Detailed Report.
Team Uno Report, 5 Of 12.
Day 5. Part 2.
Tracks in the Dark.
Mr Majors's point of view.
"That mother fucking son of a bitch! Why the hell is he like that? Now, I don't know where that bitch Ben or Timmon went, and if I take too long, I won't be able to track them down, but I at least need to find a way to make it easy for them to find me. I haven't wandered too far from that monster tree due to my injuries, but I can't make a scene; there might be wolves and snake heads around, and who knows how many more creatures and monster-like trees there might be around here."
From where Mr Major stood, he could still see the crown of the monster tree. Unravelling the woven vines from around his shoulder, he took some time to clean his injuries and wrap them with pieces of cloth. Watching as the sun slowly fell in the sky from the edge of the forest, Mr Major began his preparation to find his friends. Picking a few large leaves, he then placed them on his forearms, shins, and abdomen, then slowly wrapped the vines around them. Foraging for some carbon daggers along the forest floor, he then used them to carve X arrows pointing towards the monster tree. The surrounding forest was off quiet, and Mr Major knew nothing good came from the quiet, but regardless of everything happening, he managed to carve X arrows in almost fifty trees in the general area in which they scattered and separated, each mark at the approximate shoulder height of all three of them.
"Timmon was the furthest from me, but he's smart enough to handle himself. If they don't return back to the areas near the monster tree, I'm sure they will head to the crater wall or, at most, the direction in which Tobi pointed out food and water. As smart as Ben is, I don't have confidence that he will switch gears and survive, but if he manages to stay safe and out of harm's way, then Timmon and I can probably find him if he doesn't go deeper into the forest. Now that I'm this close to the tree I should start carving O arrows pointing towards the direction of the food and water Tobi hinted to."
Suddenly, a nest of baby Spunnies came running into the area. Mr Major heard them before he saw them, and they were out and about.
"Fuck! What do these things want? Do I run back to the tree? No, that's madness, plus the sun had already set, probably. So that tree plan wouldn't have worked in my favour if I was really pushed it that option. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I can't run away with these injuries," Mr Major muttered as the nest of baby Spunnies scurried into view, their tiny movements echoing through the otherwise silent forest.
Panic gripped him as he contemplated the vulnerability of his injuries and the potential threat posed by the curious Spunnies.
With determination, he faced the situation head-on.
Fumbling to his side, settling on one of the carbon daggers he had fashioned earlier. Gripping it firmly, he maintained a defensive stance, preparing for any unexpected developments. The soft glow of dusk cast a warm ambience on the scene, accentuating the uncertainty that enveloped him.
As the baby Spunnies closed in, their tiny, inquisitive eyes fixated on Mr. Major. His heartbeat quickened, and beads of sweat formed on his forehead. The forest seemed to hold its breath, awaiting the outcome of this tense encounter.
In a moment of realization, Mr Major questioned whether the creatures were drawn to him for a reason. Could they sense something in the air, like blood or urine? Or were they simply attracted to his presence? Wrestling with these thoughts, he cautiously took a step back, eyeing the nest of them and preparing for a potentially limpy escape.
As the distance between them closed, Mr Major's grip tightened on the carbon dagger. His gaze flickered between the Spunnies and the surrounding darkness, acutely aware of the potential dangers that lurked beyond his immediate line of sight.
Suddenly, the Spunnies shifted their demeanour and charged at Mr Major with unexpected intensity. Panic surged through him as he sought to fend off the onslaught, using the carbon dagger to create a makeshift barrier between himself and the persistent creatures. The stone-sized injuries in his palms throbbed with each desperate parry.
Battle yells erupted from Mr Major as he grappled with the onslaught. The forest echoed with the sounds of the skirmish, a stark departure from its previous serenity.
In the midst of the struggle, a realization slowly dawned on him: the Spunnies, though persistent, seemed responsive to the direction of and intensity of his shouts. This revelation injected a heightened sense of urgency into his already deadly situation.
