Just keeps getting Better and better

Cols sat with a huge rock to his back. He had arrived in the early morning and it was afternoon by now. Not far from the pond he had crawled out of was the clearing he was currently in. It was a bit large around 5 by 6 meters. It was surrounded by tall trees on all but one side. The rest was quite a steep slope.

Crying for a couple of hours back to back was maybe not the most manly thing to do. But Col just couldn't get himself to care. However reality was calling and his situation was really terrible. In fact it was a death sentence.

He looked around and saw his backpack. Inside was a basic hiking kit he had taken with him on the excursion when leaving home. He should have brought more. He rummaged around and took stock. He had 5 high energy bars, a half full 2 liter water bottle, his phone, headphones, a pack of sweets, a spare pair of shoes, a spare jacket, a portable solar, a knife, a portable med kit and lastly but definitely most importantly, he had brought his pistol. It only had the one clip so he had to be frugal with ammo but it was something. Maybe he had a chance.

He tensed as he heard a twig snap. His felt a chill spread through his body. He felt like a particularly scaly hand had grabbed his heart. He froze and turned around towards the sound. There, climbing slowly up the slope was a huge ape.

It looked like a silverback if it was a lightweight. The primate was lithe and chiseled not unlike Brian himself. Only the thing was seven feet tall if an inch. The Gore-Rilla had dirty brown green fur, like mold clung to it. Its hairs were raised and fangs barred in a show of aggression.

The moment their eyes met, both of them froze. Col looked into the eyes of his stalker in fear. That frightening maw filled with tusk-like fangs, those rippling muscles and hammer-like fists. He had never seen a creature more designed to kill and tear its prey to pieces. And he was prey.

Knowing the fate that awaited him if he froze, the sweet, delicious prey's hand inched towards his gun ever so slowly never breaking eye contact. A couple seconds later he was moving the gun towards the predator, finger sliding the safety off then proceeding to pull the hammer back. 

As the standoff went on Col could hear a crackling sound. The smell of ozone got more and more prevalent in the air. Col almost just ignored it all. That was until he saw a small flicker of green current on the creature. Although he was a fitness junky, he had read more than his fair share of webnovels. That's why, when the flickers increased he knew it was nothing good. Before he could even process it he quickly brought his firearm up and aimed firing in one smooth, practiced motion.

Two bangs quickly rang out as Col ducked and rolled away on sheer instinct. An explosion rang behind him propelling him into the opposite tree. Some of the rock became shrapnel that cut into his back and lodged there, chilling like it was nothing. He winced in pain and the jarring impact didn't make it better.

Luckily the force was minimal. Pain rippled from his back as he got up, but the adrenaline stopped him from stopping. He swiveled around and saw the ape had seemingly teleported from over twenty meters away and was now five meters away.

One of its club-like fists was embedded in a small crater in the rock. It was twisted in a way no such limb should twist. Or maybe it should. Col simply didn't know enough to say. The other arm hung useless. He hadn't wasted both his weekly target practice and the precious ammo it seems.

He could tell had likely hit a nerve bundle in the shoulder from the small amount of dirty green blood dripping out. Not one to waste time he quickly aimed this time at the malicious green eye. Another bang rang out in the small clearing. 

Brains did not splatter out as he thought they would. That was one seriously thick skull. To his joy however, the eye he aimed for turned into a bloody green mess and the ape slumped down. Before he could even celebrate or mourn the lost life, he heard the sound of lightning crackling behind him. Probably having their curiosity aroused by the noise, two more of sparky George were coming from the same direction. They did not look happy. They just had to be social creatures huh?

He didn't even know whether to laugh or cry as the creatures closed in. This day just kept getting better and better. 

Earlier that morning....

"Lets go kiddo. Your mom's waiting at the top of the mountain" Bruce hurried his son up at the foot of Mount Inyangani."

"What kinda woman organizes a damn reunion on a mountaintop...." Col mumbled under his breath.

"What was that again?" Bruce brought a hand to his ear as he queried.

"I said 'What kind of mountain is this anyway'" Brian replied with a face straight as a washboard.

"For your sake I really hope that's what you said, " Bruce grinned ferally "Cz ain't nobody gon' say nothing about my wife and live. Got me?"

Col took a gulp. His dad had been training him in close quarters combat and ballistics since he learned to walk. The man seemed happy go lucky but he was murderous when called to be. It was kinda an open secret in their family that Bruce was anything but a normal diplomat. After all what diplomat insists that his family be always packing heat?

Col sighed as he shifted his backpack and grimaced at the uncomfortable thought of the firearm on his back. That was not going to make for a pleasant climb. Speaking of climbs....

"Uhhhh yeah. Murder. Death to all... idiots? I guess?" Brian tried to support his parents ideologies. "Soooooo about the mountain..."

"Uh oh that. Yeah I almost forgot. Be careful. Or you will suffer a fate worse than death." Bruce suddenly turned serious. "I know we're not exactly the most religious or spiritual family. But this is the real deal. These mountains are considered holy by the locals. Anoyera, they say. It means they are sacred

"It is said the spirits of their- and your- ancestors, The Wasu, are laid to rest here. The whole mountain cave system is marked with makuva, that is the Shona word for grave. Make sure not to disturb their rest. Be respectful of everything. If you pick a fruit in the mountains and its rotten or tastes bad, don't curse or throw it away.

"Finish it and shut up. Give everything here that level of respect. And you most definitely are not to relieve yourself anywhere on the mountain. So do your business here at the foot."

"But Dad," Col tried to reason with his overly superstitious parent "What's the worst that could happen? I doubt some long desiccated ancestors could even chill me in these temperatures."

As he spoke he became quieter and quieter as he could see his father grow more and more pale at his each and every word. Bruce, the strong confident man looked left and right as if he expected a council of ancient Africans to show up out of the blue and pass judgement. When no thunder and world-shaking event occurred he breathed a visible sigh of relief. Before he exploded in anger.

"Do my damn words mean so little to you boy?!??" he practically fumed. This boy had gone and done exactly what he had been told not to do right after being told not to do it. "Do you take me as a fool? If I say respect a rock you shall damn well kowtow to it as your ancestor you hear me boy? I am your father not your friend!!!" 

Col visibly shrank as his father's tirade continued. He honestly hadn't expected his father to react that way. His father didn't even have a Wasu heritage. It was his mother. 

Bruce calmed down. He took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Listen," Bruce tried to explain as he took another deep breath. "There are things you don't understand. Tomorrow night is the solstice and today is your birthday.

"You are so lucky to have them in such proximity. I understand Inyangani isn't Stonehenge or the Ancient City at Masvingo. The Mosi-oa-Tunya and the Chinhoyi caves' guardians are preoccupied although they most certainly would have been better."

Col's face changed as his father started again. Where the hell did he catch 8th grader syndrome? Both his parents were always cooky like that. Hell they even had a made up language called Lorian. One Col was forced to learn how to read and write it. So he clearly knew it was fake based on its similarities to Shona alone. Col sighed and lost all his tension. 

Seeing his son's deflating face and the tension leaving his shoulders, Bruce felt bitter. They had tried. 18 years they had tried their best and they had succeeded, finally. So much would begin today. So much would be set right. And Col would understand. He just had to survive and meet his mom at the top of the highest peak.