Page 70 of Lost Paradise

“None of us will be eaten by anyone or anything,” I say after a moment of silence, determined not todiscourage anyone.

As Jack leads us through the dense undergrowth, the tension in the air is tangible, thick with anticipation and dread. The faint glow of firelight dances through the bushes ahead, as the smoke billowing the sky casts eerie shadows that flicker and dance in the night. The distant sound of chanting drifts through the jungle, a haunting melody that sends shivers down my spine.

We move with cautious determination, each step measured and deliberate as we draw closer to the source of the ominous sounds. The air is thick with the scent of smoke and sweat, the heat of the flames growing more intense with each passing moment.

And then, suddenly, we emerge from the dense foliage into a clearing, our breath catching in our throats as we take in the scene before us.

A ring of savages surround a roaring bonfire, their bodies painted with intricate patterns of swirling designs and symbols. Their chants rise and fall in a hypnotic rhythm, filling the night air with an otherworldly energy.

At the far end of the clearing, we see him. Astro, naked and vulnerable, sits huddled in a small caged box, his body covered in mud and filth. His eyes are wide with fear, his face drawn and pale as he gazes out towards the people who hold his life at stake.

It's clear from the looks on their faces that the savages intend to use him as a sacrifice, their intentions dark and sinister. But despite the terror that grips my heart, I refuse to give into despair.

As I take in the sight of the savages, their weapons gleaming in the firelight, a cold knot forms in the pit of my stomach.

Fuck. We’re so fucked.

My gaze lingers on the crude weapons the savages wield, their bows and arrows, their metal spears most likely scavenged from shipwrecks. It's a stark reminder of the vast difference in armament power between us and them.

"We're outnumbered," I whisper, my words heavy with the weight of our predicament. "And our simple bamboo fishing spears won't protect us against what they have."

"Eve," I say, turning to her with a sense of urgency, "you need to go back to the shore where it's safer. They've never bothered us there."

But Eve's response is swift and resolute, her eyes blazing with defiance as she rejects my suggestion with her expression alone.

“I'm not leaving," she insists, her voice trembling with determination. "I can fight. We can fight."

I shake my head, my heart heavy with the weight of our impending battle. "Killing someone is not as simple as you think," I argue, my voice tinged with a hint of sorrow.

And then, in a moment of realization, Eve's expression shifts, her eyes widening in shock as she comprehends the gravity of my words. She knows, in that instant, that I speak from experience, that I carry the burden of lives lost on my shoulders.

The truth hangs between us like a heavy shroud, casting a shadow over our already grim situation. But despite the pain it brings, I know that it's a truth we must confront if we are to survive the night ahead.

“We’ll have to kill,” I explain, my voice heavy with the weight of the truth. “I don’t want that on your conscience, darling.”

“I agree with Mr. Coldwell,” Zane adds, his voice steady and resolute.

“He’s right, Eve. You shouldn’t have to bear that kind of thing on your shoulders,” Byron adds, his tone somber and sympathetic.

In this unforgiving wilderness, survival demands sacrifices, and I refuse to let Eve bear the burden of such a terrible choice alone.

As we huddle together, discussing our options in hushed tones, Jack suddenly materializes from the shadows, a mischievous grin playing on his lips as he brandishes a handful of weapons stolen from the savages.

I can't help but be startled at his sudden appearance, a pang of unease gnawing at my insides, and I realize I hadn't even noticed his absence.

How had he managed to slip away unnoticed?

And how the fuck did he not manage to alert his presence to the savages?

"If you were that close, why didn't you free Astro?" Eve's question hangs in the air like a heavy fog, her voice tinged with disbelief as she stares at Jack, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"I thought it would be more fun fighting," Jack shrugs nonchalantly, his expression unreadable as he offers a flippant response for us.

A ripple of discomfort passes through the group, a collective sense of unease settling over us like a dark cloud. Jack's cavalier attitude towards such a serious situation is unsettling, to say the least, and I can see the skepticism reflected in the faces of my teammates.

"Jack, it’s official, you're a basket case,"Zane mutters under his breath, his voice tinged with exasperation.

Byron nods in agreement, his expression one of bemusement. "You're a regular bizarro, aren't you?" he adds, a hint of amusement coloring his words.

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