Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
Courtney
Istayed up all night tending to the fire.
Landon walked me through how to build it, and thankfully, one of the backpacks had a lighter in it, so that made the whole thing a little easier.
It got surprisingly cold once the sun set, and I was too scared of the fire going out to sleep and that Landon wouldn’t wake up if I fell asleep.
I’m not a nurse or anything—I work the front desk at a hospital part-time.
I know enough, though, that if we don’t get something to sterilize his leg, he’s likely to pick up a seriously nasty infection out here.
Bright side, we’re over halfway to where our key is marked on the map.
Dark side, with a forest no doubt filled with booby traps and two selfish psychos who are ready to kill us to win, we might not make it to the key anyway.
So, really, who cares about a little infection in the grand scheme of things?
Once the sun begins to rise, I turn to wake Landon.
I can’t help but stare at him for a moment.
I want nothing more than to be off this godforsaken island, but I can’t regret meeting him.
My entire life, I’ve only been focused on Lily.
There was never room for anyone else. With him, though… I see more for all of us.
Landon must feel my gaze because he blinks up at me blearily as he tries to gain his bearings.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“Nothing. The sun is up. We should get moving,” I say and pull the fleece blanket off us, packing it back into the backpack. That was like a holy-grail item when I found it.
Landon pushes himself to sit up, wincing when he has to move his leg to do so.
“How are you doing?” I ask.
“I’m alright. I’ve faced worse than this.”
I frown. “You have?”
“No, but I sound less like a pussy when I say that.”
A surprised laugh escapes me as I grab one of the bottles of water we have left and a protein bar, then offer it to him.
“You literally almost got your leg chopped in two. Definitely doesn’t make you a pussy.”
Landon takes a small sip of the water and the tiniest bite of the protein bar before handing both to me. “Now you.”
I smile and shake my head. “I already ate this morning. I’m good,” I lie.
Landon stares at me for several seconds. “You’re still a shit liar, babygirl. Now eat, one for you, one for me.”
Sometimes I absolutely hate how well this man seems to know me.
I snatch the bar from him, taking a small bite before handing it back to him, then do the same with a tiny sip of water. Both of us being too damn stubborn, we do this little song and dance for a while until both are gone.
“Thank you,” Landon says sincerely.
“You don’t have to thank me, you would have done the same for me. And you probably wouldn’t have complained as much,” I joke.
Landon smiles and reaches for the nape of my neck so he can pull me towards him. Our lips brush in a soft, tentative kiss before he rests his forehead against mine.
“I love you, so much.”
I smile. “I love you too.”
Landon lets out a long exhale before releasing his hold on me. “Alright, let’s see how bad it is.”
There’s a heavy amount of bruising and some yellowing on the tissue.
He laughs bitterly. “Well, that doesn’t look good.”
“Can you stand?” I ask.
“Fucking hope so,” he says as I get to my feet, offering my hands to help him up.
He takes them, holding on to me tight as he does everything he can to stay off his leg. His face strains, and when he sets his left foot down, that strain increases.
“Landon,” I say, shaking my head.
“I’m good,” he says, though I’m not sure who he’s trying to convince, me or him.
I stare at him, waiting for him to give up this ridiculousness but he begins hobbling, one step at a time.
“Come on, you better keep up, Court,” he calls back as he grabs one of the bags and slings it over his shoulder.
I grab the other and narrow my eyes as I follow him. “Just because I love you doesn’t mean I won’t fucking kill you.”
We’re able to make a lot better headway than I expected.
Once we got going, Landon began limping at a decent pace.
It’s by no means a normal pace—he’s in debilitating pain, after all, but we’re making progress.
I have no way to gauge how far out we actually are, though.
The map is extremely rudimentary, but there are a few small landmarks that suggest we’re closing in on the location. Maybe a few miles away?
I trace a path on the map with my finger and spot a little symbol up to our right. Frowning, I look all over the map to see if there’s a guide to the symbols before finding one on the back.
I stop in my tracks. “Landon, look.”
He hobbles over to me, leaning over to peer at the guide.
“Look at this symbol. What is that?” I ask.
“It looks like weapons,” he says, and I flip the map back over to show him where they are in relation to us.
Landon moves in front of me, heading in that direction.
“Be careful,” I say, walking steadily behind him.
He nods, staying quiet, his head moving like it’s on a swivel.
