“But we need—”
“I said run!” I shove her towards the north, where there’s some tree cover, and she finally gets her ass moving. By the time she reaches the trees, I’ve shoved our tarp andAnne of Green Gablesinto my bag. I’m just a few feet behind her, but the boat is already coming ashore. April is barely sheltered within the grove when she collapses, struggling for breath. I duck behind a Douglas fir and lock eyes with her, trying to will strength back into her limbs.
“April, run!” I hiss. “I’ll buy you some time and then—”
“I’m not… leaving you.” Her breathing is laboured.
“I’ll catch up. Get a head start.”
“Can’t.”
Her cheeks are ghastly white. I can feel our chance of escape slipping away. The men with the guns are going to come and drag us away to their island and after that…
My mind sputters out. The people Mum met at the river didn’t seem dangerous. But clever people hide their true intentions. They said we could go to the island if we showed up unarmed, so why are these guys carrying guns? They don’t want to meet as equals, which means we can’t trust them. On instinct, my hand goes for the slingshot in my pocket.
April takes a steadying gulp of air, the colour starting to return to her face. “I think I’m ready to—”
Before she can say more, gravel crunches as someone disembarks the boat. The boots have a heavy tread and surely belong to one of the armed men. I track the sound of footsteps as the man walks towards the barrel where the remains of our fire are smouldering.
A deep grunt reaches my ears. “Not this shit again.” Then there’s a strange crackly noise. “We’ve got an empty beach.”
“Do you need back up?” Another distorted voice joins the conversation, though how I can’t guess. I haven’t heard anyone else come ashore.
“No, stay on the boat. I’m coming back.” He takes a few steps. It’s almost too good to be true. He’s going to leave without looking in the woods, because he doesn’t want to get caught in a trap either. We’re going to survive to see another day.
Except, now how are we going to get April medical treatment?
Doubt nags at me, as in the background his voice retreats. “There’s signs of a small camp, but I don’t see enough footprints for TNS or—wait.” And then I hear the tell-tale sound of a gun sliding off his shoulder and the mechanical click of hands taking their position. “You the one who lit the fire, kid?”
April. He’s seen April.
There’s no time for carefully weighing my options. I dart out from between the trees, firing the moment I get a clear view. My stone flies true and hits him squarely in the back of the hand.
“Shit!” He cries out as he loses his grip on the rifle.
“April, RUN!”
We’ve got seconds before he gets that gun up and takesaim. All I could do was draw his fire onto me instead of her. But as I dive into the protection of the trees, she’s just gaping at him like a wide-mouthed toad. Every animal has a fight, flight or freeze response. And lucky me, my precious baby sister defaults to the worst possible option. Really, it’s a miracle we’ve survived this long.
“Backup! Yes, get down here!” he yells into a small black box, wasting a few more seconds he could have spent shooting us. “And you! Sally Slingshot! Stop running. Don’t give my guys something worth putting a bullet in.”
I press my back against one of the trees, teeth gritted in anger. I don’t want to obey. If this was just about my survival, running would still be my best bet. Like he said, bullets are expensive. I don’t know of anybody who can make new ones these days, so it’s not worth spending one on an enemy who just wants to get away from you.
But April has crawled out from behind the protection of her cedar and stepped blatantly into the open. I would ask who raised her, except this failure is entirely on me.
“Is that a walkie-talkie?” she asks, her voice strangely bright. “I’ve seen pictures, but I’ve never—”
She breaks off as two more men jump off the boat, both with guns. One heads straight for me.
“Drop the slingshot,” he says. He’s tall and wiry, with a few whisps of dark hair coming loose from a bandana. There’s a hard line to his frown—and I wouldn’t bet on me if the two of us ended up in a fist fight. So, I drop the slingshot, and raise my hands above my head for good measure. He notices the knife strapped to my thigh and pulls that out, before directing me towards the clearing around the smoking signal fire.
The third guy has April, leading her forward by the hand. We all gather around the one who must be their leader, wrapping a piece of cloth around his bleeding hand.As I come within a couple feet of him, his eyes flick up to me, and I stagger backward.
It might sound odd, considering I already shot him, but I never properlylookedat him. Now, he’s all I can see. My own, personaloh shitmoment manifested in human form.
To start with, he’s massive—taller than Bandana Man with shoulders twice as wide. Honestly, why did he bother bringing a gun? A guy like this could pop my head off with one hand. Right now, he looks like he wants to. He glowers at me, and I stare mutely, stupidly back. He’s blonde haired and blue eyed, with a full mouth that belongs more in a pre-Quake magazine than on someone who presumably wants to kill me. But there’s a slight twist to his features. His nose has clearly been broken and reset at least once. A scar cuts across his pale skin from the back of his jaw to a couple inches down his neck. They’re potent reminders of where we really are.Whenwe are.
I break away from his glare, only to see the blood blooming through the bandage on his hand. As the adrenaline ebbs away, what I did comes crashing in on me.
