Temple Run Book One Run for Your Life: Jungle Trek Read online




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  First published in the United Kingdom by Egmont UK Limited, 2014

  First published in the United States of America by Egmont USA, 2014

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  New York, NY 10016

  Cover illustration by Jacopo Camagni

  Interior illustrations by Artful Doodlers

  Text & illustrations copyright © 2014 Imangi Studios, LLC

  All Rights Reserved

  www.ImangiStudios.com

  www.egmontusa.com

  ISBN 978-1-60684-571-4

  eBook ISBN 978-1-60684-574-5

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, electronic, photocopying, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher and copyright holder.

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  v3.1

  With special thanks to Adrian Bott

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Acknowledgments

  First Page

  “We’re clear for takeoff!”

  Guy Dangerous leans back from the pilot’s chair to give you a grin and a thumbs-up.

  This is going to be the best birthday party ever. You can’t believe your luck, winning a whole weekend on your very own private beach, complete with cookout, scavenger hunt, Jet-Skiing … you can’t wait to get underway. The prize is just for you and five of your closest, hand-picked friends, all expenses paid.

  Usually, having a birthday during a school break means having to do stuff with the whole family, but this time there are strictly no parents. This time, it’s an adventure.

  You sit and look through your winner’s letter and the shiny brochures, thinking of the awesome time that awaits at the other end of this plane ride.

  “Hang on!” calls Scarlett Fox from the seat next to yours. “I think our VIP’s forgotten something.”

  What can she—oh, right. In all the excitement, you’ve forgotten to fasten your seat belt. It clicks as you slot it into position.

  Scarlett nods and makes a final check on her checklist. “Five by five. We’re good to go.”

  Guy slips on some dark glasses. He flicks a switch and “La Macarena” blasts into the cabin. “Thanks for flying Dangerous Airlines. We do our best not to live up to our name, but if you need to throw up, please do it into your own lap and not someone else’s …”

  “Guy, be a darling and shut it, would you?” Scarlett says sweetly.

  “Roger that.”

  The engines roar, the plane picks up speed, and your stomach suddenly lurches as the wheels leave the ground.

  Scarlett pulls a laptop from her bag—how many gadgets can one woman have, you wonder—and flips it open. “Just emailing your parents to say we’re in the air,” she tells you. “Aha. Looks like your guests are on their way, too. So far, so good!”

  “Don’t jinx it,” Guy growls.

  Scarlett snaps her laptop shut. “There. All done. That’s the last the outside world will hear from us for a while.”

  Scarlett Fox has to be the most organized person you’ve ever met. The competition runners knew what they were doing when they picked the smart, red-haired British woman to be your party planner. She’s thought of everything in advance.

  As for Guy Dangerous, your unshaven pilot, he looks like he just rolled out of bed and into his combat boots. But the wisecracking American knows the wilderness, and that’s just what you need in a tour guide. You’ve seen a few episodes of his reality TV show, Whatever It Takes, featuring Guy showing celebrities how to survive in the wild. Everyone’s seen the one where he talks the runway model into eating the five-inch caterpillar. Yuck.

  You just have to hope he doesn’t take any crazy risks, like the ones that got him fired from the TV show … but you don’t imagine he can get into too much trouble on a tropical beach. Maybe he’ll try to find an octopus to wrestle or something.

  The hours in the air pass easily. You play games on your brand-new tablet, another part of your competition prize. Guy hums, drinks coffee, and jokes with you. Scarlett checks and re-checks the contents of her bag—“a first-aid kit, mosquito repellent, flares”—and charts your position on a GPS hooked up to her laptop. Right now, the plane’s flying over a screenful of bright green.

  You look out the window. The jungle below covers the landscape like thick moss. Towering trees loom up out of it. You’re flying so low, it’s like you could reach out and touch the leaves.

  “Hey, Scarlett! Why’d you bring all that junk, anyway?” Guy shouts over the noise of the engines. “There’ll be supplies at Palomar Beach.”

  Scarlett wrinkles her nose. “It’s best to be prepared for anything. You never know what might happen.”

  Guy snorts. “Give me a good sharp machete over your bag of tricks any day of the week.”

  Just then, you hear something odd that makes you sit up in your seat. Did one of the engines just … well … sputter?

  Maybe you’re hearing things. Guy and Scarlett don’t seem to have noticed it … or if they did, they’re ignoring it.

  “Hey, check out the view! See the mountains?” Guy points out two peaks above the jungle.

  “The Horns of the Sleeping God. That’s what the folklore calls them,” says Scarlett. “We’re halfway to Palomar Beach, folks!”

  “Woo-hoo!”you cheer, pumping a fist in the air …

  … and that’s when the engines start to shudder.

  Nobody speaks for a few horrible seconds. Then you hear the voice of Guy Dangerous: “Awww, no, you’ve got to be kidding me!”

  “What’s going on?” you yell.

  “We’re losing altitude!” He slaps the dashboard.

  Scarlett glances your way. “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about,” she says coolly. “Guy’s a professional. He can handle a little hiccup like this. Right, Guy?”

