Baboons And Big Walks

It was a Sunday. A Sunday afternoon. Twigs cracked beneath my feet, snapping in two, and then in two again, and in two again until they finally met the darkness of nothingness that awaited them. A rustle came from behind me. I turned my agitated body around. Nothing. I carried on walking my big walk. ‘Just five more kilometres to go’ I told myself. Another rustle. My body spun around on the spot. Two big beady eyes looked me in the face. I looked back at the creature. A baboon. My body spun back around and I started sprinting. The baboon caught on. It started hopping from branch to branch. I swiped the walkie-talkie from my utility belt. “Johnson, I have a baboon on my tail.”
No reply.
I then realised…
Johnson was dead. They must have gotten him too. My legs were starting to tire. I looked at my GPS: only three kilometres to go. The baboon was right above me. An ear-piercing wail came from the beasts’ mouth. It leapt down from the branch it was on and attached itself onto my back. Its claws dug into my flesh, shiny beads of blood gliding down my back to the forest floor. I shook my body like mad, eventually sending the baboon flying into the nearest tree. I tried to carry on running but my back was sending me crazy with pain. The baboon quickly recovered from its collision with the tree, and started to close in on me. It bared its teeth, and began to glide its claws through my flesh. A sudden roar came from behind a tree. A gargantuan lion dashed out from behind the huge oak and towards the baboon. “JOHNSON!” I cried, “I thought you were dead!”
The baboon was ripped from my flesh and rocketed up into the air.

I woke with a start.

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