something frightening was felt in the water, they moved. A split-second later there was a shot. Some missed, but more hit the intended target—hit the source of the sound. The Kuna were patient hunters and deadly marksmen.

  Leaning back to back, they waited. There was a strange clicking sound. What was it? One man thought he heard a hiss. Serpiente? It was impossible to see. Fear was quickly turning into terror. Jared could sense their terror. He was counting on it.

  Jared felt fever. The pain was blocked but he knew it was there, waiting for him to let down his guard. His heart rate was slowing, but it wasn’t Jared doing it. It was the venom. He had to do something before he was unable to do anything. His timetable was no longer viable. He processed a new plan in his mind. It only took seconds.

  Jared focused on Rubio. He was close. He was very close. Surprisingly, he couldn’t sense any fear. Rubio was apprehensive, but there was no fear. No terror! Jared focused deeper. What was Rubio thinking? It wasn’t clear. Rubio learned that the Chocó guide had disappeared. So what. He wasn’t needed now. Then Jared’s senses felt fuzzy. A mental fog settled over him again.

  Jared felt a sharp sting on his neck and then another. Ants! There were arboreal ants in this tree. Soon there would be hundreds. Rubio’s man was still huddling against the same tree he was hiding in. Jared slowly moved his right arm up and silently brushed the biting ants off his neck.

  His mind began to play back everything he knew about them. It was an immense collection of knowledge. They often inhabit birds nest. The ants and birds somehow get along. The ants protect the nests and thereby the birds. These birds are seed eaters. They don’t eat ants. There might be some kind of olfactory camouflage as well. Scientists weren’t quite sure about that. “Interesting,” thought Jared. Worker ants don’t leave the host tree.

  Why was he thinking about biting ants? Well, two bit him. But why was he trying to decide which species it was? His mind was wandering. The venom was beginning to affect his mind. His only real weapon was his ability to sense where his pursuers where and sometimes what they were thinking. But he was slowly losing this weapon. His ability to sense was going in and out like waves. Jared realized that he had to take some action before he lost all of his abilities. Of course, the snake bite might kill him first. He had to act. Now!

  He slowly walked both hands to his pack and quietly unbuckled another side pocket. The sound of nylon rubbing over nylon was unmistakable. Rubio’s man was just a few feet away surely heard it. But would he recognize it? There wasn’t any time to worry about it. His mind was addled. He had great night vision but now he could only see shapes. His vision was blurred. He wanted to be with Jenny again. He mustered all his reserves. It had to last.

  Jared pulled out a short cord from the pocket. He very slowly worked his way forward toward the man just outside his reach. As he drew closer he could sense the man’s body heat. The head was emitting a lot of heat. Then he lunged. He slipped the cord over the man’s head and pulled tight. There was a gagging sound and then the man thrashed in the water, kicking his legs and flailing his arms, trying to reach behind to grasp his tormenter. It was no use. Jared held the cord tight. More shots rang out. It was automatic weapons fire. Rubio’s men were firing wildly, again, hoping to get a lucky hit. Then there was the distinct crack of a Kuna rifle. Another man screamed.

  The man stopped struggling. Jared released the cord and felt for a pulse in his neck. He was still alive. Good! He grabbed the man by the hips and lifted him slightly to hook the webbing of the man’s pack on a stump. He didn’t want him to drown. There were other men around the tree they were all sharing but it wasn’t possible to see anything. The darkness was absolutely total. They were petrified waiting for their turn to be attacked by whatever got their friend.

  Jared felt his senses returning again, but would it last? He had to move fast; perhaps faster than was safe. He had to gamble. His mind kept working on a new plan on the fly. He trudged through the water. His vision was returning. That helped as he worked his way through the mangroves. He was sloshing water. He was moving too quickly. Rubio’s men at the tree remained frozen where they were. They had weapons but knew that the muzzle flash would draw fire. They did nothing.

  Jared sensed danger. Someone was aiming toward him and slowly squeezing the trigger. Jared tuned it in. He felt for the moment that the shooter would get the shot off. Now! He wrenched his body to one side as the bullet ripped through the tail of his shirt. It was Lopez. The best shot among the Kuna.

  “Damn it, Lopez,” thought Jared. “Can’t blame Lopez. How could he know it was me? I’m making all this damned noise.”

  How long would it take Lopez to reload? Was there another Kuna in range? Who else could hear him moving in the water? If anything, he had to move quicker.

  He couldn’t feel that anyone had a night vision scope on him. He could barely sense some infrared energy emanating to his right, but he wasn’t in the field of view. So far so good! But someone was taking sight on him. It was Lopez again. Jared froze. He couldn’t take a shot if there wasn’t any sound to aim at. Jared dropped down and submerged in the water where he stood. Something bumped into him, but whatever it was, it was gone again. Lopez took his shot. Jared rose out of the water after the shot passed. Lopez had hit someone. A scream! Someone must have been on the same line. Other men were thrashing in the water now. They were stampeding like cattle running from thunder. The defenseless feeling of being blind was more than some of the men could bear. Rubio’s little army was dwindling fast.

  Now Jared had to move fast again before Lopez could reload. The nausea was returning. He was starting to lose his edge again. He had to move quicker. He focused on everyone around him, trying to sort everyone out. He was searching for Rubio.

  Rubio’s men were scattering. One pulsed his flashlight on and off so he could check his compass, but as soon as he did the Kuna shot. With his men moving wildly in panic, Rubio heard a man close, but never imagined that it was Jared.

  Jared unsheathed his Bushmaster knife and in almost slow motion ran it beneath Rubio’s throat. Rubio froze as the s
harp edge pushed against the soft skin.

  “Don’t move! Don’t talk!” Jared said in Spanish in almost a gentle whisper. A Kuna shot rang out. It missed them both. Jared quickly shifted to the right.

  Rubio didn’t speak.

  “Do you yield? You may speak, but very quietly.” Jared pulled Rubio to one side, just a few feet. Another Kuna shot passed where they had been standing, waist deep in water.

  “Siemels? It is you?”

  “Yes, it is me.” Jared sank down into the water, pulling Rubio with him. Another shot came from another location. They stayed as low as possible. Only their heads were out of the water. The knife remained on Rubio’s throat.

  “What is it you want?” asked Rubio.

  “You enjoy reading historic novels—novels about the glory days of Spain—about knights and chivalry. You love El Cid. You know what yield means.”

  “How could he know this,” thought Rubio. “Yes, I know what it is to yield. I am not afraid to die. I do not yield.”

  “I know you aren’t afraid to die. But you must ask yourself if this is worth dieing for? Think about your wife and your children. They will lose a husband and a father. What happens to Vivento?” asked Jared.

  “A moment, please.”

  “You have 30 seconds Rubio.”

  “Yes, I yield. You are correct. This is not worth dieing for. You are not my enemy.”

  “Will all of your men obey you?”

  “Yes, they will obey.” A Kuna rifle shot cracked in the distance. This time it was close. The bullet entered the water a few inches from Rubio’s head.