Jungle, jungle, jungle. no matter where he look.he just saw enormous tropical trees, the vegetation was thick and difficulted the progress but it was the only place where you could easily hide a small army.
The most important river in the area, the Amazonas was a major tourist attraction, one of the two longest rivers always draws attention.
Fausto could not afford a guided tour of Amazona as much as he wanted to know was that the 6 most important cities were located near the principal branchs of the river.
Therefore he should move away from the cities to find the bases. it sounded simple but its implementation was difficult, he was only guided by the small GPS he carried in one of the pocket. the coordenates of the possible areas where the bases could be were recorded in it.

The small mutant was standing in a small open spot of the jungle, the coordinates indicated that there was a possible base but there was no sign of it. or the informants had wrong information or they had moved the base for any reason.
the mission was progressing slowly but decided to fail, he had pass the last 3 days in the jungle and had not achieved anything. this area was completely clean.
more than once he asked himself why Slate have chosen him for a mission of this importance. he never found the indicated answer.

He had left behind the city of Leticia and without asking or being noticed, no one could have guaranteed that a stranger mutant had passed through there. the language will not betray him ,he spoke Spanish perfect, and to hide in urban areas was his specialty.
The problem started when he enter in the jungle, their ears alert him continuously about sounds from the abundant wildlife.
Every time he hear one of these noise he woke up expecting the worst, but never were the guerrilleros, the second day he get used to animals presence but not yet used to the absence of human presence.

The abstinence of human presence was reflected in his actions , the fifth day of being alone in the forest with no one to talk he did not know if he was running away stealthly or hunting furtively. Was him the hunter or the prey? he not known that for a couple of days, but he continue checking the GPS and moving systematically tracking areas.
Until the day he was attacked. Spears rushed on him with the unique aim of taste his blood. his skin was pierced as if it was paper.
¨When I rule the world my first action to improve it will be to eliminate all the mosquitoes ¨ his voice sounded strange to him , several days without talking to anyone. he was expecting to hear something more like a growl coming from that mouth capable of wiping out everything in its path but answered his usual voice. he slapped strongly to kill another mosquito that was biting his arm.

The rest of that day was spent walking in the direction of the second area. another extensive area of forest where there should be a hidden base somewhere.
as he had done before the area was divided into squares to improve the search. when the night fall he seek a shelter among the bushes, it was not very comfortable but he could see without being seen. he did not sleep well, he did not do it well since the mission began. he barely slept enough to maintain the strength and mental sanity .
it was not until the next day that he notice a detail that he had not seen beneath the shadows at night. When he wake up and began looking for something to eat,he could eat anything but anyway he was a bit selective.
In one part of the undergrowth near where he had slept was a cut probably made with a machete to break through it . a hole in the bush, an improvised way, if he follow it he still could find a base.

The sun was beating on his hat as Bacchus walked into yet another patch of dense jungle with his sizes slightly larger than his normal size Bacchus sniffed the air hoping to pick something out that was abnormal. Seeing didn’t help much the jungle where they were currently in had thick bushes everywhere, “Where are we supposed to meet him?” Bacchus asked Roland as Bacchus with his thick skin walked through the brush without second thought, regardless if there were those giant spiders. His favorite of the insects were the misquotes no matter ho many times they tried to attach on to his skin they couldn’t seeing as the skin was so thick.

It had been two days since he had been sent with Roland to meet up with the ‘Third Member’ he didn’t know who this bloke was but if Bacchus was getting paid for it he would meet protect and do what he was ordered to do. The only thing that mattered that he was compensated for doing the job. If they didn’t pay he could just as easily smash and kill out of protest till he got bored then would head back to America. But seeing as Slate had already paid for one mission, and even though it was about the same amount he gets from most small banks he figured he’d keep working for them. Maybe Just maybe he’ll make a big payout.

Pulling out his buck knife and throwing it into a bush that had been moving seconds before Bacchus reached his hand back there and pulled a large Deer out, “Hope your hungry…” Bacchus said as his stomach let out a large growl on the account of him having nothing to eat for the last two days. "Can you believe that was just a guess?" Bacchus asked with a small laugh.

Clean clothes, food and some treatment had made Roland feel like a million bucks. Okay, maybe more like twelve. Still, it was a positive. Here he was, back in the jungle. Business seemed to be booming for the company here and his accounts were increasing. He was glad to be out of contact with the little slate faced tyrant, only to find that now he and Bacchus were to meet the third member of the team, a younger boy that he had not met yet.