  Guy’s only answer is a grunt. Meanwhile, the engines gasp like they’re running out of breath.

  “We’ve got a problem,” Guy eventually says. “A big problem. Fuel line must have come loose or something, because … the tanks are empty. We’re running on fumes.”

  “Can we make it to an airport?” you ask.

  “Kid, we won’t even make it over this jungle.”

  He’s not joking. “What?” you yell.

  “I know! This is crazy. There was plenty of fuel when we took off.”

  “Did you check?” Scarlett snaps.

  “Yes! I mean, I’m pretty sure.”

  “Now you’re only ‘pretty sure’! Do I have to remind you of everything?”

  Guy struggles with the controls. He does his best to level the plane, but you know deep down that you’re not going to reach Palomar Beach for a long time. Maybe not ever. Even the best pilot in the world can’t make a plane fly without fuel.

  That jungle outside the window looks a lot closer now. The engines rattle and gargle like they’re choking to death. You know where the emergency parachutes are, because of Scarlett’s pre-flight briefing, but you never thought you might actually need to use them.

  “W
e’re going down,” Guy says, sounding grim. “Hold on tight!”

  You crane your head around so you can see into the cockpit. The fuel needle is in the red, and a warning light’s flashing. How could Guy have missed that? And how come checking the fuel tank wasn’t on one of Scarlett’s checklists?

  Outside, the jungle rushes past, so close you can see the leaves on the trees. It’s enough to freeze you with fear. Those tree trunks will rip off the bottom of this plane if you drop any lower.

  “Going to set her down by the foot of the mountains,” grunts Guy. “I’m not going to lie … this’ll be a bumpy landing!”

  You quickly get into the crash-landing position. Head down, hug your knees, and hope. Beside you, Scarlett does the same. She’s even got an inflatable impact cushion ready. That woman is prepared for anything.

  “Sorry, kid,” says Guy. He sounds like he really means it.

  Scarlett hollers, “Don’t bother with apologies, you oaf! Just get us through this alive!”

  There’s a deafening crash. You feel like all your bones have been knocked out of your body. The plane hits the ground, bumps up, hits again. There’s a screech of torn metal as one of the wings is ripped away from the fuselage. You hear breaking glass and smell gasoline. Then everything goes dark …

  *

  “Hey! You’re awake!”

  You sit up groggily. You’re in a rocky clearing, surrounded by debris. Your plane—what’s left of it—lies in a mangled wreck just outside the tree line. Your arms and legs ache, but you know you’re lucky to be alive at all.

  Guy passes you a cup of water. You notice the bandage around his head. “Oh, yeah,” he says. “Took a knock on the dashboard as we went down. Good thing I have a hard head!”

  “Scarlett?” you ask. “Did she …?”

  “She’s fine!” Guy says quickly. “Walked away without a scratch. She’s tougher than she looks, you know.”

  At that moment, you hear Scarlett yelp. She comes tumbling out of the remains of the cockpit, holding a black box you recognize as the radio.

  “Gotcha!” she says, standing up and dusting herself off. “It didn’t want to come out, but I persuaded it. OK, let’s see if this works.”

  You’re not sure if the radio is broken or what, but Scarlett can’t get anything other than a hissing whine out of it. As she fusses and sighs, you ask Guy what happened to her GPS and laptop.

  Guy just jerks a thumb at the wrecked plane. “Don’t ask. She’s in a bad enough mood already. Want to help me drag out the emergency supplies?”

  Soon, you’re all sitting together among what’s left of the supplies.

  Scarlett’s managed to rescue some of her gizmos. She’s even begun a new checklist. “OK. We have enough water for three, maybe four days. The food will last us a day at most. We’re miles away from civilization, we’re not on any known flight paths, there’s thick jungle in every direction, and the sun’s going down in three hours. Any questions?”

  You’ve got one. “What should we do about it?”

  “That’s what I like to see!” Guy grins. “A can-do attitude!”

  “I say we split up and head out in different directions,” says Scarlett.

  Guy agrees. “Whoever reaches civilization first can send help back for the others.”

  You look over your shoulder at the looming jungle. Thick vines hang down like webs. There’s no telling what might be lurking between those huge tree trunks. You think over Scarlett’s words and wonder why you aren’t on any known flight paths. Do regular airline flights avoid this jungle for some reason? Was Guy taking risks again, flying the plane somewhere he shouldn’t have?

  “Actually … maybe you shouldn’t head off on your own,” Scarlett tells you. “Buddy up with me. Safer that way.”

  “Or with me,” Guy says, hands on his hips.

  What do you want to do? It’s up to you! Guy Dangerous loves to take risks. But he’s also a well-known survival expert. On the other hand, Scarlett Fox is super organized and has a bag full of useful high-tech gadgets.

  Then again, the three of you could cover more ground if you went off alone. Maybe you’re tough enough to handle the jungle without anyone’s help. They may be adults, but Guy and Scarlett haven’t exactly kept you out of danger so far, have they?

