The pale-haired boy’s face was contorted in a grimace, his breathing irregular, both forearms chewed and mauled and covered in blood. Several more shallow gashes crossed his chest and the front of his thighs, staining his gray tunic and loose gray denim cutoffs a dirty red, but they weren’t quite as serious as his shredded forearms. Zack looked around, not really sure of what he was looking for, but knowing he would know when he saw it. ‘It’ turned out to be a small tree a short distance away, which Zack examined quickly, then grabbed a small branch and yanked down, tearing a strip of bark down its trunk. Another branch produced a second strip of bark. Carefully he tore the two strips off at the lower ends, snapped the branches off the upper, and went back to the other young man, who had collapsed against the larger tree. Zack wound one strip of bark around each forearm, binding together the shredded skin. He tensed and moaned as the juice from the bark touched raw skin, his hands almost going for the bindings, but Zack held his hands and squeezed very gently until he relaxed. The juice from the bark, Zack remembered, contained a chemical that acted like a topical anesthetic and would numb the pain until the worst of the wounds closed.
The boy struggled to get up but Zack gently pushed him back. “No,” he said. “Don’t get up. It’s not coming back. Just lie there; we’ll talk.” Zack crouched next to him and regarded him evenly, with a hint of curiosity, but not staring outright.
The young man winced as Zack used scraps from the strips to dab at the gashes on his chest. “Who are you?” the young man asked.
“Zack,” Zack answered. He was wondering what the pale-haired boy was doing in a forest. He was also wondering what he was doing in this forest. “And you?”
“Scott.” He looked around. “Are you sure it isn’t coming back? It seemed like you scared it away too easy.”
“I don’t think it will. You did a pretty good job on it,” Zack assured him.
Scott smiled self-deprecatingly. “It did a pretty good job on me, too.”
Zack almost suppressed a grin, asking only, “What was that thing anyway? What happened?”
Scott looked uncertain. “I don’t know what it was. All I know is, I woke up in the middle of this jungle, took about two steps, and then that thing was all over me. It got me totally by surprise. It did this — ” he made a slight motion at the claw marks across his thighs — “right before you fell on it.”
“I’m sorry,” Zack said sincerely.
“Don’t be,” Scott assured him. “It’s not very serious. It feels much better already, and I don’t want to stay here and find out if that thing is going to bring reinforcements.”
Scott was right; Zack did not want to stay there any longer either for the same reason, but he wanted to let Scott rest enough to get his strength back. If he was ready now, well, then —
“Let’s go then,” Zack said, helping Scott to his feet. “You’re a good fighter, but the last thing either of us needs right now is another battle.”
Scott nodded and followed Zack in the opposite direction of the black creature’s escape. Zack felt a little nervous having to walk on the forest floor — he had felt safer up in the trees — but Scott might not be able to fend off another attack by himself … so Zack walked with him. He stopped Scott twice and both held perfectly still, eyes darting, listening hard, but there were no sounds of danger and they continued. They walked a little more than a kilometer before the trees thinned out and left a large grassy clearing. The sunlight actually penetrated there and lit a small spring with warm, cheerful light, a beautiful sight after the gloom of the forest. Scott gratefully peeled off the bits of bark from his chest and waded into the spring. He dunked himself up to his neck, sighing in relief and turning the water cloudy russet. Zack tiptoed around the edge of the spring and watched Scott carefully. There was something unusual about the water and he couldn’t say just what; but whatever it was, it was not dangerous. He simply sensed that it was different. He crouched at the edge and dipped a finger in the spring; it felt like nothing but water.
Scott pulled himself out, dripping, and called to Zack. “Look!” Zack turned to look at him. The gashes on his chest and thigh were little more than faint ragged lines, and the bark on his forearms had slipped off, revealing whole, healthy skin, though covered in a generous mat of pale gray hairs. “This is some water!” Scott laughed and pulled off his soaked shirt.
Zack stared incredulously. The water had healed Scott’s cuts; what if they drank it? Zack dropped to one knee by the edge of the spring and sniffed the water. All he could smell was the tang of rich soil and crushed grasses. He leaned and took a handful of water; it tasted a little sweet, but otherwise not at all. He took another handful, then simply dropped flat on his belly and dunked in his chin. There was nothing strange about the water except that suddenly he felt much less tired, with more energy than before, not a restless type of energy, but a strong type. It was like a spring of life.
Scott stretched himself out on his belly next to Zack and drank the water noisily. Even so, Zack suddenly jumped up and turned around in one motion, his body moving almost automatically into a sidewise fighting stance.