Island Rush (Sample)

Chapter 7

We walked side by side through the tangle of nature. There was no breeze present to claim some of the heat. We were drowning in our own heat like before, which my shirt showed with sweat stains. It helped keep our minds on the objective: freshwater. I swear, we should have stumbled across the lake by now.

All we could do was continue walking and hope for the best. Of course, we could only go for so long until I noticed something while staring mindlessly at the ground. It made me raise a sweaty brow. "Where are your shoes?" I asked in amusement when I looked up to him.

I took note instantly of the change in his expression, of his own eyebrows as they lowered and his lips pressed into a line. Most of my attention went to the fact that he didn't look up to my eyes.

"I don't know," he mumbled.

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"I... I took them off, threw them in the woods."

I nearly stopped our sluggish pace at this point. Did I hear him correctly? "What?" I asked, closing my eyes for a moment and shaking my head.

He didn't look proud with what he said next. "I... I hated knowing that I had shoes, and you have none especially when I knew you were probably freezing last night too. So I got angry, I took them off, and I threw them somewhere," he said bluntly.

Was he serious? I wouldn't think that he would actually do something like that — especially for feeling guilty knowing I was cold. Was it fair that he had shoes, and I didn't? Hell no. But that didn't mean he had to do that. "You know, that was stupid. We could have at least used them for something else."

"I didn't think it through," he muttered, eyes still on the ground.

I just rolled my eyes. I didn't think he was that senseless, but maybe he was. I won't lie, though. Even if stupid, his gesture was honest quite sweet.

Silence fell between us, and our thoughts drifted elsewhere like how we were supposed to survive. That was always something to think about. I wasn't really sure of what we would eat other than the berries or seafood. At the moment, both were not accessible.

I should have been thinking of something other than food at the moment because my stomach started growling. This place was better than my home back in Craftridge, but at least there, I had food and water.

"It's my own fault," he whispered, interrupting my thoughts.

"What are you talking about?"

He shook his head and sighed. "I was stupid to think she would actually answer the phone."

I stopped walking instantly. He stopped a few feet ahead but didn't turn to face me. "Who did you try to call?"

He looked reluctant to answer, guilt all over him when he turned to me. "Jill," he finally said.

My breath left me in an instant. "Your fiancée?"

He nodded, giving me a sorry expression. "She usually never answers her phone anyway," I heard him mutter, as if ashamed as he should be. "I don't know why I would have thought this time would have been different. I guess I just needed to hear her voice." He looked away.

I was surprised he was being this forthcoming and that I didn't need to pry that out of him. My anger clouded that. "You know, now that you say that, I'm pissed off for more than what I would have expected. You doomed yourself and now, even though I don't want to go home, I have things to take care of."

True, I wanted to stay here. If I had the choice like I said, I would stay here, but a subconscious promise to my mom swam in my heart. It would be like I was running away from my problems if I had a chance to go home, and I didn't take it. I knew I had no future there, but I needed to set things right if I could. I needed to reveal that my father was involved with her murder. Even though that couldn't happen for the possibility that I would be killed, I owed it to her someday.