The giant was similar to traveling with a tank. Sure, it could protect you and thrash any predators from here to next Thursday. However, as this was a scouting mission, he seemed to be overkill. His large feet stomped through the trails and he broke sticks, or maybe they were trees, all over the place. For this reason, Roland gave him a wide berth. At least if there was gun play he would be able to triangulate the source judging from the ricochets off of the massive man.

“Where are we supposed to meet him?” Bacchus asked him. " I haven't half a clue. I've never even seen this person. I assumed you had." The lack of intel was troubling, but the check generally cashed the same. Using his binoculars, he tracked the foliage for signs of movement. Other than the movement of animals, nothing. He imagined that this base must be underground, similar to the ones in Vietnam.A rustle nearby made him drop the binoculars and crouch.

The rustle was soon impaled by Bacchus' oversized knife. Excellent reflexes for something so large. When he saw the bloody carcass of a deer being hoisted from the foliage, a look of distaste passed his features. He had eaten venison himself many times, but the lack of logic in the man's actions boggled the mind."What are you going to do, eat it raw? I don't know if you are aware, Bacchus, but I believe that stealth is part of this mission. Skinning and gutting an animal in a jungle will attract many predators and make too much noise. Not to mention the air sign of a fire and the smell wafting to our targets. " Roland wondered if the man before him was capable of training." It was an excellent throw, though." He grinned slightly. No reason not to make friends with a tank.

The disappointment appeared on his face, after walked over 2 more hours and find that no base was there where it should be. The same thing again, the bases seemed to be invisible. he was never going to accomplish the mission, he was going to run off of time or even worse he would be killed before he could find and left the bases. because at that moment he was hunter and prey at the same time . the instincts told him about some danger , his animal part knew the danger was near but his senses did not reported any significant change in the environment.
he just felt this presence behind him , but it does not want to attack him , it just wanted to stare at him but this cause insecurity, fear on him ... All her fears began to whisper in his ear. fear to fail the mission, the fear of not being able to see their friends again , fear of not being able to return safe for katrina, the fear of not being able to return the precious fender of Takumi and not even able to give an explanation to him .
But it was not time to be afraid, he could die but if he success the mission in the process he can help to build a better world for all. for his friends, for Katrina, for the band, humans and mutants for equal.

the claws of a terrible creature
were pulling out the feathers of an angel in the sky
i saw him fall from there
into the Wasteland of mysteries

One step further and his perspective of the world changed totally , two walls of earth raised up at his sides and other two raised in his back and front at the same time . the inertia of the movement made him kneels down and immediately he rolled to one side for the pain. his left leg was wound and he could not move much . it hurt a lot , as much as he tried to move it cause more pain. the boy couldn't reach the top of the hole , he couldn't stand up .
Dragging with the help of his arms and his healthy leg he put his back on one of walls of the prison of earth.the nearest wall cuz the pain made difficult to breath . the child support his back to the wall with his legs extended toward the center of the cube. in that position the pain was less.
the tears walked on his face , the tears weren't for the pain of the wound , it was just a physical wound that could easily cured. Slate could have helped ... where was him ? the thing that made him cry was the statement that sounded in his head. ¨you failed the mission, you will die in this hole.you 'll never be able to see your friends again¨

¨ What are you doing in that hole? Surely you fell into the trap while you are looking for us ... yes , you were looking for us . unfortunately for you , we find you before you do. He lift up his head without move , it was not a long time since he had fallen, only just a few minutes. The soldier looked in both directions, he reacted a little nervous to any sound from the jungle that surrounded them, but his face showed no concern or fear,he was drowned in the happy for having found the child in that situation so disadvantageous for him.
¨It must be sure that, what other things you could do in this place?. do not say you are missed, and that you can not find your parents, i listen that excuse a thousand times around here. You'd be surprised to know how many children try to be heroes and find our bases. most like you ending in one of our traps. ¨
The soldier changed his sight away from him a few seconds, he whistled a few times to call his comrades and they arrived a few minutes later ,they helped him and another soldier to down to the hole , neither them could reach the top alone, it was very deep hole .