  To go with Guy, turn to this page.

  To go with Scarlett, turn to this page.

  Or, if you want to head off on your own, turn to this page.

  “You go first,” you tell Guy. “I’ll wait here.” Guy sets off across the bridge, taking it at a run. Halfway across, his foot goes straight through one of the planks. He catches himself in time—“Watch your step!” he says—and keeps running. You’ve got a bad feeling about this.

  A grunting, snorting noise comes from the jungle. You freeze.

  There’s some kind of animal out there. You glimpse its hulking form moving between the trees. What is that thing? It’s too big to be a human. You smell something bad, like rotting food.

  “Hey!” Guy yells from his side of the bridge. “It’s safe. Come on over!”

  The thing in the jungle makes the grunting noise again. It’s definitely getting closer. Time to leave. You run out onto the bridge.

  Luckily, it holds your weight. Some of the boards creak and one of the ropes snaps suddenly, but you make it to the other side with nothing worse than a few rattled nerves.

  “There’s some sort of creature in the jungle,” you tell Guy.

  “Did you get a look at it?”

  “Not much of one. It’s big, though.”

  Guy thinks for a moment. Before you can stop him, he’s pulled his machete out and hacked through the ropes holding the bridge up. It falls and smashes against the cliff on the other side.

  You gawk at him. “What did you do that for?”

  “If there’s something weird out there, we don’t want it following us,” Guy says.

  You glance over your shoulder. He’s got a point. Time to press on. You head into the jungle, looking for any sign of civilization.

  Run on to this page.

  Whump! You fall free from the zip-line and land, rolling over and over, on the far side. Scarlett follows you across the same way. “See?” she gasps. “Nothing to it.”

  You look up ahead, to see where the mysterious stone path leads. It’s overgrown with scrub and jungle ferns, but you can still see it turns into a set of steps that lead up the side of some kind of structure.

  “I think it’s a building,” you tell Scarlett.

  “The temple?” Scarlett says, her eyes wild with excitement. She starts to run and almost falls over a sprawling skeleton, half-hidden by the vegetation.

  You run along after her. The skeleton, you’re glad to see, is only that of some animal, maybe a goat or a sheep. Funny how Scarlett didn’t even give it a second glance.

  You pound up the stone steps and realize you’re climbing the side of a low, flat tower as broad across as a football field. It must have been part of a city’s defenses once.

  What you see next stops you dead in your tracks. Scarlett stares, too. There’s a helicopter parked on the flat stone surface. It’s gleaming and black, and looks very expensive. Along the tail run the words:

  ZACK WONDER

  ENTERPRISES INTERNATIONAL

  “Zack Wonder?” you say. “Like, the super-famous football player?”

  “Who else could afford this?” Scarlett glances around desperately. “It’s his personal chopper. So he must be here somewhere! But why is anyone’s guess.”

  There doesn’t seem to be anyone around, though. No pilot, no owner … nothing.

  “We could fly it out of here,” you suggest. “I mean, we are stranded.”

  “Let me see …”Scarlett fiddles with the electronic key, prodding and poking with some technical tools from her bag. Eventually, she manages to start the engine. For the first time since you met her, she doesn’t seem to know what she’s doing.

  “Do you mind
if I have a go?” you ask politely.

  Scarlett raises an eyebrow. “You can fly a chopper?” She looks very reluctant about the idea.

  “How hard can it be?” You’ve practiced enough times in video games, after all. All this electronic wizardry in the cockpit should keep you safe. Modern helicopters pretty much fly themselves, don’t they?

  If you’d prefer Scarlett to fly the helicopter, go to this page.

  To insist on flying it yourself, go to this page.

  If you’d rather explore the wider area in the hope of finding the helicopter’s owner, go to this page.

  “Whoa,” says Guy, impressed. “Check that out! Nice view.”

  The path has led you to the edge of a ravine, where the jungle falls away in steep cliffs on either side. Down at the bottom, a rushing river foams over sharp-looking rocks. There’s a rope bridge leading across to the other side. A small, dead-looking tree hangs over the cliff edge on that end, dangling its branches into the ravine.

  You’re not sure, but you think you can see the shapes of tents or huts through the trees on the far side. You wish you had a pair of binoculars. Scarlett probably has some in her bag of tricks, wherever she is now.

  You take a better look at that rope bridge. Gulp. A narrow, swaying bridge across a ravine is scary enough, but the more you look at it, the more you wonder just how long it’s been there. It’s not in good shape. Some of the planks are missing and the old ropes look about as sturdy as dental floss.

  Before you can stop him, Guy Dangerous has already run to the bridge and is starting to cross it!

  “Guy!” you shout. “Wait up!”

  He holds out his hands. “What’s the problem?”

  The bridge creaks ominously under his weight …

  You could cross the bridge with Guy. Safety in numbers and all that … Go to this page.

  Or you could wait for Guy to cross first, then cross the bridge yourself. Turn to this page.

  Or if you want to run back into the jungle, turn to this page.