I am on a writing marathon today!
I can't believe I already have the second part! You might even see a third soon, too, depending on how long I can keep this energy going. Have fun reading!
Jungle Paradise Part Two
Rated: PG
For a moment, MacGyver couldn’t believe he was still conscious. Everything had happened so quickly that it took his body a moment to catch up to the sudden stop of the plane, feeling as if he was still moving, dizziness overcoming him. Taking deep breaths to regain his bearings, he slowly sat up, touching the cut on his forehead. The blood was starting to coagulate, feeling thick and sticky. It didn’t seem too severe. Turning to look at Jack, he noticed he was still braced against impact, his body huddled against the controls. He appeared to be breathing, but MacGyver didn’t know if he was awake.
“Jack,” he said. “Hey, Jack.” He reached out to touch him, and he jumped, startled. He looked at MacGyver, blinking rapidly. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah, I think so,” Jack said. He looked around the mostly destroyed plane, amazed they had made it intact. “Wow, what a rush! Do you think we can get out of here?”
MacGyver pushed on the door on his side. It was bent inward, making it difficult to move. Positioning himself as best as he could in the cramped cockpit, he began kicking on the door, using all the force available to him until it gave, creaking open.
“Come on,” he said, gesturing for Jack to follow him.
They crawled out of the partial opening, squeezing themselves through until they were outside. Still shaken, Jack bent over and took deep gasps, trembling with adrenaline, grateful to be alive. MacGyver’s legs were wobbly with his own shock, but he managed to make it over to one of the plane’s engines. It was still attached and smoking, emitting the harsh, acrid odor of burnt metal. He examined it, reaching out to touch it slightly. Even when he barely touched it, it was extremely hot. Wincing, he withdrew his hand and held it.
“What’s wrong? Is it on fire?” Jack asked.
“No, but it’s smoking.”
They looked around at the scattered debris, parts of the fuselage completely ripped away, leaving enormous, gaping holes and rent, twisted metal dangling with jagged edges and exposing the plane’s contents like internal organs. It was flooded with swamp water and its already decrepit condition made it appear as if the crash had happened years ago instead of minutes. The only indication that its destruction was recent was the smoking of the engines.
“How…how did we ever survive that without even breaking a bone?” Jack asked, his eyes wide in fascination, unable to look away from the glorious damage. “Man, that’s intense!”
“I don’t know. We were lucky, I guess,” MacGyver said.
They turned to look at the wild path the plane had taken, noticing the tops of trees had been sheared off like blades of grass. Jack began to laugh, relieved it was over and releasing his tension.
“Look at that!” he said. “That is so amazing! We did it, Mac! We’re alive! Woo hoo!” His voice echoed through the jungle.
“Yeah, but…” MacGyver said, frowning and looking back at the extensive damage to the plane.
“But what?”
“Well, there’s only so many repairs I can make to that plane. I’m afraid it’s beyond my abilities at this point. We can’t fly out of here.”
“Ah, well that’s okay. We can go find some help. I’ve brought tons of supplies, and maybe we can look for that treasure along the way.”
He began to walk towards the plane, but MacGyver restrained him, holding his arm. “Jack, do you even know where we are?” He asked.
Jack looked around. “Hmm…palm trees, colorful birds, swamps, jungle…we have to be in the Amazon,” he said.
The sounds of the jungle were deafening, birds screeching and reptiles hissing. It was teeming with life from every corner, and MacGyver felt that hundreds of pairs of eyes were watching his every move. Unbearable heat and humidity made his clothes cling to him, dampened with profuse sweat.
“It sure looks like the Amazon,” he said.
“Yeah, and it feels like it too,” Jack said, removing his jacket and rolling up his sleeves. “Man, it’s hot!”
“The question is where we are in the Amazon,” MacGyver said. “If we can locate the river, it might make it easier to navigate through the jungle and get us to help sooner.”
“Or to the treasure.”
“How can you think of the treasure after what we’ve just been through?”
Jack shrugged. “I dunno,” he said.
MacGyver rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Never mind,” he said. “Look, do you have maps in your plane?”
“What?”
“Maps, Jack. Do you have any maps in your plane?”
”I never carry maps. I rely on the information up here,” Jack said, pointing at his head.