A quick and desperate plan took shape in his head; could the pitch or tone of his voice be the key to influencing their behaviour? The urgency of the situation pressed upon him as he wrestled with the dilemma of using his voice as a tool or risking potential damage to his throat. Also, the fear of attracting larger predators. One vivid predator in his mind was the wolves that loomed quietly as a haunting backdrop to his decision-making process.
In the desperate attempt to influence the Spunnies' behaviour through varied tones and pitches, Mr Major discovered a paradox. Some vocalizations seemed to agitate and hyperactivate the creatures, complicating the task of isolating the optimal pitch.
The chaotic situation escalated as the Spunnies, stirred by certain vocal nuances, became more erratic in their movements.
Faced with the increasing unpredictability of their responses, Mr Major realized that the pursuit of a specific pitch might be futile in this life-or-death scenario.
The urgency of the situation compelled him to abandon the nuanced approach and resort to the straightforward tactic of sheer yelling. It became evident that simplicity and raw intensity held more sway over the Spunnies' behaviour than any subtle modulation of sound.
In the midst of the chaotic struggle, Mr Major, now fully committed to using his voice as a blunt instrument, raised the volume of his yells. The forest reverberated with the forceful sound, echoing the urgency of the moment. The Spunnies, momentarily confused by the sudden change in tactic, hesitated in their hyperactive assault.
As the primal nature of his shouts echoed through the wilderness, Mr Major grappled with the realization that, in the midst of chaos, sometimes the most direct approach was the only viable path to survival. As he yelled and fought back at the Spunnies, they started to disperse, but not before something jumped out of the nearby bush at Mr Major.
Timmon's point of view.
"No need to stop; if I keep going this way, keeping the crater wall in sight, I can make it to our mission objective, the water and food Tobi spotted as he fell prey to the birds. Then again, Tobi was delusional and dying in the most painful way one could die. How can I trust his words? This could be a final hallucination. As the team leader, I should at least try to meet back up with the team first. Maybe I should go back to where I last saw them.
Maybe you should give me back control.
Shut up! All I need to do is find the team, which would be easy.
Ben won't survive. Only Mr Major will. He's probably heading this way as we speak.
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NO! Every one of them will live. I can feel it, so just be quiet.
You are going to get me killed if you turn back. We can do this. Our knowledge is top tier.
Once I find Mr Major, we can track Ben down. He's dumb, but not that dumb.
With all this thinking power, you forgot that Mr Major got shot by a tree. He's probably bleeding and dying after the adrenaline wore off.
I need to hurry; I have a bad feeling about this."
Struggling with his internal battle, Timmon quickly retraced his steps and ran back toward the tree. Slowing from a sprint to a brisk walk, he approached the area where the monster tree had been. Not wanting to face that damned tree again, he began searching the areas he remembered them running toward, hoping to find clues indicating whether they went deeper into the forest or stayed along its perimeter.
Bracing against a tree to recover some lost energy, Timmon’s palm was met by splinters, drawing his attention. In the low light, he struggled to see the carving that had embedded splinters in his hand. Feeling it out, he noticed two angled lines and a circle. The carving turned out to be an arrow with a circle over it. After a few seconds, it clicked that the arrow pointed to where Tobi had seen the food and water. Was Timmon too late? Had he missed Mr Major? Only he would leave a track like that.
Just below the sound of the wind was a sound of hissing. "No, no, no," Despair filled his mind. This was the sound of countless bug-like legs on tiles. "It's the Spunnies again! They're back?" he screamed in his head. However, also on that same wind came the sound of something screaming or yelling.
Was it Ben? It was too far to be sure, but who else could it be? Cautiously approaching the source of the yelling, Timmon grabbed two hand-sized stones, readying himself to strike in case he had to jump out of the bushes to save Ben in the nick of time. Or so he thought. It turned out that what he heard and thought was Ben screaming in the distance was, in fact, not Ben; it was Mr Major, and 20 Spunnies surrounded him.
