"Base, this is Alpha Two. Come in, over." His voice comes through the thin tent, followed by the familiar static of the large transmitter that was set up to communicate with the mainland military base we flew from.
There's a few seconds of silence before his response does come and he quickly continues, switching to his native language. I carefully sneak along the outside of the tent to the open front, taking comfort in the fact that he is, also, alone. He's also farther from the fire where the rest of the men seem to be.
I clench my jaw and fire both of the dart guns into his neck once I stand directly behind him, leading him to cut whatever sentence he was in the middle of.
He starts to turn around but I get to him first as I discard my weapons. I plant my hand firmly over his mouth from behind while I wrap my other around his neck and pull back as hard as I can. He shouts into my hand as his own comes off of the button he pressed to be heard to try desperately to pull me off to call his men.
I shot him twice and, judging by the fact that I'm pressing myself against the darts, enough should get into him that he will die. That does, however, take longer than I would like. We fall to the ground when he steps back and I switch my hand from over his mouth to straight up, holding my forearm with my other hand and arching my own back in a bid to keep his neck constricted so he can't speak.
His nails dig into my arms as he weakens and I pull back harder, landing on top of him as I sharply whisper, "Maybe you should've thought about checking up on me. I got lonely, you know. Your men are brutes."
He tries to shout for another minute or so before he falls limp in my arms, unconscious from a lack of airflow. I hold him down for a while longer to make sure that he won't wake up when his breath is allowed, but he doesn't. He has a little longer to live, I guess.
I'm also bloody once again. He left deep scratches on my forearm, not to mention the bruises and otherwise battered state that doing that left me in. Now I have another body to my list. I stand up with a quiet pant and force myself to practically fall against the radio's table despite the pain, shakily grabbing the mic and pressing the button even as the other voice tries to get the soldier to respond.
I take a shaky breath and try to mimic my assistant's voice for, hopefully the last time, "This is Aaron Davis, the doctor's assistant. He's dead. I repeat, Dr. Moore is dead and rotting. He won't get up, he won't open his eyes. He hasn't in four days, and he smells like he's rotting. That snake... that snake bit him and he was just... gone. Don't ever let somebody step on here again. It kills just to kill. It doesn't even eat us. It's bigger than the plane. Leave us, don't tr—"
I cut myself off and let the button go, listening to the frantic response as I slide the automatic rifle off of my shoulder and fumble with the safety. Once I hear it click, I just fire. The kick knocks me back slightly but I hold my finger to the trigger, spreading the bullets along the entirety of the radio before I stop. The light is off and there's no voice. Good.
I turn around, pointing the gun at the soldier and, for good measure, press it against the back of his ribcage before letting loose until the chamber clicks. I've killed more people here than I have in forty-seven years, even if it's only been three. I think is this is what you would call overkill.
Oh, well. While I have the time and before his damn lackeys come and try everything to keep me here, let's make sure this radio is good and dead. I rip the mic off, severing the cord with adrenaline and brute strength as the radio falls off of the white table. I raise my leg up, now completely healed, and smash my bare heel against the plastic and metal.
I don't stop until more bullets load into my back, falling to my knees in exhaustion and pain, ignoring as my body lays on the mangled mess of the radio. I think I broke the bone in my heel. Maybe I should learn restraint while I'm floating in the ocean. With any luck, they genuinely will just leave us to die. I feel like the knowledge of my death will stop this whole game of research on this unknowable island. Who knows, maybe the government will try to cover up its existence. That'd be lovely.
Aska doesn't deserve this. I wonder if he's still alive.
They're shouting at me in words I don't understand, even if my ears could recover from the extremely loud gunshots I just forced myself to listen to. They still haven't stopped shooting, though I can feel quite a few of the bullets go all the way through both sides of my body.
After a while of them severing enough muscles that I can't move, they drag me back out of the tent and I feel a deep stabbing pain in my abdomen. I absently try to raise my head and find another machete lodged inside me, the blade piercing all the way through me.
Did they..? One man is still trying to drive it further down into the sand and I feel my body sink deeper with it.
They did. They are. They're pinning me to the ground with a fucking weapon. That's a new one. Lovely.
I can do, quite literally, nothing to resist. I did all I could, anyway, so I don't need to resist. With any luck, the plane won't come. With a little more luck, maybe they'll abandon me and drown in the water once they realize there is never going to be a rescue plane.
If not, then I'll just be tortured a bit more for lying and thrown back into a cell. I tried, either way. It doesn't particularly matter to me. I didn't get to destroy the tranquilizers, but I don't think that really matters. They're terrified of me, and I have all of the darts on me. I could hear it despite the ringing in my ears earlier. They won't touch me, they don't want anything to do with me.
I'm all alone, really.
YOU ARE READING
Forever Captive
General Fiction****** Disclaimer! This book contains depictions of violence, gore, vulgar language, and *checks notes* the grammar and words of a man who has a habit of writing on his poor computer at 2 in the morning. That being said, it does also contain lemon...
