My exhaustion grew as the heat of the sun mixed with the humidity of the jungle. Some time had passed, and I still hadn’t found a water source. I trudged on, but every step forward came with a sense of doubt.

  Everything in this jungle is beyond reason. What if the creatures of the jungle don’t need water? Or what if there isn’t a fresh water source and they survive off of the plants and rain? I had relied on my past reasoning to assume that an island of this size must have at least a pond or creek somewhere, but maybe that sort of thinking is idiotic.

  I guess I can’t blame myself too much. I just wonder if there’s any point in trying if things are going to continue like this. It’s like I’m playing a board game, and new rules keep popping up every time I think I’m about to win. It gets to a point where I’d rather not bother with playing at all.

  I exhaled deeply, looking a moment to consider my surroundings. It really is a fantastical place. I’ve been seeing new plants and animals that I’m sure could never exist on Earth. Colors that look more fitting on a canvas than in nature. Vibrant blues, pinks, oranges, and reds scoured the undergrowth. Alien shapes and absurd proportions were more common than not. Even the noise had picked up noticeably from when I was at the edges, reminiscent of the clamor of a city center more than anything.

  Well, at least the upper leaves were still green, which gives me some comfort. I couldn’t help but be grateful for even this minuscule normalness in a world that is so irrational. Looking deeper into the canopy, I noticed a strange, earthy yellow tone poking through. Probably just another strange plant.

  Not even that interesting, really. Even the colors were more muted than the ones on the ground. At least its color would fit a fruit on Earth just fine.

  I paused for a moment before doing a sharp double-take.

  “Haaah, I see.”

  It was just a passing thought, but looking at it again, it really might be a fruit.

  Picking up the pace, I made my way to the bottom of the tree it was attached to. Now that I’ve got a better view, it does seem to be a fruit. Sizeable too, and it seems that there are a couple of them connected together.

  I felt a good rush pass over me. Sure, they looked a bit exotic. I might not pick them up at my local grocery store, but right now, they look like the most enticing meal I’ve ever seen in my life.

  If I could get them, then my concerns about water and even food would subside for at least a few hours. The only difficult thing is that they sat quite high in the canopy. The trees had gotten so large that they were somewhere around 20 or 30 meters up, if I were to venture a guess.

  I took a quick walk around the base of the tree, stumbling over roots and foliage, engrossed in finding a way to the bounty. There was really no easy way about it. Something like shaking the tree to dislodge them would’ve worked on the outer trees, but the thought would barely cross your mind with these behemoths. You might need a car crash to even rustle the leaves of something this big.

  Stupid thoughts aside, I really was limited in what I could do here. I considered climbing for a second, but even in peak condition, it would’ve been difficult due to the sheer girth of the tree. The condition of my hand made such a venture even more dubious.

  So I was left with one last option. A real hail marry.

  I took another survey around the tree, making note of the surroundings. I was looking for an area that had a good view of the fruit and provided some decent footing. It wasn’t the easiest ask, but I did manage to find a decently flat surface. There was some foliage, but a good few minutes clearing it out, while doing my best to ignore the various critters within, was enough to resolve this.

  By the time I was done, I had a decent little dirt runway. I might’ve even considered sleeping here if it weren’t for all the bugs and whatnot. Looking up, I raised my hand outwards to estimate a flight path. I may have been a mechanical engineering major back home, but when it came to it, I could do little more than guess and hope.

  I spent some time thinking about it and settled on a general trajectory that I ought to aim for. All was good, except for a little issue: a bird’s nest that sat a few rungs below my target. I couldn’t really tell if there was anyone home, but the prospect of hitting one of those things was pretty terrifying.

  Hesitating for a moment, I decided to go through with it anyway. Given the speed of the birds around here, I’d probably die before I could react if I hit the nest, so what’s the sense in worrying about it?

  It seems I’ve grown a bit more reckless since coming to the island.

  I took a deep breath, standing horizontal to my target with my left leg planted forward as my right arm wound its way behind me. I’ve seen javelin throws during the Olympics in the past, but doing the movement now felt so awkward. Nonetheless, I had my setup, and with a quick jump forward, I launched towards the nest.

