Several gunshots fired. Tom opened his eyes, and was surprised to find Maria standing there. He just sat there for a split second as the things moved from him to her, before grabbing his axe and swinging. One went down. Two. Five. Nine. They were beginning to drop like flies. Until the ammo in the gun ran out.
"Here!" Tom shouted and threw the last clip to her. She caught it and slapped in in the gun with a soft click. Then they kept dropping, until all of them were dead.
Tom counted twenty-two bodies. Maria slipped the clip out of her gun, and a worried look came over her face. Then she tried to hide it and slid the magazine back into the gun.
"What is it?" Tom asked with concern. Maria frowned. "There are only three bullets left."
Tom hit his thigh harder than necessary, and winced.
"Is your stomach okay?" Maria asked. "I think so, but my cheek isn't" The cut was deep, and Tom knew that if Maria looked close enough she would see the inside of his mouth. It was still bleeding, and even though it had slowed, it wasn't by much. He grabbed a few leaves and shoved them on his cheek.
"Let's go back." Maria said.
"We can't." Tom replied, looking from the bloody bodies that were scattered everywhere. He bit his lip as bile rose in his throat, threatening to take away the little food he had in his stomach.
"Why?" She cried.
"We don't have any food. I don't plan on dying because of some stupid scratch on my cheek!"
Maria looked at him with an aggravated expression on her face. "Fine. But if one of those things gets you, I'm not coming." She threw him the gun and stormed off. Tom caught it.
"What's wrong with her?" Tom thought.
He walked in the opposite direction of Maria. "If she wants to starve to death, she can be my guest, but I plan on seeing my wife again."
YOU ARE READING
Flight 203
ActionThomas Watkins had an everyday life. He had a good paying job, and a loving wife. Everything was great. Until his plane to China crashed on a deserted island. Or so he thought...
