Page 49 of Blue Arrow Island
This was the smarter move, though. Instead of taking one of the paths out of camp, I went right into the dense, untraveled jungle. The thick vegetation slows me down and the shrill chattering of monkeys makes it hard to hear anything, but the paths would have been a death sentence.
If they come after me, they’ll divide up their fours and send them each down one of the three established routes out of camp. With their speed and the possibility that they’ll be coming after me soon, I couldn’t risk it.
With luck, no one will realize I’m gone until tomorrow. I’m going to put as much distance between me and them as I can before then.
My feet are throbbing, and it’s not from running. I dread the moment I have time to take off the soaking wet socks and shoes I’ve had on for days now. The skin on my feet feels like it’s splitting open with every step I take, and I know I have some kind of infection. It could be bad, and I have no way of treating it, and no way of even letting my feet get dry.
This feels like the beginning of the end. Or maybe the dark hole I just got out of was the true beginning. I’m completely alone out here, the howl of wolves closer than it’s ever been. Oh, and I’m also starving, bleeding and exhausted. The odds are against me.
I have a chance now, though. It’s time to grit my teeth and bear the pain.
Pressure builds diamonds, Dad always said. And this race I’m running for my life is the highest pressure I’ve ever faced.
A low growl sounds to my left, and I glance over. A lion—a fuckinglion—has its gaze trained on me. She’s not huge, but she could easily take me if she wanted to.
Trees and brush stand between us, so she can’t pounce. I leap over a log on the ground and turn my face toward the lion again. She’s following, her head lowered.
I’ve been on the move for a few hours, and the drop in temperature tells me it’s getting close to sunset. I don’t want to be in this jungle after dark.
Though the lion may take care of me before that. The laugh that pours out of me is high-pitched and frenzied. I wish my sister could see me right now. What would she say?
She’d probably tell me to move my ass and ask why I smell like a filthy gas station urinal.
The piss scent is not doing me any favors. It’s attracting predators like the lion.
I slow to a stop, turning to check on the animal that’s stalking me. She can’t reach me because the jungle is so dense. Still, I don’t like that she’s this close to me.
Locking my eyes onto hers, I raise my arms in the air and yell out a quick, single note. I point the spear toward her and fake a lunge.
She steps back. I take a few steps toward her, holding the spear at waist level with both hands.
When she turns to leave, my shoulders sink with relief. My feet plead with me to take off my wet socks and shoes, but I force myself to ignore the pain.
I need water. I look in the bag Olin gave me, tears pooling in my eyes as I sift through its contents.
A full canteen. A blanket. A dry shirt, pants, socks, and underwear. A bar of soap. And three precious mangoes. These things are worth more to me than all the money in the world right now.
I blink, my tears falling and burning the cuts on my face from stray branches. I’m not alone out here. Olin might not be with me physically, but he’s my friend. He risked his life to give me this chance, and I’m going to repay him by surviving. If he ever needs help, I want to be there to give it.
As much as I want to find a way out of this jungle and stop for the night to rest, I can’t. I have to keep going.
I drink about half the water in the canteen and tear into one of the mangoes with my teeth, devouring it. The sugar in the fruit gives me an instant lift.
As soon as I find a safe hiding place far from Rising Tide, I’ll dry my feet and let them heal. For now, I need them to keep me moving, despite the pain.
Warm air whispers against my cheek. I try to ignore it, but a rhythmic, gentle huffing makes my eyes snap open.
My throat is like sandpaper. I swallow against the ache, easing myself back a few inches so I can see what the huge black thing is that’s practically on top of me.
Yellow eyes lock onto mine. I blink, making out a snout and pointy ears.
Shit. It’s a wolf. But I’ve never seen a wolf like this one. It’s solid black, with bright-yellow eyes, and it’s huge—I’d guess two hundred and fifty pounds.
If I stand up, this creature’s back would be at the level of my waist. It could tear a hole in me, I’d die from, in a matter of minutes, if not seconds. Fortunately, it’s just sniffing me, seeming more curious than anything.
My piss-covered clothes are like a flashing beacon. My plan was to get rid of them before I stopped. I remember curling up on my side on the flat surface of a rock, hidden by trees, but I didn’t mean to fall asleep. That was when the sky was just starting to shift from black to gray in preparation for the sunrise.
From the sun’s position in the sky, I can tell it’s late morning. I must have slept for around six hours. That means I need to move fast.
