Spy School: Framed for Murder (DISCONTINUED)

Chapter Twelve: Back to Georgetown

Cyrus was right. It took a few days before the police gave up the search.

By then, we were all disheveled and hungry and thirsty and exhausted, barely able to get up and walk a few minutes before collapsing. Thankfully, there were small streams and creeks that we could drink from to slake our thirst, but water didn't have the ability to satisfy our hunger or give us the energy to move around.

So, we spent a lot of time sleeping.

There was always one person that would stay up and keep watch. Perhaps because I was incompetent, I was never that person, but I guess that worked out in my favor because I could hardly stay awake.

When we confirmed that the police had given up their search, I felt a burst of energy crackle somewhere inside me—not because I was motivated to continue with our quest, but because I'd finally be able to eat some food.

But we had no idea where we were and how to get off the island.

Even Erica seemed confused, which was extremely unusual for her.

I forced my brain to think. We'd jumped off the bridge and swam to shore; if we were looking at the island from a map perspective, we'd be at the south-ish end of the island. Then, while walking through the forest to avoid being caught by police...

... That was where I was lost.

"We should go that way," Erica said after a moment of thinking, pointing her arm in an angled direction to her left. "That should lead us to the Theodore Roosevelt Island Pedestrain Bridge, where we can get off."

"Won't that lead us to Virginia?" I asked.

"Yes," she admitted, "but if we're going to find food, we need to get off this place first. We also can't exactly swim back to D.C., either."

"How do you know?" I asked.

"Know what?"

"Know which direction to go?"

Cyrus sighed in exasperation.

Erica gave me a disapproving look. "Have you not been paying attention to the direction of the sunrise and sunset?"

I shifted sheepishly. "No?" I squeaked, more terrified of Cyrus' intense gaze than Erica's.

"Whatever." Erica rose to her feet. "Let's go."

Because of our lack of energy, travel took a long time—and when I say a long time, I mean a long time. Not only that, but I had an injury in my thigh that seemed to be hurting more by the hour.

Traveling late into the night, we collapsed near a stream and quenched our thirst. Everyone soon settled down and fell asleep. If I hadn't been so pained by my thigh and my hunger, I would've done the same.

But that wasn't the case.

I shifted around all night, trying to get comfortable and ease the pain, but it was always there, poking at me and preventing me from falling asleep.

"What are you doing?" A whisper pierced through the silence.

I froze and swiveled my head in the direction Erica's voice had come from. "What?"

"Quit moving around!"

Apparently, she hadn't fallen asleep yet.

Ceasing my movement, I leaned back against the trunk of the tree I'd collapsed nearby, squeezing my eyes shut and trying to ignore the pain.

It didn't work.

I heard a shifting noise and suddely felt a warm hand settle near my neck.

I shivered—and not because of the cold. "What are you doing?"