Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty Nine
Landon
We head east in the direction of our key. Technically, this route looks like it may be a little longer than some of the other, more direct paths, but the terrain also looks flatter. I mean, it’s not like the map they gave us came highlighted with elevations and obstacles.
I glance up at the sky. The sun is beginning to set, but we definitely have a few more hours of sunlight left.
We’ve been going for five or six hours, honestly maybe more.
I’ve lost track. I know, logically, we’ll have to find somewhere to make camp for the night, but I want to push until our bodies can’t take any more.
Savannah and Noah got a head start on us, and it’s anyone’s guess where they could be. Courtney and I have a few advantages working for us, though. One, Savannah is prissy and won’t fare well in the wilderness overnight. Two, we’re both too fucking stubborn to do anything but win.
We both decided on a light jog to conserve energy while covering as much distance as possible. Since we have to cross the entire island, it’s not physically possible for us to make it to the key in one shot, but that doesn’t mean we can’t cover as much ground as possible in this first stage.
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 or valley, 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 over the forest floor. Finally, she races back over with a plain black T-shirt and presses the material to my raw flesh.
The pain is so overwhelming, my vision dims, and I fear I’m about to pass out.
“What else can I do?” she asks, her voice soft and emotional.
I shake my head tersely. “Nothing. You’re doing everything, baby. Thank you.”
She nods and looks up at the sky. “We should find somewhere to sleep. You’re done for the day,” Courtney says, looking around now, assessing our surroundings.
I shake my head and attempt to sit up. “We should keep going, we still have another hour or so of sunlight.”
She levels me with a look that screams I must be joking, and for once, I concede because I can’t fathom attempting to walk right now.
I point to where the rock face of a mountain overhangs the path just up ahead, and she turns to look at it. “There. It’s close. If it rains, we’ll be decently covered and we won’t lose our path.”
Courtney nods. “Sounds good. I kinda made us at home here anyway,” she says, looking around at our scattered supplies.
I chuckle, then wince as it shakes my body.
She steps carefully towards the overhang, her gaze scouring the ground.
“What are you looking for?” I ask.
“More traps or anything else that could seriously ruin either of our days.”
“Good call. I found one over here,” I say sarcastically, jabbing my thumb at the bloodied trap beside my leg.
Courtney scoffs. “Yeah, thanks for the heads-up. You could have just pointed it out. You didn’t need to go all dramatic for attention and sacrifice yourself.”
A small smirk pulls at my face as she walks back to me. When she steps behind me and slips her arms under mine, I’m confused at first. “What are you doing?”
“Dragging you. You’re way too heavy for me to carry, and you can’t walk, or at least you shouldn’t until you absolutely have to.”
She pulls on my body, and it takes her a moment or two before I move. Soon, she has momentum, though, and she’s able to drag me all the way over to our temporary home for the night.
“Phew. After that workout, I think it’s safe to say I don’t have to go to the gym for, what, three, four weeks at least?” she pants.
“If we make it out of this, you don’t have to go for the rest of your life.”
“We will. There is no if. We will not lose this fucking challenge,” she says with a confident nod.
I mirror it and give her an encouraging smile as she begins gathering up all our materials and stuffing them back into our bags. I wish I shared her confidence. Twenty minutes ago, I did. Now, things have changed. I’m dead weight, and this challenge just got a whole lot fucking harder.