Survivors – A Novel of the Coming Collapse

The leader of the group, who wore jeans and a white tank top, ended the argument by grunting, “Santo Dios. ?Vamonos!” He jabbed his forefinger toward Laine’s face and ordered his silence with a stern “?Callate!” before turning to follow the others.

The five men quietly disappeared into the jungle, walking back up the hill toward the road.

Andy thought through his situation. He had no water, food, or shelter. His only tool was a tiny folding can opener. Getting back toward the road, he realized, was his only chance to get help. He also realized that he had to wait at least a half hour, to give the bandidos the opportunity to get away. If he called for help any sooner, they might come back and silence him permanently.

After a couple of minutes he caught his breath and became more conscious of his broken leg. He had never felt pain so intense in his life. Sweat poured off his forehead and dripped off the end of his nose as he did his best to straighten leg the out.

“Bastards!” Andy muttered to himself. Then, looking skyward, he said, “Give me the will to forgive them, Lord.” He waited for what he estimated was thirty minutes, praying aloud. His throat felt dry.

Laine started to crawl up the hill, pushing himself with his one good leg. There wasn’t much blood from around the protruding compound fracture. Each time that he dragged his right leg forward, the pain made him scream. The screaming set off a nearby troop of black howler monkeys. There seemed to be about eight monkeys in the troop. One of the monkeys, a large male, came to investigate. Peering down from a tree limb twenty feet above him, the monkey let out a grunt. Then it scampered off.

Laine shouted, “Yeah, some help you are, pal!”

30 The Samaritan’s Purse

“One of the common failings among honorable people is a failure to appreciate how thoroughly dishonorable some other people can be, and how dangerous it is to trust them.”

– Thomas Sowell

“One of the common failings among honorable people is a failure to appreciate how thoroughly dishonorable some other people can be, and how dangerous it is to trust them.”

-Thomas Sowell

It took four agonizing hours for Laine to crawl up the hill. His elbows and forearms were soon raw. Once he got near level ground, he realized that he still had several hundred yards to go. He doubted that his voice would carry through the dense jungle, so he didn’t bother to shout for help.

He remembered that he had been traveling due east when he was ambushed. And since he had headed south from the road, he needed to go back north to get back to it. The sun was heading toward the horizon. Andy found a loose branch and laid it down as a pointer, to indicate where he estimated that the sun would set. Now on level ground, he tried to stand again, but the pain was too much. He passed out.

Laine awoke sometime during the night to find mosquitos had been feasting on him. The pain in his leg had subsided slightly to an intense throbbing.

The buzzing of insects and the many strange noises of the jungle assaulted his ears. Gradually, he fell asleep.

He awoke to full daylight. His broken leg had started to swell. He spotted his sunset pointer stick and compared that to the current position of the sun, which filtered through the double canopy of the jungle. He adjusted his direction of travel accordingly and pressed on, crawling.

After an hour Laine could hear a truck pass by on the road. He shouted for help but realized that he was probably still too far away to be heard. But at least the sound of the truck confirmed that he was heading in the right direction. He picked out a distinctive-looking tree with a splayed top that was along his desired path and began crawling toward it. He had worked out the most comfortable crawling motion, so that he screamed in pain only occasionally.

As the day wore on, the sky clouded up, and Andrew was treated to an afternoon thunderstorm. The rain fell heavily for a few minutes. He reached up and dribbled water from the wet leaves into his mouth. He did this over and over throughout the rain shower until he estimated that he had drunk a liter. He thanked God and pressed on with his crawl over ground that was now muddy.

Late in the afternoon, he finally reached the road. He was sweaty and filthy. His upper leg had swollen to ten inches in diameter. He propped himself up with his back against a stump just ten feet from the road. He prayed that someone would pass by. Just before sunset, a Good Samaritan did.