Kill Me Now (Book 1)(Editing)

Chapter 18: Snakebite

                                           <<<[Chapter 18]>>>

(Recap)

I embarrassedly avoid looking at Mitch but I can tell his gaze is still boring into my face. My heart starts beating wildly and I nervously shift my crutches slightly.

            “You...um...thanks for the crutches,” I murmur as I move as fast as the sticks will let me across the sand looking for anywhere to hide from Mitch. Unfortunately this beach just had to only have flimsy palm trees.

            “You're welcome tiger,” Mitch calls at my disappearing back.

§§§§§§§§§§

            I finally settle near the foliage on a part of the beach I’ve never been on before. Mitch is nowhere in sight, thank goodness. I just need to be alone and fix my scrambled thoughts. I really think I’m sick. Why do I always feel so fluttery and stupid when Mitch looks at me like that? I think I have a cold or something, or maybe my messed up leg is messing with my head.

            I absently play with the frayed edges of my pant leg and tentatively bite my lip. I need some new clothes, badly. My t-shirt is gone and so are half of my pants. But where could I find anything? A breeze flows across the beach making the leaves behind me wave wildly. I stare at some dancing reeds and narrow my eyes in concentration.

            What is that thing they make in Hawaii, a hula skirt? Yeah, I think that’s what it is. I quickly grab up my crutches and make my way over to the reeds. These are okay for a grass skirt, I’d just need several of them. I shakily lower myself to the ground and start ripping tons of them off the stalks. When I have enough I grab a piece of nearby twine and start knotting the reeds around it. You are a genius Kate, I think as I work quickly. Hopefully I’ll have this thing done by sunset.

§§§§§§§§§§

            About five hours later, with aching hands, I triumphantly hold up my masterpiece.

            “Now this is what I call haute couture,” I declare proudly as I speak in a mock French accent. I hurriedly rip off my torn up jeans and toss them aside. Maybe I should burn them, or make a mini bag. Shrugging at my ideas I slip into my grass skirt and tie the piece of twine to hold it up. I stand up using my crutches and look down at my creation. No holes or gaps to expose underwear, whew. Smiling proudly I settle back down in the sand and smooth down my skirt.

            As I sit and think my thoughts begin to float to Mitch’s bossy behavior. Who is he to make me stay at his camp and force me to accept his help? I can do just fine on my own, and yes, maybe I can’t build a hut or decipher between itchweed and a normal bush. But I’m not stupid. I’ve lived this long and I’m fine.

            The thought about going back to Mitch’s camp makes me cringe and I make the decision to avoid it at all costs. Yes, even if it means risking the wrath of the brute. With that in mind I stand up with the help of my crutches and slip away into the jungle behind me.

§§§§§§§§§§

            I struggle through the underbrush with a determined attitude. Kate Harrison isn’t a weakling, she can do this. Sweat flows down my skin freely and I’m completely soaked. Walking through this mess is hard enough with two working legs, now the trouble is doubled with the crutches. As I maneuver around a fallen branch my crutch accidently wobbles and I go sprawling on the ground. Thankfully I don’t hurt myself further, well nothing but my pride.