Chapter 12: Terrors of the Amazon II (Part 2)
January 2000
***
Joseph's POV
The chaos brimmed like an overflowing dam—screams, pounding feet, snapping branches. But amidst the frenzy, one thought struck like lightning: Lola.
Where is she?!
The tent!
She was still in the tent!
For a brief second, I stood in a daze, my breath caught between fear and realization. Around me, people ran blindly, screaming for safety. But mine—mine was Lola.
"Quick, go! Go get Lola!" Penny's voice broke through the fog. Our eyes met; hers were sharp, commanding. I nodded, snapping into motion.
Dashing through the confusion, I dodged panicked bodies. A man ran just ahead—until a jaguar leapt, claws outstretched. It pounced on him with terrifying ease. His scream was cut short as his neck was ripped in half. Frozen by horror, I forced my legs to keep moving.
I reached the tent and flung the flap open.
"Quick, get up," I urged, my voice rough with urgency.
Lola was trembling, fear wide in her eyes, but she moved. I grabbed a single backpack and pulled her close. We couldn't afford more. Time was bleeding out.
We stepped outside—into carnage.
Just as we stepped out of the tent, a jaguar just killed another man, right in front of us; lifting its head, its gaze fell on us, JUST AS YOU IMAGINED WE WERE IT NEXT TARGET!!!
Lola tightened her grip on my arm.
My heart slammed against my chest. We were prey—and the predator had found us.
***
Captain penny POV (earlier before the attack)
I was at the rear ensuring safety was the utmost priority, checking all edges for I knew the amazon was not child's play !!!.
I had felt we were been watched but, by whom was my guess not what !!! Scared as anyone on the inside, but has a brave Expression on the outside. Caleb noticed my composure was nothing but a facade and assured me it was going to be all right !!!. I had just felt assured
And… then…
it began !!!
"A scream"
" A loud scream 😱😱"
Was heard into the terrors of the night.
Quick
"…Like…a… bolt"
I dashed towards the source of the sound. It was from Ama's room.
I went in, hoping to salvage whatever situation that had caused her to be terrified, before it got out of control !!!
"Ama, what happened?" I Asked, my voice low but urgent.
Ama was pressed into the far corner of her tent, eyes wide, breathing fast. "It's… a… s-s-spider," she managed, pointing toward the base of her supplies.
I followed her gaze and approached carefully. I bent down, peered into the shadows—then suddenly straightened up. A moment passed.
Then I laughed.
Not a mocking laugh, but one of relief. "Ama," i said between chuckles, "it's just a jungle tree spider. Harmless."
Ama blinked, clearly still on edge, her face caught between fear and embarrassment.
I moved towards her and knelt beside her. "It's all right," I said. "Anyone could've reacted the same way."
Outside, hushed voices and rustling tents echoed with rising concern. The scream had stirred something in everyone. You could feel the weight in the air. Eyes darted into the shadows between the trees.
I stepped out to face the gathering. My expression was composed but firm.
"Listen," I said, raising my voice just enough to cut through the murmurs. "We're in the heart of something wild and unforgiving, but this—" i gestured back toward the tent, "—this was nothing to fear. A spider. No harm done. We can't afford to unravel over every sound or shadow. We hold the line, understand? Together."
Nods followed. The group began to breathe again. A little. Some even managed uneasy smiles. My voice carried steadiness, something we all needed.
Then—
A single gunshot cracked through the jungle.
Sharp. Suddenly. Distant.
It silenced everything.
This time uneasiness weighed around me !!!
— — —
I turned sharply, scanning the darkness. But no one knew where the sound came from.
And just like that, the air changed again.
Heavier. Colder.
Fear returned—quiet, but real.
And we realized…
The jungle was still awake.
---
A guard rushed into Ama's tent, stumbling as he reached us. His eyes were wide, his face pale.
It was Gibs, on of the guards I had chosen to watch and take point.
"We're being attacked!" he cried out, before collapsing to the ground, his body rigid with shock.
"By whom?" I demanded, kneeling beside him. But the answer wasn't a whom—it was a what.
He stared past us, lips parted, unable to speak. His body trembled, then stilled.
Joseph dropped to his side, brushing my arms aside gently. "Let me…" he whispered, checking his pulse.
Nothing.
His skin had already begun to cool. He was gone. Just like that. On our fourth night in the jungle, the first life had been lost—and none of us knew how or why.
I stood slowly. "No," I muttered, voice thick with disbelief. For a moment,for a moment something passed through me—grief, maybe, or guilt. Then it vanished behind the familiar steel in my eyes.
I unholstered my pistol and stepped beyond the ring of tents, my silhouette rigid with command.
I saw Joseph followed, through my rear view cautiously.
And then we saw them.
Four jaguars, sleek and silent, pacing just at the tree line. A mother—and her three nearly grown cubs. Their eyes gleamed in the torchlight, unbothered by our presence. Predators unafraid.
My grip on the pistol tightened. Joseph could sense the tension rolling off me.
"They're not hunting for food," he murmured. "They're making a statement." Joseph said.
I didn't respond. My silence was louder than words.
This was no longer just survival.
It was a declaration.
— — —
Next to one of the jaguars, partially hidden behind tall grass and shadows, lay another body. Still. Lifeless.
I approached carefully, lowering my weapon to examine the figure. It was kofi, one of my strong men, the second guard I picked to take point and watch the front of the camp along with gibs.
A bullet wound in the jaguar's shoulder explained the shot we had all heard—but the price had been high. Kofi had managed to fire a shot before being torn down. His body was twisted unnaturally, blood soaking into the soil.
I felt the breath leave my lungs. Two dead. Our group of fifty had just become forty-eight.
Then—chaos.
People poured out of their tents—twelve of them, excluding Lola, who remained inside. The rest—thirty-five in total—rushed from Ama's tent, where they had gathered after her scream. Together, they flooded toward the commotion.
Confusion and fear surged like wildfire. Someone screamed. Another tripped over a log. Whispers turned into cries. Teeth clattered with raw panic.
The jaguars didn't flinch. They stood their ground—silent, coordinated, like shadows with claws. Their yellow eyes flickered with intelligence. Predators who had waited all night for one single crack in our defenses.
And they found it.
Ama's scream had distracted the guards. Most of them had shifted closer to her tent, unknowingly abandoning their stations. The jaguars had been watching, circling, patient. The moment we flooded to one spot—they struck.
It was their territory. We were the trespassers.
The air grew heavier. Louder. Unstable.
I raised my hand to call for silence—but it was too late.
A traveler, one of the young ones smuggled aboard out of pity or perhaps naïveté, stood frozen in the crowd. His chest rose and fell in ragged breaths. His eyes, wide and wet, locked on the jaguars surrounding us.
And then he screamed.
"RUN! RUN—RUN!"
That was all it took.
The camp exploded into motion.
A wave of panic surged like a tsunami. People pushed, stumbled, tripped, collided with each other. Tents collapsed as bodies tore through them. Someone knocked over the water barrel. Flashlights flew from hands. Boots pounded the dirt in every direction.
No formation. No leadership. No plan.
Only terror.
The hunters—armed, trained, confident—became the haunted.