Human Nature
Dusk arrived, to Watt’s surprise, and so did a permanent chill that settled deep into his bones. Thought ceased to exist eons ago, save for those that required the body to put one foot after another. To gasp for air, and push through the pain.
His fabric ties had long since been devoured by the jungle, and the shirt he wore now was saturated with sweat, blood, thorns, and the smeared remains of insects and plant material.
His burden was lighter, he'd combined their belongings into his pack, leaving Cornelius' bag with everything they could bear to leave behind buried beneath his last fabric tie.
They didn't need Cornelius' camera, film, or his notebooks, but Watt couldn't bring himself to bury them. It was like burying a part of Cornelius himself. Despite carrying less, Watt was as downtrodden and fatigued as ever. He heard nothing but water, and saw nothing but moss covered trees. He’d entered an endless monotony of step after step, tree after tree, breath after breath.
And later, Watt would mark this as the moment that saved him. Devoid of thought, overwhelmed with the sensation of living in the moment, existing as a mere thread in life’s tapestry. In short, he’d let everything go from his mind, making room for the truth to take hold and unfurl.
It started, as life so often did, with a light.
Watt stumbled over a rock, and as he steadied himself on hands and knees a flash of color danced on the edge of his periphery.
He shook his head, sure it was another trick of the eye.
But when he focused again, there it remained.
A pulsing dim light that wasn’t entirely green, but not entirely yellow either.
It reminded Watt of fireflies in the height of summer, flickering between the blades of grass and grain.
His heart seized, and reality shuddered. No. It couldn’t be.
Watt groaned as he pushed himself to his feet.
He set his course, direction unknown, and made his way towards the light.
The moment he stepped off the unmarked path he’d been blindly following, pebbles crunched beneath his boots.
Watt didn’t want to take his eyes off the light again, but he had to.
There’d been no rocks before, only dirt and grass and moss and—
And tiny bones and stones populating the riverbanks, bleached by the sun and eroded by time.
The origin of the river lay dead ahead, breathtaking and heartbreaking all at once.
Water crashed from a great height, hundreds of feet above his level, if not more.
Great slabs of stone cradled the mouth of the waterfall in a bowl like fashion, all red rock, withered vines, and scorched plants.
Skeleton-like, bone white trees sprouted from the riverbanks, their roots clawed out of the packed red dirt, desperate for water and stifling air.
The swelling tide threatened to overtake the banks, water churning in a fierce torrent that rendered it a foamy and disturbing brown.
Steam rose from the river, as did a great boiling stench that reeked of dead fish, rotten plants, and pollution.
Watt blinked, and the vision faded. The stones and water remained, as they always would in one fashion or another, but the smell, steam, pollution and bones, that all disappeared.
The waterfall’s surrounding flora was no longer dead and aged, but thriving and taking root in every red crevice it could.
Fish dove in and out of the water, which was still foamy, but it churned with the debris of a healthy riverbed instead of rot and death.
It was breathtaking, unreal and heavenly.
And of course, high above Watt and out of reach, was a stone tower full of light. Pulsing. Waiting. Beckoning him to try his luck, and climb to the top of the waterfall.
If Watt had undertaken this trip alone, he would’ve gone right for it.
Exhaustion and injuries be damned, he would have found a way to scale the sheer cliff faces and see once and for all what that damn light was.
If there was evidence that Fawcett had found it too, and left his mark in one way or another.
But he had not undertaken this trip alone.
Watt was swiftly reminded of that fact by the persistent barking that cut through the waterfall’s raucous noise.
He staggered, heart pounding as he searched the area for Maggie. She was close, but out of sight.
Birds, monkeys, and other small animals occupied the area, unafraid of his presence.
They watched him from a distance, curious and on high alert.
Maggie’s barking didn’t bother them, which led Watt to believe she’d been doing it for some time.
As he got closer to the base of the waterfall, her barking was dulled by its roar.
Watt stared at the powerful curtain of water, his hands curling into fists.
