In the Jungle the mighty Jungle...

Sitting in the back seat with his head resting on a foggy window and his right leg stretched over the middle slot ,called a gunners stand, giving room for his left nub leg to nestle in the legroom between the driver's seat and Simons backseat as he can avoid messing up any of the bandages or stitching used in his nub.

Simon hasn't even bothered to clean or redressed the bandages on his left leg. Its almost like the mindset where the less you look at it, the less painful it is. Not to mention the most confusing mix of being comfortable and extremely akward.

Comfy for the fact he can stretch out so much in a small humvee, yet awkward for his mind telling him that he can't sit this way, as if some part of Simon hasn't acknowledged his left nub of a leg

The pain medication begins its magic washing away the pain and itchyness of Simons phantom leg, making him drowsy causing the negative thoughts to flood his mind again

He begins to weep thinking of his friend he couldn't save, Horrucks.

Doubts rise with his tears.

Regret becomes caught in his throat.

Will this work? Who will I even call? If I can't save Horrucks, I can't even save myself.

This is all my fault.

Felicia would feel nothing but pity for me in this sorry state, she'll even have to take care of me. I can't trouble her or anyone with myself. Maybe I'm better off in this humvee if I never wake up.

Breath dude

Inhale thru the nose, exhale thru his quivering lips

It would be easy to quit right now, he thinks to himself

Unfortunately, you're trained not to quit.

Yep, just bottle up the fact you woke up to a camp full limbs and a missing leg. Real healthy.

Least you're no-

RWAHHHH

Screams of a woman interrupts Simon's pep talk, causing him to flinch to his rifle.

He hugs the rifle to his chest as though he were a child.

Who is that? I figured everyone was dead!

He scans the view through the window, Simon's bright brown eyes darting left to right.

Even after his eyes adjusted to the dark, there was nothing out of the ordin-

RWAHHHHOWHHHH

There she goes again! Almost like imitating a dying cat?

Simon's head begins to hurt trying to comprehend the situation as well as what his next move should be.

Should he try to get out and save her, stoned put of his mind and with one leg? What if it's something trying to draw him ou-

BOOM! RWAHHHHH

Something pushes the door to Simon, slamming his face making him lean on the gunners seat.

He aims his gun at the door screaming,

"AYAYE STOP! I HAVE A GUN!"

His finger on trigger, ready to blast anything at the door.

As if in response, something begins scratching at the door, echoing across the humvee, irritating Simons ears

With his right leg he kicks the door, not to open it but to stop the irritating scratching sounds upon instinct.

It flinches back giving Simon a proper view in what's attacking him.

It looks like a cat Simon thinks to himself

No it's a mountain lion!

It reveals itself as a tan mountain lion spinning in a circle as if chasing its own tail.

"What the hell?" Simon whispers to himself.

The mountain lion stops mid spin to begin furiously nodding

As though saying, Yep yep yep yes sir right away, Simon jokes to himself.

It's so odd seeing a mountain lion do this.

The mountain lion stops his nodding, it's head begins slowly creeping to the top of the woodline as if studying the leaves.

With a 180 degree hop, it grabs a rotting arm with its large fangs, sprints into the other direction away from whatever the leaves have spooked it.

RWAHHHH

It roared as it ran away, fading into the woodline

Simon studied the leaves the mountain lion ran away from, wondering what spooked it.

Nothing out of the ordinary from a tall tree flowing in the late night wind.

That was bizarre Simon thinks to himself.

What would cause a predator to act that way? Maybe it ate too many rotting limbs and became severely sick.

Great now we have to worry about a starving and sick predator.

Simon will make a mental note to prepare for this tomorrow, until then he needs sleep.

As Simon begins adjusting to his previous awkwardly comfortable sleeping position, a flowing movement catches his eye from the window.

He sits up again, blinking repeatedly so his eyes adjusts to the dark.

Nothing except the flowing woodline again, the moon shining thru the leaves.

Maybe it's our mind playing with the shadows, Simon thinks to himself.

I could've sworn one of the branches was a giant hand.