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墨書 Inktalez
As I turned my head, I realized that Jack's words were directed at two Vietnamese men, and his expression was close to madness. The two Vietnamese quickly grabbed long poles from the tree and thrust them into the water with force. It was then that I noticed a bundle of long bamboo poles along the trunk of the tree, which was quite stable despite the many branches protruding from it.
It seemed as if they had undergone countless training sessions; at Jack's brief command, the two Vietnamese acted swiftly and powerfully. Although I didn't know what was happening, their tense emotions affected me. Without hesitation, I pulled out a bamboo pole and plunged it into the water.
At this moment, any effort was welcome; Jack's anxious shouts indicated that we were in serious trouble.
The bamboo pole reached its limit without touching the bottom; the water was too deep for us to change our course. I helplessly looked up at Jack, who stood at the front of the wooden structure without turning back, still shouting:
"To the left, damn it, a little more to the left."
No one responded to him, and the massive tree-like vessel did not shift an inch. Realizing this, Jack turned around in anger but found that no one was paying attention to him; we were all focused on what lay ahead, each of us displaying expressions of despair, including myself.
Not just me; the two Vietnamese also shone their flashlights forward, eager to understand what was happening. The beams from four One-Eyed Beast Flashlights illuminated the area ahead as bright as day, also casting light on Jack's furious face directed toward us. However, none of us looked at him. There were far more captivating sights before us that held greater intimidation than Jack's angry expression.
Ahead of us was a mountain pass, approximately five or six meters wide, with turbulent waters flowing into it. This mountain pass resembled a river channel—straight and deep. I immediately recalled catching a glimpse of a dark line across from me; it seemed to be the drainage channel located within Dam Hill.
The Towering Tree beneath us was rushing towards the Drainage Channel. However, our direction was off; we were clearly veering away from the waterway and heading towards the Dam Hill on the right side of the Drainage Channel.
At this moment, the Drainage Channel and Dam Hill were almost within reach. The surging waters crashed against Dam Hill, sending waves soaring over ten meters high. The sound was no longer just a vibration against our eardrums; even my Heart felt as if it was being shaken uncontrollably. The relentless water continued to batter against the hill, creating a white ribbon of waves, while the Drainage Channel remained dark.
We were now close enough that the falling waves could slap against our faces. As I had feared, we would be smashed against Dam Hill. Although this way of dying was spectacular and I had mentally prepared for death, I was unwilling to accept it. As long as there was a glimmer of hope, I would fight for it. The question was, did we have a chance?
The tree that Jack and the others had found was stable in the water; its dense branches created significant resistance, making it difficult to change its course. At the same time, the force of the current pushing it forward was immense. I noticed that as it sped towards the Dam, its direction subtly shifted towards the Drainage Channel. There was still hope.
I didn't have time to explain this to them; the deafening roar of water left no room for such futile efforts. Instead, I could demonstrate through action. A long Bamboo Pole submerged in the water caught my attention. I quickly pulled it out from the Pavement and lifted it horizontally.
It was heavier than I had anticipated, nearly causing me to topple into the water. The bamboo was as thick as my arm and over ten meters long, saturated with moisture; balancing it horizontally was truly challenging. Especially since my right arm felt weak, Severe Pain almost made me drop it.
I leaned one end of the bamboo against a tree branch for support, gritted my teeth, and lifted it again as I charged forward. My target was the Dam on the right; if we could just alter our direction slightly, we could enter that Drainage Channel. It would be worth any risk taken for that chance.
My actions immediately alerted the others. Although the chances of success were slim and extremely dangerous, it was better than waiting to die.
Two Vietnamese followed me as I charged toward the front of the wooden structure, and I vaguely heard their shouts. As I ran past Jack, I caught a glimpse of his astonished expression. Then the bamboo pressed against the dam.
I saw four more bamboo poles reach out from behind me, joining this effort one after another. In that moment, my confidence soared; I felt we had already succeeded.
There is a saying about a mantis trying to stop a chariot. If I had not fully understood this saying before, at the moment the bamboo held against the dam, my comprehension became clear. I flew out like a volleyball, launching from the front of the wood to the back, then crashing onto a mat.
A sweetness surged in my throat, and it felt as if something was blocking my chest. I coughed up blood, as if expelling whatever was lodged there, and only then did I feel some relief and realize I could breathe again. At the same time, I felt warmth at the back of my neck; when I reached back to touch it, it was red—blood. Turning around, I saw that Lao person leaning against a tree branch, his chin and chest covered in blood; he had already passed out.
It seemed he had served as my cushion here, not only knocked unconscious but also coughing up blood. I couldn't tell if it was his misfortune or my luck. My mind hazy, I stared at him for a moment before remembering to check for his pulse; thankfully, he was still breathing.
However, all I could do was check his breath; there was nothing else I could manage. Though my arms weren’t broken, several ligaments were surely torn. Even lifting my hand to check on Lao's breathing was difficult. After trying hard, all that remained was to leave it to fate.
From the number of bamboo poles pushing against the dam, it seemed that only this Lao person hadn’t participated in our self-rescue effort. Yet I bore no resentment toward him; it was already surprising that four people had reacted so quickly in such a short time.
However, it appeared that I had underestimated the power of nature. I felt that my push against the dam hadn’t made much difference, so naturally, I held no hope for anyone else's efforts. I even felt too weary to look for a flashlight to assess our self-rescue's effectiveness; instead, I waited for that intense and tragic moment to arrive.
Although I felt more comfortable leaning against the Lao People, he wouldn’t have any objections. A person who had fainted wouldn’t feel pain anyway. However, he had inadvertently saved me once, and here I was, putting him in a life-and-death situation.
Out of respect for the deceased, I still leaned against the tree branch beside him. Honestly, at that moment, neither he nor I felt like living beings.
A faint light flickered before me, emitted by the One-Eyed Beast Flashlight. The flashlight hung from my waist, its strap somehow wrapped around me. It was within my reach, casting a dim glow in front of me. My One-Eyed Beast Flashlight had been on high brightness, but it seemed to be running low on power now, the light weak.
In the dim light of the flashlight, I saw someone lying not far ahead—perhaps someone hanging from a branch. The light was too dim to make out who it was, and I didn’t want to know. I noticed his intestines hanging from one side of his body. My gaze and mind felt equally numb.
(To Be Continued...)
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