Darkness had started to fall in earnest, and there was no moonlight yet.
It was difficult to see what was behind the falling water, whether it was a cavern or more sheer rock.
Or perhaps a small, shallow area. Shallow, but deep enough for a man to fall down and drown in.
A cold, heavy feeling settled in Watt’s gut. He called, “Maggie?”
Maggie stopped barking. A second passed.
Then she redoubled her efforts, both in volume and ferocity.
Watt realized the sound was not coming from the waterfall, but above it.
Watt craned his neck back, trying to catch sight of her.
The peak of the waterfall was nearly impossible to see from here, and it was clear he wouldn't be able to climb the rock face even if he wanted to.
If he wanted to reach it he'd have to go around, approach it from the side.
He backed up, trying to get a better look.
There, right the precipice of the cliff before it gave way to water, stood Maggie. Upon seeing her, Watt’s heart cracked. Upon seeing him, Maggie went wild.
“I’m coming!”
Adrenaline erased all of his pains and aches, his dehydration and exhaustion.
He searched for the best way up the bluff, having to backtrack a little to do so.
Eventually he found a traversable portion and climbed, fingers scraping red rock and feet slipping every so often.
The incline was steep enough to torture his thighs, but not enough to deter him.
Maggie danced in an awkward circle which sent pebbles skittering down his way, she'd moved closer but refused to leave the peak entirely.
Watt made it to the top, aided by Maggie shoving against him to make the final push.
His chest heaved, and he only had seconds to recover as his surroundings registered.
The river was much wider up here, and a small island split the stream into two before the water spilled over the edge.
Island was a generous term, but it was large enough to house debris from the river such as vegetation and tree limbs, the stone tower thrashing light across the land like a lighthouse, and Cornelius.
Cornelius was half slumped against the tower, and upon seeing Watt he tried to stand.
Bioluminescent light flashed across his face, illuminating his wide eyes full of pain and fear.
He crumpled to the ground, his cry drowned out by the water’s demanding babble.
Watt started forward, eyes darting from the raging river to the light source hidden in the top of the tower.
It was brighter than fireflies but flickered like them, and the color sharper than anything he’d seen before.
The river was impassable here. The current raged, and to try and cross it on foot would be suicide.
How had Cornelius gotten to the island in the first place?
Upon meeting the water Watt cast his gaze down the shoreline, noting the area they were in.
An enormous basin trimmed with mountains that towered higher and higher as they stretched away from where he stood.
The waterfall was at the lowest point, and beneath the moonlight the river shone like a mercurial road as it stretched across cerrado and fields, its origin shrouded by distant jungle that crowded the far edge of the basin.
The only vegetation available immediately were scrawny trees and thorny bushes, more like the stuff he'd been tearing through.
Watt tore his gaze away from the unexplored.
There were no hostiles in the immediate area, which was all that mattered.
His hands flexed at his sides as he refocused on Cornelius who, with great difficulty, pushed himself upright.
He didn’t have his cane, and agony was written in every harsh line of his body.
He yelled to Watt, and his voice cracked as it crossed the distance.
“Go back! I …” The remainder of what he said was swallowed by the waterfall, but the defeated look on his face told Watt everything.
Watt shook his head. This would not be a promise he kept. He cupped his hands and called back, “No! I’ll find a way.”
Cornelius shuddered, and he wiped angrily at his eyes. He opened his mouth, but the following words were lost to the water.
Watt’s heart twisted with indecision, until finally he held up his hands again and shouted, “Wait for me.”
Cornelius’ face flooded with panic. Watt stared at him, trying to channel every bit of comfort he could. He didn’t turn away until Cornelius nodded, and even then he struggled to look away. It wasn’t like he could go anywhere, but Watt keenly felt he was about to disappear any moment.
Watt dropped their pack to the ground, and his head buzzed when he bent down to quickly check Maggie’s wound. The bandage had come off her leg, and his heart paused beating as he searched for what would surely be a dirt packed injury. After a moment, he realized that he was combing through fur.