The Monkey Bridge (flash fiction)

Two monkeys on a rickety bridge via AI

He brings me here by helicopter and leaves me stranded with extravagant promises and a fully charged phone. I hear nothing from him after the first instructional text, and the phone dies on day five. I ration the food and drinking water, but soon I have no choice but to set off through the jungle on foot. Though I possess a map and a good sense of direction, I have no way to defend myself, especially against the monkeys.

These aren’t cute little zoo monkeys scampering on a trapeze; they are howling, shrieking demons. With fangs. They like to hang out on the bridge I need to cross to get to the next safe house. The other direction leads straight back to the gang we escaped from in the first place, to the north is mountains, and to the west is the sea, so I have to face the monkeys.

As if that isn’t bad enough, the old rope bridge has seen better days—much better days. 

I leave at dawn because the monkeys are usually less active then, but unfortunately two of the creatures are already stationed on the bridge. Although my legs are trembling, I try to approach with confidence, thinking they might respect that. I can’t help but glance down at the rushing river and jagged rocks visible through the irregularly placed slats, and when I look up again the monkeys have moved closer to me.

“Maybe they’re just curious,” I mutter to myself. At least this pair isn’t yelling—they’re eerily quiet and staring at me with gleaming eyes. I decide the staring is worse than their screaming.

I adjust my backpack, take out a granola bar, and break it in half. “Here’s my toll,” I tell the monkeys and toss a piece to each. I grab the rope and step onto the bridge. 

It creaks and sways alarmingly. The monkeys ignore the treat and bare their teeth at me. “It’s cool,” I say, trying not to freak out. Gripping the rope tightly with both hands now, I take another step. 

A scream tears through the trees…

~*~

Written for Fandango’s Story Starter #259.