Courtney jogs just ahead of me, clearly lost in her thoughts. I’d never say this out loud, but in a way, I wonder if this all happened for a reason. If Shane and Luna going first was what needed to happen. It would have been hard for me to turn on them, to know that whatever decision I made would cost either their life or ours. Courtney, though? She never could have done it. She wouldn’t, and I honestly don’t know where that would have left us.
I wasn’t nearly as close to them as she was, but you can’t spend as much time with people as we did, for as long as we did, and not feel a sense of friendship, a sense of community. And we didn’t just lose them, we watched them be murdered in cold blood right before our eyes. It’s enough to leave a lasting impact and allow us to feel zero guilt should it come down to us or their murderers.
Hopefully, things don’t come to that, though. It would be easier if we could just get in, grab the key and get out of here. No confrontation. No epic showdown or whatever the fuck else could happen. But something in me knows that’s all just false hope. These people want a show. The crew and whoever the fuck the filming is actually for. They won’t settle for a conflict-free resolution. They want the chaos, the drama, the blood. And I’ll give them whatever the fuck they want so long as it gets Courtney and myself off this goddamn island.
We’ve been walking for a while now, and the sun is sinking lower and lower as the wildlife around us is beginning to come alive. Birds, frogs and other noises I’m not familiar with echo all around as I look down at the map. It looks like we’re a little over halfway there from what I can tell, thank God.
So far, it’s been mostly thick woods with the occasional hill orvalley, but nothing too intense. I’m actually surprised. I almost expected it to be more challenging. More?—
Pain ricochets through me, and my entire body goes cold.
“AHHH!” I scream and drop to the ground.
“Landon? What’s wrong!” Courtney cries as she rushes back to me.
A tingling sensation steals through me as my brain tries to process the excruciating pain. I look down at my leg, my eyes rounding when I see the large hunting trap closed on my left shin, sharp metal teeth sticking into my flesh as blood begins to seep out of me.
“Fuckkk,” I groan and throw my head back to avoid looking at it.
“Oh my God! Oh my God. Okay. It’s gonna be okay. You’re going to be fine. I’m gonna get you out of this. Let me just take a look,” Courtney says, attempting to mask her fear as she crouches down beside the trap.
“Just pry it open,” I grit through clenched teeth as a bead of sweat rolls down my forehead.
She nods, then grabs hold of either side of the trap’s mouth and begins pulling it apart. I watch her struggle as she separates it slowly, the teeth pulling out of my skin inch by inch—before her grip slips and the trap comes snapping shut once more.
Blood runs down my leg, and I scream until my throat is raw. I take quick breaths, exhaling roughly as Courtney frantically tries to grip it again.
“I’m sorry! Oh my God! I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Fuck, of course you’re not okay. And I just made it worse. I tried to hold it, but?—”
“Courtney,” I snap quickly, cutting off her frantic rambling. “I’m f-fine, baby. Just… g-get this thing off me… I’ll help hold it back, yeah?”
Her eyes are filled with unshed tears. “Wait. Actually, I-I think I need a tourniquet.”
She looks around, then pulls off the jacket tied around her waist and slips it beneath my calf above the trap. When she tightens the material, tying it off, I muffle my shout.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
I shake my head. “It’s okay. Thank you.”
She nods, then we each grab one side of the trap and attempt to pull the jaws apart. Her arms shake as she strains, and I’m operating on adrenaline alone to pry this thing open, but finally the teeth are out of my skin enough for me to yank my leg out.
The instant I do, we rip our hands away, allowing the sharp clank of it shutting to echo through the woods as I fall onto my back. My chest heaves as I stare at the sky, doing my best to control my breathing. Finally, when my heart rate settles a bit, I look down to see my leg is still seeping blood from the multiple puncture holes.
Fuck. That’s not good.
“Oh my God! It’s bad! It’s so bad! Shit! What are we going to do?” Courtney panics.
“The first thing we’re going to do is take a breath,” I say, trying to calm her.
She looks at me like I’m a lunatic. “Why are you acting all cool and collected? Your leg looks like it’s been chomped by a hungry, hungry hippo!”
“Because one of us has to keep their shit together, and that’s my job,” I rasp.
She huffs out a breath, and then another. “We need to stop the bleeding,” she says, scanning my leg. “Clearly, that jacket tourniquet isn’t doing the job.”
“Check the bags,” I grit through clenched teeth.
Courtney nods and begins ransacking them, but I don’t have the ability or energy to tell her not to fling our shit all overthe forest floor. Finally, she races back over with a plain black T-shirt and presses the material to my raw flesh.