  The launch flung my body forward, causing me to trip on a nearby root on the edge of my launch pad, a miscalculation in my setup. Even as I fell and hit the ground, I did not lose sight of the stick as it made its way to the upper canopy, skimming by the nest narrowly, and hitting the pod of fruits head-on.

  I was overjoyed for a moment, but the stick merely bounced off the fruit, barely leaving it swaying. Disheartened, I turned my attention to the stick, which was bouncing down through the rungs of branches as it made its way back down. It moved chaotically, so it was only at the last moment that I realized where it was heading: right to the bird’s nest.

  The weight of the stick fell on the edge of the nest as it flew by, dislodging part of it. Only a small bit, but undoubtedly enough to rustle the feathers of any occupants. I could only watch as my stick and the bit of the nest fell together to the ground. It all happened too quickly to react, not that there was much to be done anyway.

  I was dumbfounded; a small victory immediately turned to despair as I glanced back towards the nest, revealing a bird standing by the broken edge.

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  The fear I felt in that moment was greater than any I had ever felt before. The bird was scanning the surrounding area for the culprit. If it found me, I would probably die in an instant.

  I didn’t move an inch, holding onto the hope that it didn’t notice me. Everything, from my ankle that I seemed to have twisted in my fall to the point of my gaze. I did not move an inch.

  As the bird scanned, it landed on me for a moment and paused. Was it staring at me? Maybe some bugs had been rustled in the commotion, and it was looking at those, or maybe it was looking at something else near me, and I couldn’t notice. These thoughts flooded my brain. Glimmers of hope that faded away just as quickly as they came. There was no doubt, the bird was staring right at me.

  I tensed my muscles, preparing to at least go down fighting, when the smallest of debris rained down next to the bird. Looking up, I could see that it was a piece of the fruit from earlier that had been broken off and had only fallen just now. The bird glanced upwards as well and immediately burst from its branch towards the fruit, striking it a moment later with force that I couldn’t have hoped to mimic with my javelin throw earlier.

  It was terrifying. I knew they were fast, but that strength was also beyond reason. Nonetheless, I couldn’t lie in fear for long. Seeing the opening, I crawled my way deeper into the undergrowth, hoping that the bird would lose sight of me. In my crawl, I could hear a persistent banging overhead. With some courage, I looked through the foliage and saw the bird make a run at the plant’s stem. When I saw it ram into the fruit earlier, I had assumed that it was just pointlessly whacking at it after getting startled, but now that I take a closer look, I can see that the bird’s reasoning is far more methodical.

  It seemed to be trying to break the fruit off at the stem. Its technique reminded me of a lumberjack. I wondered if it might be trying to control the fall of the fruit so that its nest is protected. If the bird just wants to get rid of the fruit, then I figured I might be able to get in on the spoils. Smart, fast, and strong. A very terrifying birdie indeed, but one that I might be able to make use of.

  Adding to the good fortune, it seems that I’ll escape the blame for breaking the nest if it remains focused on the fruit. This probably gives me a bit more leeway to move towards where the fruit might fall. It's risky, but I don’t really have the luxury of being picky.

  The banging continued for only a few more minutes, and in that time, I managed to crawl to a good position beneath the fruit. I could tell by now that my ankle was in bad shape. I could only hope that it was simply twisted. I don’t have the capacity to deal with a fracture or tear at a time like this.

  As I moved, I didn’t dare to look up for fear of the bird seeing me again and figuring things out, but I did listen in as the resounding strikes echoed above me. They happened rhythmically, indicative of the repeated bird’s run up and strike, but after some time, the rhythm stopped, and all that was left was the sound of a crash through the underbrush a few moments later. The fruit had fallen.

  It landed only a few meters away from me, but I wasn’t at liberty to immediately go after it with the bird still at large. So I waited. I didn’t want to wait too long, since I still had daylight to make use of. More than that, the bugs teeming in the underbrush had made their way onto my body. They didn’t seem to be the biting type, but the sensation of them walking on my skin was testing my resolve. A few of them also seemed to be taking an interest in my bloodied shirt. If they got to my open wound, then it would really be over, but I could only wait with unease. I suppose I should be happy that I haven’t encountered any snakes yet.

