Page 106 of Stranded

It gives me a small amount of relief to see them with some way to defend themselves. Although I’m not sure what good it will do against machine guns.

“I saw a small notebook in one of their pockets,” Weston says, and I realize he’s staring down at me with concern in his eyes. “It was written in Samoan.”

“What does that mean?” I ask, unsure what he’s trying to tell me.

“They were pirates, Zee. Thieves or smugglers, most likely. They were probably aboard a bigger ship that sank, we’ll never know. But I thought you’d want to know who they were.”

I stare at the ground as I think about that. It doesn’t change what happened, it doesn’t make it any less or any more painful. All it does is help explain their presence and lack of rescue. Finally, I look up at him and nod. “Okay, thanks for telling me.”

“Now we need a plan,” Kingsley says, thankfully changing the subject.

“We’re sitting ducks in this cave, so we need to get back to the jungle,” Weston says as he slowly moves to the cave entrance. Bower grabs my hand and along with Kingsley we follow him. “They’re going to land soon. Our best bet is to stay hidden and try to take them by surprise. We’ll take them out from the ground. How’s your aim, Bower?”

“I’d say average. I’m not terrible, but I’m not a marksman either. And with an unfamiliar gun…” he trails off and shrugs.

“We should use the trees,” I say, bringing three sets of eyes to me. “We can hide in the trees and attack from above when they pass under us.”

Weston slowly nods as he thinks about it. “Yeah, that’s our best bet. Maybe we hold up near the main path, near where you took down Brutus? There’s lots of coverage there.”

I nod and we all move to the edge of the cave. The chopper is disappearing around the far end of the island, giving us the perfect opportunity to get back under the cover of the jungle.

“Alright, three more seconds…” Weston says as we all prepare to run. “Go!”

He leads the way as we all jog down the beach. Bower keeps hold of my hand as we run behind the other two, and it doesn’t take us long to be back in the protection of the trees.

We decide to walk through the jungle instead of running, as the faster movements might be more noticeable if they can see us through the canopy of trees at all. We walk silently, listening to the sound of the chopper as it circles the island.

As we reach the main path, the chopper gets louder and we all freeze, turning our faces to the sky as we listen.

“It’s landing,” Weston announces. “On the beach, let’s move!” We start running down the path until we reach our destination.

“Zee, climb! We’ll be right up behind you,” Weston instructs, and I do as he asks, wasting any time as I leap to the closest branch and scramble up.

I find a few good spots to look over the path with maximum coverage and as they slowly make their way up, Kingsley and Bower on the other side of the path and Weston on my side, I start to grow more and more worried that one, or all of us, are going to get hurt, or worse, killed.

I double check that I still have McStabby in my sheath and my bag is slung over my shoulder with Steve in it. I’m grateful I carry both everywhere.

“Eep!” I jump in surprise and Mo-Mo lands on the branch in front of me, waving his arms as he freaks out.

“Mo-Mo!” I snatch him up and hug him tight to me, quickly pulling back so I can talk to him. “The people who have arrived, they’re bad. You need to go back home and stay there, okay? Make sure all the others do the same. It’s not safe for you out here.”

“Eep!” he trills quietly, his hand reaching out to touch my cheek gently. I push my face into his touch and smile at him.

“I’ll be okay, buddy. My friends here are gonna help protect me. But you gotta go, you’ll give me away and it’s too dangerous for you, understand?”

He holds out his hand for a fist bump, which I return with a tight smile, then he drops down a few branches, landing in front of Weston. I watch with wide eyes as he seems to give him a stern talking to, waving his hands at him as he trills, then waves up in my direction before he goes silent, looking like he’s waiting for an answer.

Weston seems to understand him though, because he nods. “Okay, buddy, don’t worry. I promise to protect her with my life.” My heart jumps in my chest at such bold words, and Mo-Mo lets out a small trill before swinging away, back to his home.

Weston looks up, his eyes meeting mine. He gives me a wink and I give him a tight smile in return.

A noise down the path has us both turning back to watch for our pursuers. Slowly, I lower myself onto my stomach along the branch as I gaze down and wait.

They walk in silence, but I can still hear the sound of their boots crunching on the jungle floor as they head towards us.

This isn’t the first time I’ve spied on men from the trees, but this time, a terrible knot of anxiety twists in my gut. My hands tremble against the bark, and every breath feels too loud, like even the jungle can hear my fear.

When the first man comes into view, my heart pounds so heavily in my chest, I’m sure they’ll be able to hear it. He’s dressed all in black, in what looks to be some sort of tactical gear. He holds a large looking gun, likely a semi-automatic, based on my limited knowledge, as he scans his surroundings, his gun moving with his eyeline.

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