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Jacob frantically stumbled over the fallen log, crashing uncontrollably through the dense underbrush and falling to the ground. He scrambled quickly back up to his feet and began running again. Jacob had no idea where he was going, but he knew that he should run. He crashed through some more undergrowth and into a little less dense part of the forest. He spun, looking around. His heart felt as if it were trying to jump out of his chest. His mind was racing. Where had Rick gone? Was the thing following him? Was it following Rick? The two friends had just split up, hoping that at least one of them could get away. He turned and ran again, as he ran; he tried looking over his shoulder to see if that thing was after him. He saw no sign of it. Running through this jungle was tough and he kept stumbling and falling. He looked back again; nothing. He turned his head back just in time to dodge around a large tree, as he jumped to his left, he was knocked off balance with a vicious blow. He felt like he had been run over by a truck or a middle linebacker. He hit the ground hard and bounced once. He tried to regain his balance and scramble back to his feet but just as he began to rise he was knocked backward again by the heavy blow of a large hairy paw. Jacob did not even realize that blood was seeping out of his body in several places. The claws had opened his face and falling through the brush had opened several small wounds on his arms and legs. He tried to rise up to his feet again; his entire body was protesting the movement. He felt as if he were moving in slow motion. A cold blackness was beginning to overcome him as he saw the big paw with the razor sharp claws swinging down toward his face. The blackness now enveloped him, his last thought was: I hope Rick makes it out.
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