Prologue of Indiana Jones and the Mystery of the Jaguar

Posted by Goodsport from adsl-216-102-199-185.dsl.snfc21.pacbell.net on June 23, 2000 at 02:39:54:

Prologue

    Indiana Jones glanced up to see three hundred pounds of solid rock tip over the edge of the ravine and fall straight towards him. He looked to the left then the right, trying to find an escape but there was none!

    Suddenly, he spotted an over hanging tree limb, its roots planted firmly on the opposite side of the canyon. Running to the edge of his side of the rocky plateau, he unraveled his whip and flung it across the gap, wrapping it firmly around the branch. Taking in a deep breath Indy held it, grabbed the studded grip of the whip, and swung to safety. Just as the free falling boulder hit home.

    Indiana wiped the sweat from his forehead and reattached the whip to his belt with a smooth practiced motion. He silently laid a protective hand on his pouch and felt the cold from the silver idol even through the tough leather. Suddenly two gunshot reports sounded and a bullet embedded it self in a nearby trunk. Indy whirled around only to catch the second bullet in his right hand. He felt red hot pain spread up his arm and shoulder and saw a trickle of blood fall to the ground.

    Grimacing, Indy ducked behind an outcropping rock and wrapped his hand in the cloth that had held the idol. Poking his head above the sheltered rock Indy searched the other side of the canyon but saw no one. Suddenly another shot rang out and Indy pinpointed the origin of the blast. Taking his Webley out of the holster Indy aimed it in the general direction of the last shot, then fired. He wasn't expecting to hit anything he just wanted a response. That way he could be sure of the person's position and be confident that this guy was the only Nazi still alive. He had to laugh to himself as he remembered the fun he had had, blowing those idiots up!

    Finally he got a response from the other side, but not exactly the response he was looking for! The bolder about 15 feet from him suddenly blew up in a brilliant ball of fire. The repercussion threw him against the rock wall behind. Dazed, Indy stared in amazement and suddenly decided he should move on, but just as a precaution, not that a rocket launcher would in any way put his life in danger. 'Course not!

    Scared silly, Indy scrambled up the rock wall and onto the flat, rock-strewn plain. Stumbling along attempting to avoid the crevices, Indy ran for his life. Suddenly a small cluster of shrubs in a deep indention erupted less then 30 feet of his position. He ducked instinctively and headed in a zigzag pattern for the other side of the mountain.

    Every five minutes the scenery would erupt casting hot rock and wood at him and throwing him to the ground, inducing more scrapes and bruises.

    But just as suddenly, right when he had expected the next blast to be his death warrant. Nothing happened.

    Dropping to his knees, breathing heavily Indy sagged against an appropriately placed rock. 'What is going on?' he wondered, trying to see past the rising smoke, as if once it cleared an army of soldiers would come marching through. None did.

    After a moment Indy stood and brushed off his torn pants and jacket. Slowly he sneaked to the edge of the ravine, dodging back and forth between rocks, following the trail of blood back to his original hiding spot.

    His first impression was that the other side of the canyon was clear. The dense woods were calm as if nothing had happened. Then he saw movement in the corner of his eye and ducked instinctively. There was no blast, but a lone soldier dressed in a lieutenants uniform stood slowly, carefully wielding a rocket launcher.

    Indy grinned and grabbed for his Webley, then he stopped suddenly noting the high cheekbones and flushed skin of a young eighteen year old boy.

    The kid's hair was short cropped and he had good build, but his eyes, even from Indy's distance showed fear, love, energy and courage. A mixture of emotions that Indy doubted the boy could even handle.

    Moving into the open, the Webley pointed at the soldier across the way, Indy shouted into the wind. "Put it down, soldier!"

    The kid's head shot up and he glared at Indy, starting to draw the weapon towards him.

    Indy cocked the gun and shook his head visibly. "Put it down, NOW." he called.

    The launcher dropped to the ground and the soldier put his hands up in the air, backing up a few steps.

    "Now, get outta' here!"

    The boy didn't move.

    "I said get outta' here." Indy shouted, shooting two rounds into the air above his head and the soldier took off like a scared rabbit.

    Indy's hand began to shake and cold sweat ran down his forehead into his eyes. He didn't know why he didn't shoot the Nazi, he just couldn't. His hand began to burn and he tightened his makeshift tourquenet, nearly cutting off the circulation to his fingers.

    Fighting back the urge to lay down and do nothing for three days, Indy turned and looked out across the slightly rolling plain that stretched out before him.

    It was gonna be a long trek home.

    Securing the idol in his pack Indy tucked his inured hand protectively in his jacket, leaving the sleeve empty.

    With his good hand he shoved his hat down onto his brow and set off, heading what he assumed was south. He would walk to the nearest city, and get a ride to Cairo. From there he could get help and a flight back home.

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