We were sick for a while. Though the food and water were clean our bodies required some adjusting to the local microbiome.
Of course, I was expecting this. I’d gotten a lot of background from Thornton as usual. The fact that we’d be facing gastric distress had been hammered into place by the round of vaccinations we’d undergone.
As such malaria and yellow fever were less of a worry. Though I still did not entertain too high a confidence in my immunity. Especially now that I was here.
It was so vastly different. Even the touristy parts we’d seen before heading into the ‘proper’ jungle for Lobo’s little course were forbidding.
I did not relish my discomfort as we moved through the worlds biggest hothouse. We’d been tracking Madonna for some time now. How a two hundred pound rat gets lost is beyond me.
‘The sooner we find that beast the sooner we eat.’ I ruminated as I hovered over the trigger.
Now don’t get me wrong. We weren’t going to eat Lobo’s pet. Just give it’s fur some color via paintballs.
This made me feel doubly sorry for the critter. Capybaras were gregarious. Being alone in this remote area of the Pantanal was as unnatural for a capybara as the space age colors that adorned some of the trees we’d mark with our arsenal.
It had been four hours since we’d left camp and there was no sign of her.
Capybaras only range about 25 acres max on average. But, she was far out of her range. And I really doubted that Lobo would be so lenient. Even though this was our first exercise. He wasn’t the sort to ease people into something.
I wondered if she’d find some other capybaras.
Just then I heard Sam give a long low whistle.
Part I – Kentucky Door
1.1 (Intro) The Sketch of Sam Monroe
1.2 The Cajun Prayer
Part II – The Wizard’s Nod
Help a Hipster