Originally written for Micro Monday, but not posted because it would have been a nightmare to read at campfire.

You gasp for breath in the humid air as you trek through the jungle. The crashed plane had not been in your biology research plans. Swatting away a mosquito, you smile as you see an end to the green hell ahead, the sky poking between the tree trunks. Another few minutes, and you reach the edge of a cliff and get a view of your surroundings. Do you:
Follow the river downstream?: Go to ONE
Follow the river upstream?: Go to TWO
Head for the mountains?: Go to THREE

ONE: It's a treacherous route down to the river, and you pick up scrapes on the way. You fear infection, until you remember you'll reach civilization or die before that becomes a problem. You push on until the sun is a couple hours from the horizon. Do you:
Press on until nightfall?: Go to FOUR
Use the light to make camp?: Go to SIX

TWO: You tire quickly walking uphill, but you trudge on. Eventually, your canteen runs dry. Do you:
Drink the river water to stay hydrated?: Go to FIVE
Hunt for cleaner water in the jungle?: Go to SIX

THREE: It's a long climb, and you're exhausted before you reach half way. Too tired to gather enough wood, your fire burns out in the night.
Go to SIX

FOUR: Buildings ahead. People! Civilization. Your research is a success. You even discover a new parasite species! The hard way. THE END

FIVE: You are a biologist; you knew this was a bad idea. The cramps hit, and all you can do is huddle by a tree. Only by sheer luck does a passing river boat spot you. It is a long road to recovery in the hospital, but you survive. THE END

SIX: The jaguars eat well tonight. THE END