Fausto tried to go away from them but he had no place to flee, his back pressed against the wall of earth announced the end of his flee . he did not dare to stand up cause the pain was very strong to do it . under these conditions he would not be able to bite them ,at least not in a vital area. and if he get to bite one the rest of them would kill him . he had no choice than to cross his fingers and see what happens.
A sharp pain in the head made him fell, his head hit the ground but he did not felt the impact, the first hit had been strong enough. sounds were elongated and his vision faded. the one that accompanied the paranoic soldier had been hit him in the head with the rifle. the wound was not deep but the impact had been enough to wrest his concience.

¨ Keep them alive, keep alive until they speak. as if it were easy to keep them alive when they ¨interrogated ¨ them . What the hell they think I can do with this medical stuff that they gave me .this misery barely cover the basic things needed ...
the man who grumbled took his hand by the wrist to check for his pulse . his fingers were frozen and his skin was as pale as a dead or vampires of these old films. the child who just wake look scared the doctor who took care of him ¨You are all right boy, fortunately the blow in the head was not serious . Your leg was worse than your head, you got a hairline fracture . i set the bone, stick it to a splint and place cloth wrapped tightly around it ... you will be able to walk but it will hurt a lot. ¨
¨thanks ¨ the kid responded almost in a whisper. he had no desire to speak, he carried one hand to his head where he had been hit, he had a strong bandaging tightly holding his head .
"what makes a kid like you be in a place like this? the doctor asked kindly with the hope that the child will respond, but the answer that he gave was not the one expecting ¨ I can't tell you ¨
The doctor sighed exhausted, his work was his life, there was nothing more important to save lives, but to work to heal allies and the prisoners for the Guerrilla was not what he had in mind when he left the United States to provide their expertise in medicine at the most problematic areas of Central America.

Another soldier came to the tent and called the doctor, Fausto who was sat on the bed get down quickly and simulate to sleep. ¨ Hey Zombie we need some help with a prisoner , our torturer was a little more tough than usual . the prisoner is losing a lot of blood.¨ the doctor sighed again. ¨ always is the same thing ¨ then he left the tent together with the soldier.
It seemed to be a kind of camp, he was exactly in a huge tent with several beds . some of the people there were strongly tied to the bed, perhaps these were people who were under intensive ¨interrogation ¨ , the boy guessed that others there were members of the same faction that had been injured in any confrontation.
Fausto was alone . there was not much to do, although the doctor had told him that he could walk , he did not wanted to try it . each time he moved a little his leg a tremendous pain invaded his flesh and bone . What could be doing the other? Does anyone would know that he was there? perhaps they could find the marks left by the soldiers when they charge him to the base.

Nodding and frowning slightly Bacchus, “You’d assume wrong all boss said was meet up with our third member you me and him from their would scout the area, while I, come along as the bullet catcher because I myself am not much the type to sneak around…” as he said this his foot crunched on another bug of some kind and approached the deer and pulled his knife from the body. With one hand he picked up the deer while he wiped the bloodied knife on his shirt, “Another reason I hate stealth missions….” Bacchus said as he sighed and hoisted the deer on his shoulder and walked back towards the path.

“Maybe I am being overly optimistic but if we find some where the canopy is thick enough to hide the smoke I think we could be fine. I don’t think we have to worry that much about predators anyways, they usually go for the weaker kill and…” grinning Bacchus grew a few inches and puffed out his muscles till the clothes around him felt tight, “since I am here I don't think they want t try their luck…” Putting his now clean knife back in the sheath Bacchus started to walk down the trail he and Roland decided to take.

Letting out a loud sigh Bacchus shrugged and took out his tin of vodka and as his body size shrunk an inch, while the flask along with its contents grew. Take a sip of the drink Bacchus let out another sigh and said, “Call me stubborn, but we don’t know how long we are going to be out here, not only that but we know nothing more than we have to scout, I wasn’t told what to scout so for all I know we succeeded in the mission.”

Shrugging and offering Roland the enlarged flask as he shrugged his shoulder turning the deer on his shoulder in the process, “Sides we don’t know when is the next chance some food will appear…” He paused and looked at the trail, “Granted it isn’t smart for a campfire but rule of thumb of mine…” clearing his throat, “Eat when you can, for you never know when it’s the last meal for a long time…” Looking back to Roland Bacchus asked, “Smart man like you would probably know all about that… I am sure you can tell me what was the meal you had before you were held up down here, right?”

It was unfortunate that the colossus had not seen the agent they were meeting. It did not surprise Roland much, considering the pimply master's lack of organization. His eyes traveled between the big guy , to acknowledge him and also to ensure he didn't knock a tree or something in Roland's direction. After a life of working with humans and appearing as the superior, this all mutant business was both handy and sometimes unsettling. His feet trod upon the jungle floor.