“Yeah, that’s comforting. Listen Jack, if you don’t have any maps, how did you expect to find this treasure?”
Jack laughed. “No one knows where it is,” he said. “What good would a map do me?”
MacGyver closed his eyes, not believing the stupidity of his argument. “That’s okay,” he said. “I guess we’ll just have to find the river ourselves. What kind of supplies did you bring?”
“I’ll show you.”
Jack led MacGyver back to the torn open plane. They waded around inside, swamp water sloshing around their ankles.
“Boy, I hope my stuff didn’t get too waterlogged,” Jack said, searching the soaked contents. “Ah-ha! Here we go!”
He handed MacGyver several large duffel bags and he carried them outside, unzipping them to look inside.
“See? What did I tell you? I’ve taken your advice about being prepared. How do you like that? We’ve got ration bars, water, and…a raft.”
Jack pulled out a dusty, rumpled, misshapen form. MacGyver stared at it.
“No way, Jack,” he said. “I recognize that. Isn’t that the same raft you tried to use when we were on the Colorado River last year?”
“Ex-actly.”
“That thing is full of holes! It’s the cheapest and poorest excuse for a raft I’ve ever seen!”
“It’s not that bad.”
“Not that bad? We were sinking the last time we used that thing! I had to keep bailing water out of it!”
Jack looked sadly at the raft as if MacGyver had just insulted his firstborn son, pouting. “Well, I didn’t bring any other rafts. What do you suggest we do?” he asked.
“You can’t navigate a river as long and as large as the Amazon in a flimsy rubber raft,” MacGyver said. “I wouldn’t even trust that thing in a bathtub. No, you need something with solid construction. We’ll build ourselves a raft once we reach the river.”
“How are we going to find the river?”
“Well, a map would be ideal, but short of that…” his eyes scanned the jungle. “There is some plant life that exists near the river. If we keep our eyes out for it, it should tell us the location. For now, all we can do is walk.”
“I’ll carry the supplies,” Jack said, lifting the duffel bags.
“Are you sure you don’t need help?” MacGyver asked. “Those are kind of cumbersome and heavy.”
“Sure, no problem. We can switch.”
“All right.”
MacGyver began to walk, but the dense foliage made it difficult, causing him to teeter, his arms flailing as he tried to remain upright and maintain his balance. Thick fronds slapped him in the face.
“Mac, wait,” Jack said, watching him struggle. He dropped the bags and headed back to the plane. He retrieved a machete and returned, handing it to him. “Use this. It might make things easier.”
MacGyver looked at the machete. “Thanks,” he said. He was about to continue walking when he studied the machete a little closer. “Isn’t this the machete you used to get me to my surprise birthday party?” He asked.
Jack winked. “You’ve got it, pal,” he said. “It was useful then, and it’s still useful today.”
MacGyver smiled and patted Jack on the shoulder. “Let’s go,” he said.
He began chopping through the plants to clear a path as they walked, and the exertion was causing him to sweat and suffer from the intense heat even more. He stopped to remove his shirt, revealing the white tank top he wore underneath. Tossing the shirt aside, he continued, slashing the way towards what he hoped would eventually be the river.
“Do you have the water?” He asked Jack, his throat feeling parched.
“Yeah,” Jack said.
“Pass some up, would ‘ya?”
“Sure.”
Jack handed MacGyver the water and he took several sips of it, relieving his thirst at least partially. “Thanks,” he said, handing the water back to Jack, who also took sips of it. “We’ll have to work hard not to get dehydrated out here.”
A small mosquito found the back of MacGyver’s neck and began sucking greedily. He felt the sting and the tickle of the insect against his skin and swatted it away, not giving it a second thought. After all, there were greater dangers to be faced in the jungle than a mere mosquito. He was concentrating more on getting Jack and himself rescued than on anything the seemingly harmless, tiny being could inflict. All he would have left over from the bite would be the usual itchy discomfort of a small welt, which he wasn’t looking forward to but it would be a minor inconvenience compared to the heat and the limited supplies they had. The main challenge was to survive and get out of the jungle. Never once did he think that another unforeseen challenge would soon alter his life in ways he never imagined.
To be continued…
"If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer."
--Henry David Thoreau
brains+brawn+beauty+personality=MacGyver
Just give me a moment to post it! 