Once we reach a little clearing, I spot a large wooden crate.
“What if it’s a trap?” I ask hesitantly.
Landon pauses for a moment before carefully looking around it.
“I don’t think so,” he says before his hands go to the lid.
He strains for a moment, and I move to the other side, helping him pull it open. When the lid breaks free, my eyes widen as I look inside it. Knives, hatchets, a bow, arrows, rope, and…
“Is that a hunting spear?” I ask.
Landon picks it up and inspects it. “Looks like it. Grab all we can carry,” he says, then sets the spear to the side.
“Why?” I ask.
He looks at me as if to assess whether I’m kidding. “Have you forgotten who’s out there? Savannah didn’t hesitate to take Luna and Shane down, and they couldn’t be any more motivated to do the same to us should they need to.”
I shake my head. “They’re probably on the other side of the island. Their key is nowhere near here.”
“And, like you said, they’re playing dirty. We don’t know where their heads are at or what their plan is. It’s better to have them and not need them,” Landon says, pocketing two knives, then slipping a hatchet into his backpack.
I frown and do as he says, and once we’re outfitted for a fucking war, we continue down our path.
When we round a curve in the trail, I pause. In front of us, there’s an old rope bridge. The wooden panels we’re expected to walk on look like they’re from the early twentieth century, and it’s an immediate no fucking thank you for me.
I scan our surroundings to see if there’s another way around this huge ravine. It’s not even on the map. Of course it isn’t, right? What would be the fun in that?
Landon’s eyes meet mine, and I hate the look in them.
“No. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” I say, shaking my head.
“Does it look like there’s another way?” he asks.
I huff a short breath. “No, but… Fuck. Every time there are heights involved on this goddamn island, someone dies. Every time.”
“I know. Which is why I’m going to go first.”
My eyes bug out of my head. “What, so you can die first? How noble of you.”
He rolls his eyes like I’m being a pain in the ass, and maybe I am, but goddamnit.
I fucking hate heights, and this ravine looks to be well over five hundred feet.
I swear, if anyone ever makes fun of me for being afraid of heights again, I’ll punch them in the face because I have enough evidence that nothing good comes from them. Ever.
“Just keep your eyes forward. Don’t look down. When I tell you, start crossing the bridge and take slow, even steps.”
My heart is hammering inside my chest, but I do my best to hide it as I nod. Fine.
Landon holds my cheeks in his hands, crushing his lips to mine like he may never get another chance to do so. Which, again, really doesn’t settle my nerves at all.
When we break apart, he gives me an encouraging nod, then turns to the bridge. He grips the rope handrail, his steps as careful as possible given his injured leg.
My pulse rises and falls with every step he takes, the tips of my fingers cold to the touch as nerves race through my body.
Once he’s about halfway across, he nods. “It’s actually sturdier than I expected. Let me cross just in case. I don’t want the extra weight to cause any strain.”
“What did you just say about my weight?” I call back.
A sad attempt at a joke, but it temporarily distracts me, so I’m not sorry.
“Jesus Christ, Courtney,” Landon huffs.
A pitiful laugh slips out of me as I watch him take every step so cautiously. I don’t think I take a full breath until he reaches the other side and steps fully off the bridge.
Oh, thank God.
Landon turns to face me, his face a little paler than before. “Piece of cake.”
I scoff at the blatant lie.
Doing exactly as he did, I hold on to the rope with all my might, taking my first step on the bridge. My entire body tenses as it sways, and I brace for… I don’t know, death? When nothing happens, I peek my eyes open to see Landon watching me carefully.
“You’re doing great, baby. Keep moving. Light footsteps.”
Nodding my understanding, I do as he says, treading lightly against each wooden plank. I can feel beneath my sneakers that certain planks are more rotten than others. One even creaks beneath my toes, and it almost sends me into a full spiral.
“You’re almost there,” Landon calls as a gust of wind blows out of nowhere, sending the bridge swaying several feet to the left and right—back and forth, back and forth.
I begin screaming, the shrill sound hurting my own ears, but I can’t stop. “Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!”
“It’s okay. You’re okay. It’ll stop soon. Stop moving!” Landon shouts.
“I can’t!”
“Do something to help you relax!” he calls out.
“Like what?” I snarl.
“Fuck, I don’t know. Sing?”
Sing? Sing what?