Return To Primordial Island by Rick Poldark (read my book .txt) 📕

gibbons swung to lower branches, looking down on the human party. They inflated their throats, like bull frogs, crying out as they deflated them.

“Those look like Siamang,” said Mary. “They’re endangered in our home dimension.”

Jason counted tens of them. “They look like they’re flourishing here.”

“They live in monogamous pairs,” explained Mary, her tone almost mocking. She looked at Susan, smirking. “Except when a group has multiple adult males.”

“Sounds like some people I know,” quipped Susan.

Jason noticed the exchanged and appeared amused. Peter was oblivious to the whole thing. His mind was on more important matters.

“They’re patrolling,” said Mary. “They’re letting the others know we’re here. We must be at the edge of their territory.”

“What if they attack?” asked Tracey.

“Not likely,” said Mary. “We’re too big, and there are too many of us.”

“Let’s go,” said Peter.

They entered into the jungle, staying close to the snaking river. This was new territory, and they had no idea what was in store for them. Driven by a grave sense of purpose, they pushed on toward the Temple of the Simian King.

Chapter 11

Peter and Jason took point, while the others followed behind. They crept through the bushes and small trees, jumping over large, above-ground roots and pushing aside thick vines. The gibbons hooted and whooped above, following them.

Jason scanned the ground and touched tree trunks, his fingers probing scratches and marks as they walked. “So, Peter, how’ve you been holding up?”

“I was captured, offered up as a sacrifice, was almost eaten by a Spinosaurus, and was swallowed whole by a Titanoboa. Other than that, I’m doing great.”

“I guess your negotiations with the lizard men didn’t go well.”

Peter smirked. “That’s an understatement.”

“It’s a good thing you have those orbs,” pressed Jason. “I’m sure they saved your life.”

“They did. The life orb did anyway.”

“What about the death orb?” inquired Jason. “You haven’t used that one yet?”

Peter shrugged. “I don’t know how, and I’m not sure I want to learn.”

“Why is that? If we get in a tight spot with a nasty dino or the lizard men, you could wipe them out,” Jason snapped his fingers, “just like that.”

“That’s what I don’t like about it,” said Peter. “In fact, it straight-up terrifies me. It sounds too easy. Something that devastating shouldn’t be so easy.”

“Nothing easy about taking a life,” said Jason. “Trust me. I know.”

“The last person to wield it fancied himself a Death Lord,” reminded Peter. “It consumed him.”

“Maybe he was the wrong person to have it,” offered Jason.

“Maybe,” said Peter.

“You’ve been talking about balance and all…and yet you don’t want to use the death orb’s power. You’ve been focusing entirely on the life orb.”

This hadn’t occurred to Peter. “Do you think it’s a mistake not learning to use it?”

Jason shrugged. “Maybe it’s not meant to be wielded by the one who wields the life orb. Maybe that’s the balance.”

Peter furrowed his brow. “Interesting. That’s entirely possible. I wonder who then would wield it to offer balance. It certainly wasn’t Mike Deluca.”

“Oh, definitely not that guy,” chuckled Jason. “Who says that power has to be evil? Death is a natural part of life. Without it, there’d be population explosion, the devastation of entire ecosystems.”

“That’s true,” said Peter. “Only the death orb is followed by an evil entity on this island.”

Jason grew quiet. He shot Peter a sideways glance. “What do you mean?”

“Something evil offered to teach me how to use it.”

“How do you know it’s evil?”

Peter shrugged his shoulders. “It just feels evil. It’s what communed with Mike Deluca and twisted him. Tracey thinks it made Flight 207 crash here. She thinks it brought us here.”

“Why would it do that?”

“To get off the island.” Peter hesitated. He and Jason had been on this island together for what felt like months or even years. In that time, Jason had only expressed a passing interest in the orbs and Peter’s dominion over them. He found Jason’s sudden interest peculiar. He decided to withhold the bit of information about Nazimaa being imprisoned in the Temple of the Simian King. No one, other than Tracey, needed to know about that. He planned on avoiding Nazimaa anyway, so he found it irrelevant.

“When you were left for dead by the Zehhaki, how did you recover?” asked Peter. He noticed Jason’s demeanor change. It was a brief flash, a one-second micro-expression of emotion that was quickly covered up by Jason’s cool veneer.

“I was exhausted and injured,” said Jason. “I suppose I just needed a rest.”

Their conversation was interrupted by a siamang who dropped down in front of them, blocking their path. It hung from a branch by one arm, its white-bearded face regarding Peter with great interest.

“Uh, Mary?”

Mary broke from the others and ran up next to Peter. “It’s okay. He’s just checking you out.”

The trees and vines around them came alive with other siamangs, who hung out, observing the intruders into their territory.

Susan yelped, pressing herself up against Tracey for protection. Tracey put her arm around Susan in support, as a parent does to a frightened child.

One of the siamangs jumped onto Susan’s shoulders, causing her to screech in terror. She whirled around and around, swinging her spear, and it circled her head, swinging from her shoulders. “Get it off me! Get it off me!”

Tracey backed away, startled and apparently uncertain of what to do.

Jason laughed out loud. “He likes you, hun.”

“Calm down,” said Mary, stepping toward Susan. “He’s just curious.”

“Curious?” squealed Susan, who now stood absolutely still and rigid, grimacing as the small primate used her as his own personal jungle gym. “He won’t hurt me?”

“I don’t think so,” said Mary.

The siamang groped her, rifling through her pockets, grabbing her spear momentarily and letting it go.