Night Island

The Run

My heart pounds in my chest a mile a minute. All I hear is the the rhythmic thumping overwhelmed by the screeching chatter of the things behind us. The chainsaw in my hands grows increasing heavy, but I grip it tightly. In front of me is Beb taking the lead cut through vines and leaves with his sword as he runs. Following is Bob, then Anon clutching her spear with her bloody hands. Behind me is Bismarck. He fires blindly behind him while he runs, in a vain attempt to slow whatever it is down.

My legs scream in pain, it feels like I've been running for an eternity. Sweat pours down my face. My lungs feel tight. I'm gasping for a breath I can't seem to catch. I keep running.

"We need to split up!" Bismarck yells, "It might be our only chance! Once you shake them, head back to the camp!"

As soon as the words escaped his lips, Bismarck bolted to the right. Running past me in a diagonal direction. Bob broke apart from the group also, choosing to run diagonally left. Anon shifted to the right, disappearing from my view. Only Beb and I were left running straight. He looked behind.

"Hurry up and get out of here! I'll keep them on my tail. I'll meet you back at the camp," he said sprinting even faster. I run to the left. In seconds I'm out of the line of fire, and have lost sight of Beb. The voices grow louder and louder, and for a second I think they're following me. I panic, and run faster despite my legs almost giving out. My foot hits something. My ankle twists and I'm falling to the ground. I lose the grip on my chainsaw and it crashes a few feet away from me. Pain shoots through my ankle. I'm lying on the ground panting. Covering my head, and cowering away from the noise.

But the noise doesn't get closer. It's moving away now. Getting more distant as the seconds go by, until it's just a murmur. I think of Beb. Those Things must be chasing him now. Would he be able to outrun them? He said he used to be a runner, so he might be alright. Maybe.

The pain in my left ankle shakes me out of my thoughts. I kick off my shoe with the other foot, and look down to see a bruise peeking out from my sock and looking a little swollen. Only a sprain. I shake my backpack off and roll into a sitting position, and take of my sock the bruise doesn't look too bad, so luckily it's only a mild sprain. I grab the first aid kit out of my pack and set it on the ground. I, of course, don't have any ice, so I grab gauze and some elastic bandages and set them aside. After closing up the kit and storing it away I set to work on my ankle. I take the gauze and place it on each joint, then wrap the elastic bandages around it tight.

I get up into a crawling position, putting all my weight on my hands and right foot. Then push off, balancing on just the one foot. I set my left foot to the ground gentle at first, then add a little more weight, until I bear weight on it normally. It hurts like hell, but it's manageable. I replace my sock and shoe, and pick up my bag, slinging it over my shoulders. Pickinging up my chainsaw throws me off balance for a second, but I right myself before I stumble to the ground again.

I think the best course of action for me is to get back to camp. The Things aren't chasing me, so I should be safe to return. However, I can't remember the direction camp is. I look around for any landmark that could show me the way, but all I see are the same looking trees. It's useless to just stand here, looking around like an idiot, so I pick a direction and hope for the best. I'm limping around the jungle, staying as quiet as possible, in case the Things decide to come back. My chainsaw feels heavy in my hand, so I lift it to my shoulder. Much easier, and I probably look a lot more badass, so bonus.

The jungle is starting to look a lot darker. The once glowing spots dotting the trees, making the forest glow yellow, are gone now. The trees look bluish-grey and dull. I have about two hours before I'm unable to see at all, so I need to set up a quick place to sleep. I look for a place, where I can keep cover, and hide from any preying eyes. I spot a large tree after a few more minutes of searching. The roots are huge and stand out of the ground about a foot high, creating a small curved wall. I lay my bag at the base of the tree between the roots and my chainsaw next to it. The jungle's getting darker. I pull large wide leaves from low hanging branches and set them between the roots, creating a leafy mat. The orange paint of my chainsaw practically glows in the dusk, so I cover that with leaves. I lay on my mat, as the last of the light fades away.