The Focus Effect

Twenty-seven

Once JD is satisfied that we're far enough away from Greenwood and his men, we resume an easterly direction. We hear the helicopter fly over a couple more times before it fades into the distance and we hear it no more.

Over the next four hours we push as hard as we can. The rain lets up a few times, but mostly it pours down. We use the machetes when we must and refrain from using them when the vegetation isn't so thick. Sometimes we cut a path off in the wrong direction then backtrack and continue on.

"Okay," JD finally says. "I need to eat something." He takes a seat on a moss covered log. "Let's just see what we got from our friends here, shall we?" he grins, looking rather pleased with himself.

It makes me feel good to see him in a lighthearted mood. "I'm guessing their gear doesn't have any tracking devices in it or we'd have had visitors by now," I point out. I sit down beside him, letting the weight of my pack rest on the tree.

"It never even crossed my mind," JD admits. "But, yes, I don't think we'd have made it this far," he agrees. He removes the backpack from his chest and sets it on the ground to dig through it and pulls out three brown plastic pouches. "Jackpot," he smiles. "MREs."

I raise an eyebrow. "Military rations," I state, unsure how I might know such a thing.

"Military rations," he agrees.

It turns out that there are three meals in each of the backpacks. JD was smart to have taken the extra pack; he's got 9 MREs out of his quick thinking. He also thinks he can stretch the food out for five days, maybe longer, if need be.

"Do you think we'll be out here that long?" I ask.

"Doctor Sue seemed to think it would take at least a week to walk out of here and hit the nearest road. That's if everything goes smooth," he adds. "So far, we're not off to a very good start," he grins.

"Ha, I agree." In the silence that follows, I suddenly feel inspired. "JD. If you want to talk about Mara, I'm a good listener. I mean, I wouldn't want you to think that you couldn't, that is...if you wanted to," I fumble.

He slowly nods. "You're a good person, Hannah." He swallows and gives me a bit of a smile. "I wish--" But he doesn't finish.

"What?" I push him a little, nudging him with my shoulder.

"I don't know," he slowly shakes his head back and forth. "I just have a lot of regrets, I guess. Things I should have done different."

"I screwed up plenty since coming here and have my own regrets. Deep down inside I feel I've done the best with what I've had. Just let it go." This seems to be my answer to everything nowadays.

JD takes a deep breath. "You're right. I just...I just don't know if I can say I've done the best with what I've had."

"Well," I pat him on the leg. "You've been here longer than most people, which means Kingshire's had more time to mess with your head. Literally," I add, realizing my pun. "I think you should give yourself a break."

"I'll try," he says, the corners of his mouth lifting into a half smile. "Do you know how to shoot that thing?" he nods at the rifle I've been carrying.

"Nope. Show me?"

"Absolutely."

Over the next five minutes, JD goes over the weapon, naming the different parts. He shows me where the safety is and how to switch the weapon between single shot, burst (which fires three rounds of bullets when you pull the trigger once) and automatic, which fires continuously. He shows me how to change the ammo magazines and how to clear the weapon if it jams. It takes him a matter of seconds to disassemble the weapon and put it back together. "You should take it apart and clean it after firing it," he says. "And now the shooting. We're not really going to shoot," he smiles.