Things that could have been trails were either animals or men. The problem was, there were no footprints. There wasn't enough breakage. These guys were good. Hard soldiers who lived, slept, ate and existed in the jungle. Roland imagined that they were akin to animals at this point. They could be very well training rifles upon his forehead. It wasn't something to pay mind to. If he worried over every little threat to his life, he would be a homebody.

His inner monologue was interrupted as he heard a shocking bit of news from the titanic tough guy. He stopped in his tracks, slowly turning to face him. "What do you mean you don't know what we are scouting? What exactly did you and Slate talk about in the jeep? Sports? I'm sorry, Bacchus, but really. Okay. we are seeking out AUC camps in the area. We are to record their coordinates and gauge their strength. By looking. It is reconnaissance. So the stealth bit is more of a guideline, considering that should they see us, they will more than likely vanish without a trace, furthering the mission and making us look like amateurs." He slowly turned again and began walking.

Next it was talk of food. Roland rolled his eyes as he walked., his eyes still scanning for tracks." If you would like to make camp at some point near dark, we can surely do so. I assumed we would be done by sunset." He looked back to acknowledge him again. " With all of your talk of food and drink, you surely epitomize the god for which you are naaaaaaa---!!!Ooof!" Roland suddenly found himself at the bottom of a rather large hole. Once a preliminary check of himself confirmed no injuries, he rose slowly, looking up at the lip of the hole. Good thing there weren't punji spikes.

The titan would be coming any moment.Once his big head loomed over the edge, Roland quickly did his best to stop him." Wait!I'm fine. Don't come closer. There might be tracks and I don't want you stepping on them." The idea occurred to him as he had been on his hands and knees in the pit. He had felt no pain when he fell and yet there seemed to be a few drops of blood mixed in against the green of the foliage in the pit. It wasn't their blood, so whose was it? Whether it was the mystery agent or someone else, it surely provided a landmark to seek out the guerrillas.

Nobody watched him so he decided to leave and when he did he undertood why nobody was keeping an eye on him or the prisoners, the perimeter of the base was surrounded by a not very tough fence but really very well guarded fence. There were few parts where the fence does not marked the territory of the base . these areas without wired surely where the entrances to the base,it had two soldiers on guard constantly. between the checkpoints of the doors a couple of soldiers walked watchful of any unusual sound. But they were few soldiers to watch all at once letting a small space and enough time to go through the wire. All the guards were armed, one assault rifle, some grenades, and all were carrying survival knives . In total he could count 20 soldiers armed and ready to shoot, not counting those in the tent for medical care.

Fausto searched in vain for the GPS . he must record the exact coordinates of the base, if they had found it he would be dead because he was looking locations of AUC bases . what happened with the device? the answer came quickly to his mind, the doctor find it before the others did and hide it to make the others not realize Fausto was a spy.

Among the soldiers guarding the place were a couple of kids at his age or a little bigger than him , teenagers who had nothing to do in a place as hostile as this, but they where there adding their forces to the cause. they dont carried with Heavy assault rifles, but each child had a knife and a pistol. they do not seem to care that they were wasting their youth in a place like this, for them the AUC was doing the right thing, fighting for an ideal that worth all the sacrifices they made.

Most of the soldiers looked the other way when he walked near them around simulating to be going without paying attention, the soldiers looked at another side as if he had a highly contagious disease and they 0did not want to even look for fear of get infected. Maybe they just felt rejection by the way his face so young showed a sharp pain, which transformed his face with every step. It was like the doctor had said, he could walk but it would hurt a lot . the muscle brink against the piece of bone fragmented making him felt that it was tearing the flesh. however, the fracture was not significant nor was the wound on his leg.

What most worries him at that time was how to get out of there without dying in the attempt, but before fleeing he should have to find the GPS . if his suspicions were true the GPS was safe for the moment. the child could not run, he should find another way out of there, however `running away from a military base from were all the soldiers assumed that they must shoot any person trying to go away was not a great idea. mainly because each of the soldiers were prepared for that for real , to run with their weapons ready to attack any intruder or runner . nobody seemed to care that he was walking along the base, if he got somewhere where he should not be they would let him know immediately ... Now where were the weapons? Fausto systematically made a basic map in his mind. tents that were near the south entrance was one that corresponded to the nurse and three others who were the bedrooms, large tents which not much more than bags with belongings of the soldiers and sleeping bags rolled on the floor . near the west entrance were two tents, a makeshift kitchen was one and the other was empty. in the north there was nothing interesting like that to the east. the only tent that was not checked yet was almost in the center of the base and was easily to see by any guard post. the medium tent was guarded for 5 soldiers, one on each side and the fifth on the inside. there should be the weapons. it would not help to play the innocent not much , nor to act like silly. brute force was not an option with so many guns around.

