Page 111 of The Hunter's Empire

I glance toward the small pile of supplies. The unopened first-aid kit sits beside the emergency blankets, while the flare gun remains tucked safely underneath them. Nearby, the two bottles we refilled at the stream before spending the rest of yesterday dealing with armed men rest against the cave wall. It isn't much.

Across from me, Zora notices where my attention lingers.

"We're running out." It isn't a question.

I nod slowly. "Faster than I expected."

She follows my gaze to the supplies before letting out a quiet breath. "Then we need to stop reacting to them and start doing something."

I study the map I'd sketched in the dirt over the last two days, marking every patrol route we'd observed and every area we'd been forced to avoid. The men hunting us have become more disciplined. They no longer wander through the jungle hoping to stumble across us. They've divided the island into sectors, moving in coordinated teams that leave us fewer and fewer places to disappear.

"They're tightening the net." I say, dragging a finger across the rough drawing. "Yesterday they searched the eastern ridge. This morning they came through here." I tapped another section before looking up at her. "By tomorrow they'll start overlapping their patrols."

"And eventually they'll find us."

"They only have to get lucky once."

Silence settles between us. I hate admitting it, but we're losing. Not because they're better. Because there are simply too many of them.

I rub a hand across my jaw before looking back toward the flare gun lying beside the medical kit.

"There is one option."

Zora follows my gaze almost immediately. "The flare?"

I nod. "It was meant for rescue."

"It was." She agrees, picking it up and turning it over in her hands. "If we fire it, a rescue team could see it."

I meet her eyes. "So could the people hunting us."

She goes quiet for a moment, her gaze dropping back to the flare gun.

"They'll know exactly where we are. They'll know where to come looking." She lowers the gun onto the ground with a frustrated sigh. "So the flare could save us..."

"...or get us killed." I finish.

"We're trapped."

"No." I shake my head. "We're forced to gamble."

Neither of us says anything for a while. The jungle around us seems unnaturally quiet, as though the island itself is waiting to hear our decision.

Finally, Zora exhales. "If we don't fire it, we eventually run out of water."

"Yes."

"If we do fire it, they'll come after us."

"Immediately."

She pinches the bridge of her nose. "I hate plans where every option ends with someone trying to kill us."

A faint smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. "I've had worse."

She gives me a look. "I somehow believe that."

I crouch beside the map again, smoothing the dirt with my palm before drawing a rough outline of the cliffs overlooking the ocean.