“It’s after us,” cried Frankie. “Devin, take a left!” Wham! I hit a tree. “I meant the other left!” “Now you tell me!” “I almost wish we were back fighting pirates,” Jim huffed as we tore through the jungle. “Long John Silver and his crutch seem less terrible than some island monster.” “It’s like an old horror movie,” I said, slapping my way through the hanging vines. “And those never end up good—” But as fast as we were, the creature was much faster, thudding along the ground then leaping into trees, swinging on vines, scampering along branches. In no time, it had worked its way around and dropped to the ground right ahead of us. We screeched to a stop. I gaped at the thing crouching there. It was breathing heavily. “Don’t eat us!” I cried. “Wait a second!” said Frankie. “That’s not a crazy, kid-eating monster. It’s … it’s … a man!” It was a man. Though he was about as disguised as you could get. He was little and wiry and thin, with a long dirty white beard that hung to his waist.