Blinking and shifting his eyes slightly Bacchus explained why he didn’t exactly hear what Slate the boss had been saying on the car ride back to the base. Playing dumb was something Bacchus excelled in; being able to grow didn’t make it two hard to fool people either. People were more inclined to believe you were stupid if you could grow and shrink your body size. Sure Bacchus was slow physically but mentally he was as sharp as anyone else. “Make your enemies think you have a weakness and then use that weakness to your advantage…” that was a saying that his childhood friend said on a regular basis whenever they used to play football as kids.

“Well I started listening but then as Slate continued to talk, his voice took the tone and sound of the parents on all those Charlie Brown episodes, you know the ones… the ‘Whhaaa… Whaa Whaaaa’…” Bacchus shrugged and continued, “I also had a bit to drink so that might have had something to do with it as well.” Grinning as he took a sip from his flask Bacchus continued, “Now that you mentioned it I do recall the need to keep the targets to vanishing but I think that's all I heard… at least I know now the name of the blokes we are looking for…”

Bacchus let Roland take the lead as he put his flask back in his waistline as he continued to hold the large deer over his shoulder. Not minding Roland’s crack at his name Bacchus blinked as Roland was there and then he wasn’t. Tossing the deer to the ground reluctantly Bacchus looked down on his partner with a slightly giddy look, “Looks like we have a lead…” said Bacchus not moving forward less he would fall into the hole as well, “Well anything?” Bacchus asked curiously as he shifted his eye and relied on his enhanced senses to detect to see of anything or anyone was going to try and uses the Rollie in the hole as a opening for an attack.

Roland stood and brushed himself off. The giant queried on the presence of leads. There were surely some to assess since he had heeded the warning. Roland knelt and looked at the drops of blood, tenderly moving fronds and brush to locate their direction. "It seems someone else fell in this hole as well. They were injured. I believe they were injured in the pit as there doesn't seem to be any blood where we came from." He jumped and pulled himself up to the unblemished side of the pit from whence they came.

Kneeling down to a closer view of the ground, Roland spied another brown spot, blood mixed with dirt. Rising, he pointed to the small spot which was accompanied by some drag marks and other footprints." Someone was clearly pulled from the hole. The person who did the pulling wore boots, as you can see from these impressions. Judging from the breakage ahead, I think we may very well be on the right track." Spacing and pacing his steps, he began to move in the direction of the earlier movement.

After a few feet, he turned his head to his partner. "I suspect you might find normal size beneficial for a bit. And drop that deer already. We can come back for it. We need to be wary of other presences now and avoid alerting others to ours." Roland decided to keep any comments about the man's actions to himself. All that would do now is decrease morale. A quiet, untrained person was much more valuable than an argumentative accomplice. Once that was settled, the two began to slowly move through the jungle, following the trail. Hopefully, the third agent would be found soon and the jungle and the little tyrant could become distant memory.

Fausto searched the tents, but was unable to find any communication tent with they should comunicate with the rest of the bases. they surely should have a radio station nearby. but apparently not within the base, perhaps in a place more apropiate to transmit radio signals , in a place a little higher. it was not in sight so it should be outside the base. he could not leave so disappointed he shrugged and started to walk back to the nursery.

When he was entering the nursery he felt a cold and heavy hand on his shoulder. Some of the soldiers had suspected it, he would kill him without asking anything more. the owner of the hand that rested on his shoulder talked again, but he did with a very different tone he had used the first time they met , he was the doctor. ¨ i know who you are ¨ the last words of the man still rumbled in the child's head until the he talked again ¨you are a spy but ... ¨ the way he said ¨but¨ and stretched it as if were chewing gum made Fausto doubt about his intentions, ¨...they would kill you or torture in a manner so cruel that you would have to speak what you were doing here ¨ ¨ am i going to reveal the plan under pressure?¨ ¨ if they find me doing this they would kill me, and if they find you with a GPS with the locations of the bases they would going to do something far worse than kill you. the locations you had were not bad but some were moved, all were generally quite good. i changed the coordinates ,now it show the exact location of each base. ¨ The doctor smiled, a smile that was a little crooked, but tried to show appreciation for the child and give hope to fulfill the mission. Its flesh half dead was not perfect for this task but he managed to make his smile to seems convincing. ¨ How many would have grown my son in these 8 months? ¨ the doctor asked loudly without wanting a answer . he sighed and waited for the child to do the next move .
¨Thank you¨ was the only thing he could said still trying to understand everything that he had said, it was done. he just had to check the size of each base, but at least he already had the real locations. How could leave without problems?