Without any hesitation, Timmon jumped out of the bushes. "A big man like you screaming in the dark like this, sir? I’m so glad I found you first. Watch how I come through here swinging. I got you; we're getting out of this in one piece."
Timmon hurled the first stone in his hand at the swarm of Spunnies. The stone connected with the small body of a creature just as another tried to jump at him.
Mr. Major, wielding his spear, took a stab at a nearby Spunny and yelled as the creatures all jumped back. “Thank God! Timmon, ain't I glad to see you, my friend!” said Mr. Major. “If these baby Spunnies get too close, just yell at them; something within the pitch irritates them enough to run, but there are other pitches that also make them more aggressive, so don't overthink it; just let that baby sing if you're going to fight.”
"I see. I heard yelling and rushed straight here. Fighting an army of fast-bug-like mammals with you was never the plan," Timmon replied, struggling to keep the Spunnies at bay. "We need to move now before something stronger and faster shows up here. As curious as I am, I cannot handle that outcome. We need an environmental advantage, and we won’t get that if we stay here fighting. Right now, we are at a disadvantage."
Launching the other stone with more purpose, Timmon killed yet another Spunny. Mr Major, braced against a tree, made sure he stayed within attack range of Timmon at all times. Though he couldn’t fully help, he could add support with his spear.
Taking some carbon daggers from his pocket, Timmon yelled and stabbed at anything that jumped toward him. He noticed that most of his attacks on their legs did no damage, but the weight behind his strikes was causing the most harm. He needed a big weapon or something that could produce more force. As his mind drifted to the parent Spunnies they first encountered, he realized just how lucky they were not having to face them.
“Get back!” Mr. Major shouted as the swarm of Spunnies tried to surround and close in on Timmon’s legs. As he jumped back into a tuck and roll, the Spunnies were even more desperate for the kill, but only a few moved forward to charge at him for the kill.
Mr. Major, catching his breath, observed the retreating Spunnies. "It looks like some of the Spunnies are retreating, so maybe luck is in our favor, and we might be able to get away even with my injuries."
"I got no faith in that. Luck has never been on our side. They could be planning something or, worse, sensing something more formidable," Timmon replied, his voice strained but determined. "Whatever it is, the three of us are going to get out of this one way or the other."
Mr Major: Huh? three?
Timmon: Fuck! Um? Yeah, the three of us. I hope you remember Ben. We are going to find him, and we are all going to get out of this mess.
With a skeptical look, Mr Major quickly dropped the matter just as a Spunny jumped towards his face. A swift block and counter stab caused a few of the Spunnies to focus on him. He yelled again, causing them to scatter. The scream was driven by the pain from his broken ribs; the movement caused the broken rib to stab him internally, but it wasn’t as drastic as it could have been. Luck was on their side, he thought.
As if rehearsed, Timmon, as promised, came in swinging after Mr Major's quick maneuver. Grabbing hold of Mr Major's spear, he swiftly connected it to the jumping Spunnies, cutting away at their bellies followed by a stab to the face of the others that scurried towards them.
Mr Major, trying to catch his breath, felt his hand make contact with one of his directional carvings. It was an arrow with an X above it, but it only had one X, meaning they weren’t that close to the monster tree.
Timmon gave a long, loud scream, then said, "Let's slowly keep moving back towards the tree. Maybe their animal instincts will cause them to stay clear, creating a window for us to slip away."
Mr Major, his breath heavy, responded, "These animals are young and curious. They're probably the type to learn the hard way. A lot usually have to die for the few to learn.”
Timmon: As the human animal, do you think this applies to us as well?
Mr Major: We started off as five. Tell me. What have you learned? Let's just focus on the task at hand.
Timmon nodded, his eyes darting around for any sign of a new threat. "Then let's make sure we teach them a lesson they won't forget. We need to be smart and keep our movements deliberate."
They began to inch backward, keeping their weapons ready. The Spunnies, sensing the change in their demeanour, hesitated but still maintained a threatening presence. Timmon and Mr. Major moved in a synchronized manner, covering each other’s blind spots.
