A wet sucking noise sounded through the swamp as Victoria waded through the muck in her bare feet. Her slippers, removed when she set off, were not up to this task, her pajama bottoms already attesting to how ruined they would be if she hadn’t thought to take them off. As she swung her machete again to clear away the brownish green foliage ahead, she stopped and became very still. There in front of her, less than five feet away, was some weird reptilian creature. It had no visible head, mouth or eyes, only an ovaloid body with six legs terminating in wicked claws, green scales hiding it amongst the plants. It seemed to be lying on its back, legs flat against the ground.
Victoria took a step back in fright, and then another intending to run, but then she paused. It was only her first day here, but she had yet to find anything she would consider food. She knew crocodiles and snakes from earth were edible, and if she walked away from… whatever this thing was, there was no telling when she’d be able to find something else to eat. Of course, she didn’t even have any fire to cook it over…
Victoria glanced at her sponsorship offers. She could take the easy way out, accept the offer that gave her the fire-starting skill. It would guarantee her safety in the here and now, but who knows what the sick deities that dragged her here would throw at her next. Then again, that wouldn’t matter if she died in this damn swamp.
She could hold on for now. Wait for better offers. So thinking, she marked several of the twisting trees around the animal so that she could find her way back and got to work. Firstly, she climbed the driest tree she could find to get to the upper branches, hopefully drier than those on the ground. She chopped off thin slivers, this would be the kindling for the fire. While up there she also grabbed two long sticks and a couple smaller ones. The next task, finding a dry enough spot to dig a hole, was a little more difficult, but she lucked out and found a raised portion of the ground that managed to not be as waterlogged as everything else that she thought she could work with. After several hours, she eventually had a set up like the one she’d seen in Castaway.
Mindlessly rubbing those sticks together was the worst. Hour after hour of back-and-forth motions had her terribly worried that she was doing it wrong and equally uncomfortable on how rough it was on her hands, but the joy at the first signs of flame was indescribable.
By the time she got a small ember going, it was already dark out, she was exhausted and sore and thirsty and covered in bug bites, and still she had to feed the flames. This, however, was magnitudes easier. When she had a steady fire, she nearly collapsed to the ground. She would get some sleep now, too weary to do anything else, and hope the fire survived without her. She seemed to be doing a lot of hoping recently.
If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.
Hardly a minute after she allowed herself to relax, she was fast asleep.
When again she woke, it was already midday, and the fire seemed to have gone out. The flush of outrage and frustration shocked her out of weariness immediately and she desperately lifted the charred wood to find still-glowing embers beneath. It was still salvageable.
Immediately she got back to trying for embers, but after ten minutes she realized it was for naught. It was a devastating blow to her morale. She felt like crying. She felt like laying down and accepting death. It was only out of a sense of stubborn pride that she kept going. She would not allow herself to whine about how awful everything was for her. She wasn’t some spoiled little baby that was gonna cry over things being a little difficult. Some foul-smelling swamp in the middle of nowhere on a universal scale wasn’t going to be the end of someone like her. So, she sucked it up, picked up that damn stick, and got to work. By evening that day, she was sore again, but she had another fire going. She would not let this one die too. She stacked sticks on it until she worried more would only serve to suffocate the flame and took up her machete. She needed something to take her anger out on right now, and she had the perfect, productive outlet.
So thinking, she waded to where that damn reptile was. The markings on the trees gave it away, luckily it seemed not to have moved from the spot it was in the day before. The frustration she’d been experiencing was at the forefront of her mind as she swung her machete down at the creature. Unfortunately, that frustration was not enough, and the machete bounced off harmlessly as all six of the creature’s legs shot up to stab at whatever had touched it. A vertical mouth opened in the middle of its body as well, filled with barbed teeth. The legs and teeth swung through empty air, Victoria safely standing behind it… or in front of it? It was hard to tell when it had no head.
Regardless, another stab had similar results as the first, the scales of the creature apparently very sturdy. With new direction it began crawling at her, wildly swiping with its claws and tearing at Victoria. One claw found its way into her shoulder and dragged her closer to that terrible maw.
Fueled by adrenaline, she took yet another stab directly at its open mouth. Apparently, its innards were not as tough as its hide, as the blade easily sank deep inside and hit something vital. The creature jerked backwards, damaging Victoria’s shoulder further as the claw came loose violently. The pain was secondary as Victoria took another stab at the damn thing.
After moments of thrashing wildly in the air it stopped and lay motionless on the ground, but she stabbed forward again just to make sure. Definitely dead. With no time to care about the wound she’d just gotten, she grabbed it by the leg and began dragging it back. It wasn’t that large, really. Only about the size of a large dog, maybe five feet long and three feet at its widest. She began the butchering process as soon as she got back. Despite its alien physiology, it came apart easily enough, skinned, cleaned, and stuck on burned sticks to cook. She even managed to keep the scales in one piece, which she fashioned into a simple wrap for her feet and legs.
She would still need to find fresh water, and soon. For now, though? It would be enough. The dehydration headache wasn’t crippling. Not yet. As she sat by the fire, she steeled herself for the days to come. And she really, really hoped her wound wouldn’t get infected.