Looking around Bacchus shrugged slightly and added to Roland’s “clue”, “Just because it’s blood doesn’t mean it is the kind we want to follow…” everything bled just because there was blood didn’t mean that the trail was someone they wanted to follow. This was a “Scouting” mission after all so why were they going to follow the trail, to Bacchus it seemed somewhat counter productive. Why should they worry about a lead to the third member of the team? It wasn’t exactly in the job description of “Scouting” but then again most of the things Bacchus did were never in the job description. He was a “Above and Beyond” employee anyways.

As Roland climbed from the pit and sought out the trail the way a hound dog picks up on the scent of a fallen duck or an injured buck. Bacchus eyes narrowed on the blood that Roland was observing and then his eyes narrowed to the trail that the unknown person made. Broken branches and small indents in the ground could be seen with Bacchus’s vision but from what he could tell the scent was to hard to distinguish as of now. “This probably happened a cople hours ago…” he paused walking closer to Roland and the blood and continued, “Other wise I’d be able to pick up a more defined scent but they smell to much like the surrounding as of now….”

The next order from Roland struck Bacchus as odd but figured that Roland must have been focused on the blood and the trail, “Lead the way and consider the Deer gone and me at normal height.” Granted normal height for Bacchus was roughly seven feet but he didn't feel like telling Roland more then he needed to know.

Normally Bacchus’s mood would have been more than delightful for the mission but it was a stealth mission and he did hate those, ‘As long as I am getting paid…’ thought Bacchus as played follow the leader with Roland. His eyes ears and nose at the peak of their performance ready to pick out anything that might cause them harm.

Roland was surprised to hear Bacchus' words of wisdom in regard to hunting. He suspected that the enlarged senses led the giant to such conclusions. He wasn't useless after all. Also, it seemed his demeanor had completely changed. Perhaps the dumb musclehead was a front. It worked beautifully, were that the case.“This probably happened a couple hours ago… Otherwise I’d be able to pick up a more defined scent but they smell too much like the surrounding as of now….” Roland had to agree." I'll trust you on that. It still seems to be the only lead we have."

“Lead the way and consider the Deer gone and me at normal height.” All excellent changes, especially in the attitude. Perhaps Roland had rushed to judgment. He had only seen a bit of work from the man. Anyone could change their posture at anytime, for better or worse. His steps continued, though he kept his eyes in front of him, to ensure no more pratfalls into pitfalls. Jungles were a relatively new battleground for him, since he had no proper military training. It was all just hodgepodge picked up from others and experience over the years. he could definitely do without the bugs.The heat. The humidity. Urban settings would be appreciated once he returned to the States.

He suspected Bacchus was unhappy with the stealth end, as it seemed to ooze from his words. Roland froze in his stride.Whispering, he delivered good news to his companion."I suspect you will have fun in the near future." His eyes traveled down his own body, following the thin wire which was hung on his bootlaces. He traveled its course, locating the well camouflaged claymore mine, faced toward him as they were commonly tagged. His eyes scanned the bushes around him. Adrenaline made his senses keen, honing in on the slight movement of a brown and green hat, which would only have been spotted due to a lively fern in the background. He was thankful his mutation was instant.

The relative silence of the jungle quickly became full of chaos. The mine and its wire soon appeared above the hat, instantly exploding as the connection was freed. He quickly dropped to the ground and found fairly suitable cover behind a rotting log. The spaces beneath the log saw the smoke rolling. His ears caught the moans of what must have been the first hat's companion. The original target probably had no head to wear a hat on. Looking over to Bacchus, he simply said, " Your show."

Fausto walked around holding the GPS in his pocket . Why the medic helped him was a question that ran in his head all the way back to the tent .
His leg was hurting a lot so he did not have another option more than go and rest a bit in the infirmary's bed.