As they retreated, Mr Major whispered, "I’ve marked the path. We need to keep following these carvings. They’ll lead us to safety."
Timmon, still swinging and stabbing at any Spunny that got too close, replied, "Got it. Let’s keep our wits about us and stay on track. "We can’t afford any mistakes now. The fewer Spunnies there are, the harder they fight back. I can hardly react and keep up now that they have more room to attack," Timmon said, his breath coming in short bursts.
Mr Major, gritting his teeth through the pain, nodded. "Stay focused. We’re almost there. Just a bit further, and we can lose them."
Timmon tightened his grip on the spear, swinging it in wide arcs to keep the Spunnies at bay. Each strike was more precise, more desperate, as they inched closer to the safety of the marked path. The Spunnies, now fewer but fiercer, darted in and out, looking for an opening.
Mr Major, leaning heavily against a tree, managed to spot another of his carvings—an arrow with two X’s above it. "We’re getting closer," he muttered, mostly to himself.
"Keep moving!" Timmon urged. "We can’t let up now."
With a coordinated effort, they continued their retreat, each step calculated to minimize exposure to the relentless Spunnies. Timmon’s earlier observation was proving true; the reduced numbers made the creatures bolder and more aggressive. Their smaller size and increased agility were making it difficult for him to fend them off.
Mr Major, despite his injuries, tried to remain a reliable presence. "Remember, Timmon," he said through laboured breaths, "if they get too close, use that scream. It’s our best chance to throw them off balance."
Timmon nodded, letting out another piercing scream. The Spunnies recoiled, momentarily disoriented, giving the two men a brief respite. "Now, move!" he shouted.
Seizing the opportunity, they advanced towards the next marker, their movements swift yet careful. The Spunnies, though relentless, seemed momentarily hesitant, giving Timmon and Mr. Major the sliver of hope they needed to push forward. The escape route was becoming clearer, and with each passing second, their chances of survival increased.
As they slowly moved backward, Mr Major felt around for his tree carvings, using them to guide the way whenever he sensed they were straying off course. Timmon, meanwhile, was screaming and swinging his spear, doing his best to keep the remaining Spunnies at bay. After some time, they managed to get clear of the Spunnies without sustaining additional injuries, but Mr. Major was extremely tired.
Mr Major: Excuse my language but "FUCK!" that shit was hard. I swear this place is hell! I just never expected it to be green, and I also didn't expect it to smell like waffles and honey from time to time. I'm conflicted.
Timmon: What should we do now? Rest up? Get high ground? Or start looking for Ben?
Mr Major: Damn, Straight to business. I like that. I saw Ben run off in a straight line, and I know how that brain works. Chances are he aimed to maintain that straight trajectory. The challenge lies in the attempt itself, as the span between his starting and ending points creates quite a sizeable search area. But we might have a search range. We know what this man's endurance is like on and off adrenaline.
Timmon: So we search the short distance, then move out to the extended distance after. I don't know about you, but how can we be sure that we won't miss him during the search? It's not like we can walk around calling his name now, can we?
Mr Major: We'll have to depend on and use our senses as best as we can. He's not dumb, after all, and he was paying attention when I was crafting the fires, so he might figure it out.
Timmon: Think about it. Why would he start a fire on his own? It's too dangerous, even if it's for his survival. A fire would make him equivalent to a land angler fish. The only problem here is that we have no prey to catch; the predators are the only ones that gain.
Mr Major: He's gonna light a fire. If not on the ground, then he's going to climb a tree. Not all of them are crazy tall, and they are not that difficult to climb.
Timmon: Do you really think the city boy can climb? It's Ben we're talking about. Let's be real. Plus, if he's in the trees, that makes him way more challenging to find if its dark out.
Mr Major: Whatever. We can't just stand around her talking about it. Let's just go. The longer we wait, the longer he might be in danger. Just imagine we could swoop in at the nick of time to save him on some hero shit. But because of the little talk we're having, we probably might be ten seconds too late to that outcome.
Timmon: That's crazy. But you're right. Let's go find that man.