  I couldn’t check, but after some time, I was reasonably confident that the bird had retreated to its nest. Seizing the moment, I carefully picked myself up and scouted for the bird. Judging that the coast was clear, I crouched low and moved my way to the fruit, flinging off the bugs that had stuck to me. My ankle was in bad shape and was made worse by the uneven terrain. I only had to travel a short way, but I grimaced in pain through the stretch.

  Looking at the fruit from up close, I could see that the bounty was truly abundant. Its length was more than half my wingspan, and its weight was sizeable to match. It would be nice to eat it here and now, but I couldn’t risk alerting the bird.

  Earlier, I might’ve made a shot of picking the thing up, but something like that was a no-go with the state of my ankle. I settled on rolling it, not that I had many options to choose from. So, I found some decent grips and gingerly began the move. The shell was pretty uneven with lots of spikey features throughout. It made the rolling a bit harder, but it also let me rest from time to time without having to worry about it sliding downhill.

  It was an arduous process, and one that expended the last bits of strength I had in me, but after what seemed to be half an hour of work, I was in a good enough spot to start digging in. Well, in reality, I was only a few meters away, but I was behind a tree, so even if the bird did poke its head out, it wouldn’t be able to see me.

  As for breaking into the fruit, I was pretty lucky. While it visually looked to be a pod of individual fruits, it was more like a single large fruit with multiple compartments. I’d be able to access the entire fruit if I could open a single compartment.

  I might’ve been stuck on this issue for a while, but while flipping the fruit over, I noticed that there was already a suitable hole to work from. Looking at it, I guessed that it was the mark left by the bird when it initially struck the fruit. Not that it really mattered where it came from, all I had to care about was exploiting it.

  I found a nearby stick that fit the gap well enough and lodged it in. I pushed on the stick in a controlled and repeated motion, careful to slowly open the gap while not breaking it. After some time diligently working at it, I found that there was a good bit of give in the fruit. Seeing this, I put the stick to the side and squeezed the fruit between my legs, and using my last free appendage, my right arm, I tore it in two. The work was done, and I could finally enjoy my harvest.

  The interior of the fruit was a mix of fibrous sections, juicy flesh, and large seeds. I went after the flesh first. The taste wasn’t great, but it wasn’t bad either. Sort of like a mix of an overripe watermelon and a green apple, I guess. I’m not much of a connoisseur, but it didn’t seem like it would kill me.

  I also went after the fibrous sections, which were pretty tasteless themselves, but anything to fill my stomach was welcome. I picked out the seeds as I went. A more resourceful person might’ve been able to make some use of them, but I wasn’t about to crack a tooth playing around with them.

  While the fruit was filling my stomach, the biggest haul was the amount of water. The fibrous sections were somewhat dry, but the flesh almost melted in my mouth. Each bite came with a nourishing gulp of water. There also seemed to be a lot of water lodged in various crevices of the fruit as well. Earlier, I had propped it so the opening faced vertically, which meant that most of this water pooled towards the bottom instead of leaking out. I should have a decent pool of drinking water at the bottom once I make it there.

  I ate frantically for at least half an hour, maybe longer. It was a lot to get through, whether it be the eating itself or digging around to get the good chunks. At the end of it all, I washed it down with the pooled water at the bottom and slumped down on a tree to digest it all.

  While the stick hitting the bird’s nest might have been a shred of misfortune, I truly was lucky. Just looking at the stem of the fruit now, and I can tell that no amount of half-assed javelin throwing would have dislodged it. It’s frustrating to think about, but I’m really hopeless here.

  There’s no lesson to be learned. No strategies to be developed from what I saw. It was just an assemblage of chaos that worked out for me. Normally, when someone comes to that sort of realization, they might try to get control of their situation. At least, that’s what I might have done in the past. But I think I’m fine with it right now.

  I’ll just need to be lucky to survive. No sense in giving it any deeper thought. All of these other creatures have their strength, speed, and size. They should, by all means, be able to kill or outcompete me, and if they do, then so be it. But if there is a path in the darkness, then I will just have to trust that I’m lucky enough to find it.