The Excursion

By Rick Hartford

It is the early dawn and I am lying under a palm tree where the beach meets the jungle on a tropical island in the Pacific Ocean, one nameless dot among many on the chart.

The sand is crusted all over my body. Good camouflage. I am staring intently into the fog which is being lifted, inch by inch, by the rising sun. Small black crabs occasionally skitter across my body. I shiver as they do so.

Gradually the fog recedes and I see our ship, a 40 foot Reliant which bobs at anchor perhaps 75 yards away.

As her hull becomes more distinct my eyes narrow. Nothing is moving on board. There is a small power boat tied up at her stern. It is the boat that the pirates came on just as the sun was setting. I was with the captain below looking at the chart when they arrived. Brian, the captain, looked through the hatch when they approached the stern, a grim look on his face. He bent down and opened the port locker, removing the Colt Python and sticking it into the back of his belt.

“Looks like trouble,” he said. “Tell the guests to stay below.” I nodded and moved quickly up toward the bow where the Carpenters, a lovely couple on a honeymoon cruse were in their cabin, changing out of their swim suits into dinner outfits. We had done that each night of our cruise. It was a bit corny but lovely at the same time, summoning up the glamour of an earlier era. I had selected a double breasted white silk suit for the occasion. Mable’s iridescent dinner gown was stunning. Her husband Phil was dressed in a white tuxedo, white bow tie and white Panama hat. A steak was marinating on a grill on the stern.

There were six of them in the power boat, each with automatic weapons.

Capt. Brian waited until they were along side and brought the Python to bear, shooting the one who was preparing to board. He fired again.The report of the Colt brought time to a surreal standstill. I dove off the side the moment the pirates returned fire, staying underwater for a long as possible as bullets from the machine guns zizzled by me in boiling bubbles. I stayed in the water in the shallows, shivering as I waited for the orange sun to sink into the ocean.

Darkness.

I set about to find branches to bury me for the night.

It was mid morning when I saw one of the pirates untie the runabout from the cleat and start the engine. Two other pirates joined him in the boat and they began to make their way toward the beach. It would only be seconds before they saw me. I prepared to run. That’s when I heard it. A low growl to my left. I turned and saw that it was a black panther. It looked at me intently and then turned and padded a few feet away. Then it turned back to me and stopped. And then looked into the jungle.

It was telling me to follow it. I knew this now. It was as though the panther was speaking to me. I could hear its voice in my head.

Hurry!

I ran after it into the jungle, tropical birds bursting from the branches above us. I ran at a quick pace, following close to the panther. Bullets raked the palm tree in front of me, cutting it in half, followed closely by the ugly sound of machine gun fire. It was a miracle that I had stumbled a split second before the shots were fired. I glanced back to see a pirate take aim again and launched myself into the undergrowth, keeping low but running hard. I was drenched in sweat.

I lost sight of the panther for a few moments but then saw movement up ahead. It was more of a blur as it was perfectly camouflaged in the dim light. Up ahead I heard a thundering sound. It was a waterfall and the panther was headed right for it, disappearing from sight when it launched into a foaming, booming chute of water which dropped 100 feet or more. I followed suit, thinking that drowning would be better than a shot in the back in the middle of nowhere.

When I hit the water I must have been pummeled 20 feet deep, then fighting my way to the surface and bursting into the air, gasping. I could see the panther pulling himself out of the water on the bank on the other side. It waited until I joined it on the bank. Then it turned and led the way deeper into the velvet gloom. I turned just in time to see the pirates above us, taking careful aim. I felt something at the cuff of my pants; it was the panther, dragging me backward! Good thing, as several rounds ate up the dirt where I had been standing.

The panther began to slow ahead and when it turned a corner I got a glimpse of what had to be our destination: It was a palace, built from glittering precious stones, with diamonds and rubies and a roof of golden thatch. There was a bamboo throne in front of it and sitting in that throne was the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on, naked save a huge knife in a sheath at her waist and a bow and arrow slung across her chest.

“I am Panthera, queen of the jungle,” she said.

“You speak English!” I said.

“I was dropped here by my British parents when their plane was about to crash almost 20 years ago. I was alone and was taken in by the black panthers, who raised me and told me that I had been expected and that I would one day rule the jungle.

And it came to be.”

Just then there was the sound of a roar from the direction of the beach. Panthera listened, a frown gathering on her gorgeous face. It only made her look more beautiful.

“It is from my lion spotters,” she said. Just then a large bat emerged from the tops of the trees and landed on Panthera’s shoulder right by her ear. She cocked her head and listened, her eyes closed.

There are six from the ship, three with weapons,” she said. “One is wounded and can barely stand. The men who followed us have retreated to the beach.

“Three of them are my people.” I said. “They have been taken prisoner. I have to return to see if I can help them.”

She thought about this for a moment. “You will have an escort,” she said.

The pirates on the beach heard an unearthly undulating cry from high up in the jungle. As they stood on the beach the big cats came for them.

A dozen black panthers emerged from the shadows and began forming a semi-circle around the pirates. Panthera and I came down the middle. She had her bow strung but held low.

The pirates held their weapons the same way.

One of them spoke.

“We are here to trade, nothing more. You can keep these three when we leave and then they can go back to their ship.

We take the kid.”

Panthera looked at me.

“Who is he to you?” She said to the pirate spokesman. “Why is this man so important?”

“He is the son of the head of the Military Industrial Entertainment Complex,” the pirate said.

“We entertain the idea of getting a hefty price for his ransom.”

He laughed at his own joke.

“What is this complex?” Panthera said.

“I guess you missed it, sister,” the pirate said. The Military Industrial Entertainment Complex rules he world. They decide everything. Who lives, who dies, who you worship, what you want. I’m sure daddy wants his little boy back, in one piece. We’ll leave here for a submarine right out there past the cove.”

“Panthera looked at me. “Is this real, this organization?”

I looked down at the sand beneath my feet .

“I would go with them,” I said. “But you know that they will kill you and all your loved ones when I do.”

She looked away from me.

“You are fools,” Panthera said to the pirates. She immediately pulled her arrow back and fired, taking the lead pirate to his grave with an arrow between his eyes. The others raised their weapons and with bloody yells charged at us, firing from the hip.

An arrow passed through a second pirate’s throat. He dropped his rifle and grabbed the arrow with his hands, trying to remove it. His mouth was open to scream but nothing came out.

The third pirate’s gun jammed and he frantically pulled back the slide where a round was stuck. An arrow found his heart and he fell.

With the bride and groom smiling in the background, Captain Brian raised from kneeling in the sand and ran forward, still doubled over. He came to me as if to embrace me, then shoving the Colt Python in my chest and pulling the trigger.

“Capitalist piglet!" he yelled.

Captain Brian rose and smiled and raised the gun to Panthera before she had a chance to load another arrow.

“By by, your highness,” he said.

A black panther sunk its teeth in his firing arm before he could pull the trigger. The other panthers descended on him as he flailed and screamed for mercy.

There was none to be granted.

I lay in Panthera’s arms, my life draining into the sand.

She looked down at me and smiled.

“You can stay here, and be with us forever. Would you like that?”

The just married couple stood to the side, still beaming.

“This was just the greatest start to our honeymoon!” Mable called out, her arm around her husband’s waist.

“So realistic! You guys really had me going for a while there,” Phil called out. “This is just the ultimate excursion!”

“Meet you back at the boat,” Mable called out, as they turned and walked to the motorboat, hand in hand, without a care in the world.