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墨書 Inktalez
On this side of the riverbank, there was no intimidating steep embankment, and not far from the riverbank, there was, as expected, a wood chip dam. In the distance, the stalactite formations looked quite different from those on the opposite side.
The stalactites here were severely damaged.
As everyone knows, stalactites grow downwards, and after reaching a certain length, they have a high chance of breaking under their own weight. When a fallen stalactite crashes down onto an upward-growing stalactite or column, it causes destruction to the stalactites and columns below, leaving this side of the riverbank in disarray. Although there were also fallen stalactites on the other side, their numbers were few; instead, the stalactites hanging within reach were always visible. I had even been struck on the head by one before.
It seemed that not only did I have to guard against attacks from giant bats, but I also had to be wary of falling stalactites.
For this reason, I had to make some adjustments to my plan. My original plan was to fire my AK-47 as soon as I reached the shore to fend off the first wave of bat attacks. The power and loud noise of my AK-47 should have a greater deterrent effect on the bats.
Then it would be Jack's turn; I needed him to provide me with sustained cover. He had two spare magazines, and I had to ignite my fire before he finished firing those two magazines. Of course, he also needed to change magazines quickly.
Seeing the current situation, I began to worry that the powerful firepower of the AK-47 might trigger falling stalactites above us. If the bullets from my AK-47 directly hit these fragile stalactites, it would likely cause them to fall. If I were killed by a stalactite I shot down myself, would that be considered suicide or murder?
The riverbank was right in front of me, so I hurriedly conveyed my thoughts to Jack, telling him that covering me would be entirely up to him. Jack nodded numbly and stuffed both spare magazines into his mouth.
I looked at him with some concern. I couldn't believe how he managed to do that; his tongue was nearly filling his entire mouth.
Jack did not turn on the One-Eyed Beast Flashlight; our main source of light relied on the flashlight in my mouth. The moment my feet touched the ground, Jack and I dashed toward the Wood Chip Dam.
As I stood up, I felt a loud noise erupt above me, accompanied by a distinct rush of wind. A swarm of Giant Bats came barreling towards us. At that moment, Jack's gun fired.
Amidst the gunfire, I felt hot blood splatter across my face and neck, making my already chilled body feel as if it were being burned. That strange yet familiar scent of blood surged into my brain.
Everything was intensely stimulating my nerves. I hunched slightly and sprinted towards the Wood Chip Dam. The ground near the shore was clear of any fallen stalactites, allowing me to dash at full speed. However, I knew I wouldn't be fast; my push-off felt weak, while the foot that landed was stiff and lacking in elasticity.
Fortunately, the Wood Chip Dam was close to the riverbank, and I could hear Jack's gunfire continuing without interruption. It seemed as though his magazine had infinite bullets; I hadn't noticed him change it.
I threw myself onto the Wood Chip Dam. My first aid kit contained only a bottle of Medical Alcohol, originally intended for disinfecting Jack's wounds, but given the urgency of the situation, I had no choice but to use it. I had no other flammable materials.
The alcohol splashed onto the wood chips and was instantly absorbed. With a flick of my lighter, I ignited the Wood Chip Dam. The high purity of the Medical Alcohol created flames that shot up a meter high, singeing my hair and making it crackle.
I rolled away from the flames. Looking back, I saw Jack not far from the riverbank. He knelt on one knee, his magazine empty, yet his Micro Submachine Gun continued to spit fire. That must have been his last magazine.
Desperation surged within me as I shouted and scrambled towards him. Once that magazine was spent, if he couldn't reach the fire pile in time, he would be faced with a horde of devilish bats closing in on him.
However, the fire startled the bats, and at the moment the flames ignited, the swarm of bats suddenly soared higher. Seizing the opportunity, I dragged Jack to the Wood Chip Dam.
I felt no joy in surviving this ordeal. Jack's condition left me feeling anything but optimistic. He was in a semi-conscious state, the poison from the insects had already affected his nervous system and life functions.
While I was anxious about Jack's poisoning symptoms, I knew I had to take things step by step. First, I needed to move the source of the fire away from the Wood Chip Dam. I couldn't let the fire burn uncontrollably; that would create a spectacular sight—a fire dragon along the riverbank.
The flames were still manageable, so I moved the fire source not far from the Wood Chip Dam, where there was no wind. As long as it was away from the dam, I didn't have to worry about it being reignited. The campfire was close enough to the Wood Chip Dam for easy access to firewood.
The bats continued to circle above me, their noisy chatter never fading. However, they were afraid of fire and had not approached me since it ignited. This allowed me to focus on taking care of Jack.
Jack lay on the ground like a drunken man, his body slumped over. His face and body were a dark bluish color; if it weren't for his warmth, I might have mistaken him for a corpse.
My skin didn't look good either; it must have been the insect poison taking effect, though it wasn't as lifeless as Jack's color. This showed that eating those insects was Jack's biggest mistake. My goal now was to help him correct that error.
In Jack's backpack, there was an iron kettle we used to boil water. Although we hadn't found any living creatures in the Underground River, we wouldn't drink directly from it—that's common sense.
Even though the bats flew high above, I grabbed a few burning wood chips for cover and ran to the edge of the Underground River to fill a kettle with water.
While waiting for the water to boil, I knelt on one leg while propping up my other leg at a right angle so that Jack could lie on it, his stomach pressing against my raised leg. Then I inserted a finger into his mouth and down his throat to stimulate his esophagus, triggering a gag reflex to make him vomit out whatever was in his stomach.
He could no longer do this himself; his hands couldn't even lift to his mouth, and Jack's senses were already numb. My fingers were lodged deep in his throat, and he merely made a gagging motion without bringing anything up.
I had no choice but to push my fingers deeper into his throat. At that moment, I realized that his poisoning was worse than I had imagined. His throat felt constricted. The toxins in his body were clearly taking effect, causing swelling in his esophagus that made it difficult for him to vomit. It seemed that his reflex to throw up had weakened as well.
In this situation, he needed to be given a large amount of water to dilute the contents of his stomach and the toxins, making it easier for him to expel them and alleviating the symptoms of further poisoning.
This meant I couldn't wait for the water to boil before administering it; waiting for boiling water to cool down would waste precious time. Water that hadn't been sterilized at high temperatures could pose risks, but compared to the immediate threat to his life, it was a lesser concern.
To Be Continued...
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