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Grinding my teeth, I give a short nod, not meeting Skyler’s gaze.
I gesture toward the woods and start heading for a small break in the trees.
“W-wait, aren’t we supposed to—”
I whirl around, leveling Skyler with a hard stare.
His eyes widen and he gulps.
Mouth tightening, I wait for him to try and object once more, but he just dips his head, eyes darting anywhere but at me.
“Let’s go,” I grit out, stomping off into the jungle. “The sooner we get in there, the sooner we get out.”
And the sooner I get to be alone in my misery again…
CHAPTERNINE
SKYLER
We’re lost.
We have to be.
I’m pretty sure I just saw that same tree with the same marking a little while back. But then again, everything looks the same out here. It’s hard to believe we’re still on the island. This far in, it’s all jungle.
It’s been a long time since I heard the lapping of waves.
It’s hot and muggy. I’m soaked with sweat. But that might have everything to do with the fact I have to all but jog to keep up with Nolan, and I’m clearly more out of shape than I thought.
I can’t even focus too much on that nagging curl of panic in the back of my head—I’m too busy trying to avoid tripping over roots in my haste, becausesomeonehad to take us off-trail.
It’s not the first time I’ve been forced on some wilderness excursion, but that was several years ago, in the mountains of Montana, as part of some militaristic boot camp my parents thought was a good idea.
“It’ll toughen you up,”Father had insisted.“Teach you discipline. Perseverance. You’ll be a better man for it.”
It was snowing, frigid, and I had someone screaming at me the whole time.
I was fifteen.
And to think, back then, I thought that was as bad as things could get…
On the plus side, it’s at least quiet this time around, save for my quick, harsh pants, the brushing of leaves, and a low barely-there buzzing coming from the trees.
If there are birds—other than the seagulls that stick to the beaches, that is—they’re silent.
I’m surprised, honestly, that there isn’t more wildlife, especially this far into the jungle.
But nope, just mosquitos and those little flying gnat things that hover around my face.
I can’t decide which is worse: freezing my ass off or getting eaten alive.
But it’s not Canaan…so that’s something.
I feel another prick in my arm and I slap it, squashing the little beast. I grimace. At this rate, I’m going to be a giant, walking, itchy red welt by the time we finally get out of here. The bugs didn’t seem to bother us too much when we kept to the trail, but the deeper into the vegetation Nolan leads us, the worse it seems to be.
Glaring at his back, I grumble, “Are you sure you know where you’re going?” I don’t even bother masking my crankiness. This sucks.
Again, he ignores me. Not even a grunt of acknowledgement this time.
