Page 107
Story: Stranded
I try to quiet my breathing, and as he moves, I realize, to our luck, he’s not looking up.He thinks we’re on the ground.Maybe we have a chance after all.
A second man enters my sightline, and I wonder how many of them there are.
I hope it’s only two.
Movement has me glancing down at Weston and I watch as he holds out the gun and takes aim at the first man. I hold my breath and the entire jungle seems to grow silent, waiting for the sound of the gun to fire.
But it doesn’t come. Instead, all I hear is the distinct click on the gun. I watch in horror as Weston tries again, but it makes the same noise.The gun isn’t working.
It’s done one thing, though, it’s alerted these men that we’re here, in the trees. Their guns swing upwards in our direction as they look for us.
Suddenly, Bower drops from where he was hiding, right onto the back of the other man. As he yells out, the first man swings around, giving Weston the chance to drop on top of him.
Unsure what to do, I start to scramble down the tree as the four of them roll around below me, each pair fighting over the gun, and trying not to get shot. I stop on the branch Weston had been perched on to survey the scene and realize Kingsley’s there too. He lifts the sword, then takes a punch to the jaw, falling backwards, the sword flying to the side, making me gasp in fear.
The same man swings the butt of his gun around, knocking Bower to the ground at the same time the first man yells, “Don’t move!” Aiming his gun at Weston’s chest, as he stands there, breathing heavily, his fists clenched at his sides as he glowers back at him.
“Where’s the other one?” The man asks, but nobody speaks. The second man is aiming his gun at the other two as they all stare at each other. “There were four of you. Where is the other guy?” he asks again, his voice taking on a warning tone.
“We’re the only ones here,” Weston growls back.
“Stand up!” The second man yells. Kingsley and Bower quietly get to their feet. “Walk, to the beach.” He gestures with his gun in that direction. They narrow their eyes at him but do as they’re told. “Hands on your heads, you make one wrong move, I shoot. We don’t need three of you to get an answer,” he warns them.
Their hands go up and the first gunman has Weston do the same, following behind them after grabbing the discarded sword. I breathe heavily, my fingers digging into the branch so tight I’m surprised I haven’t cracked it yet.
I have no gun, no sword, no real way to take down two men, both larger than me and armed with weapons that could cut down all four of us before I could even throw a single knife. My pulse thunders in my ears as panic claws at my throat.
What the hell am I supposed to do now?
Chapterthirty-nine
Reece
“Not far now!” I yell to the pilot. “Keep going straight.” I watch the blinking dot on my phone, knowing that at any moment, we’re going to see… something. An island, a raft,somethingto indicate where they are.
I’m praying it’s an island, but until I see it, and see them… safe, I’m not sure I’ll be able to breathe properly.
The chopper blades are the only sound I can hear as my eyes lock on the horizon, waiting for the first glimpse of them.
Then, I see it… a dark blur in the distance that can’t be a raft.
“That looks like an island, sir!” The pilot says loud enough to be heard over the sound of the chopper blades spinning above us.
“Thank fuck for that!” I say, a small smile gracing my lips. The first smile I think I’ve had in two months.
I thought flying in this chopper would be far worse than the plane ride here, which was terrible, but the knowledge that I’m so close to King and Bower has me almost forgetting myfear of flying.
I watch, barely blinking as the island gets larger and larger, until it’s right there in front of us. It’s not huge, but big enough for them to have survived on.
A stream of smoke reaches up from the beach, making me wonder if they saw us coming and lit it.
“Look! Down there, another chopper!” I divert my attention to the beach where he’s pointing and see a chopper sitting there.
“What the fuck?” I ask, wondering what they’re still doing there if someone else found them already.
“Maybe it just arrived?”
But what are the chances of that? They’ve been missing for two months, and are found by two different choppers on the same day.
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