It waited for me to move. I smelled copper blood, meat, and death, the other men that had ventured into this dark corner of the Amazon, surprised in a brutal way.
I shot a glance to my left.
An old, limping palm, barely rooted, looked ready to crawl away from its thin soil bed. Its gangrene trunk seemed too weak to hold me, already burdened by a few fronds that couldn’t even hide the dark clouds above. And down below, hell waiting for me, a raging creature, I decided on this sickly tree. It was my only hope.