Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 132491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
I dip my chin in agreement. It’s all I can do to stand upright, and from the shakiness in my legs, I know I won’t be able to do that for long.
I focus on slow, deep breathing as Pax unshoulders his military green backpack and takes a beat-up stainless canteen from it.
Must. Stay. Conscious. If I pass out, I won’t know where to go when I escape my new prison.
“Drink as much as you want,” he says as he unscrews the cap, removes it and passes the canteen to me. “We have a well in camp.”
A well. A weight lifts from my shoulders as I tip the canteen up to my mouth. I was worried about finding safe water to drink here, especially when I’m already in desperate need of it. Maybe I’ll be able to find a way to take some with me when I go.
The water is a soothing balm on my aching throat. Though I know I should drink slowly to avoid getting sick, I can’t help myself. I finish the entire canteen, out of breath when I pass it back to him.
“Thanks.”
He nods, packs the canteen and reshoulders his bag.
“Hey, not sure if you caught it, but I’m Pax.” He extends a hand to me, his playful tone telling me that he knows I got it and he wants to know my name.
I hesitate before answering. “I’m Briar. And who shakes hands anymore?”
People don’t even get within twenty feet of others unless they know them well or have no choice. And then we’re all wary. The closer you get to someone, the more opportunity you’re giving them to rob you, stab you, or give you a virus that could kill you.
“Call me old-fashioned.” He shrugs and drops his hand.
I don’t object this time as he picks me up. My stomach is swirling, the water already threatening to come back up.
“How do you have a well?” I ask as he follows a narrow path through the jungle.
“It’s part of our camp. You’ll see. We’ve got a good setup. We take care of each other.”
I hold in my retort. No one takes care of anyone unless it benefits them. People used to do that, before the virus. But now it’s kill or be killed. Or sometimes, kill and be killed anyway.
He turns slightly, avoiding a tree branch that’s growing over the path at shoulder level.
The jungle is dense with trees stretching so high I can’t see the sky. Their branches form a tight canopy, only slivers of light making it through. Vines encircle thick tree trunks and branches, brightly colored flowers the only contrast to the thousands of shades of green here.
A primal howl cuts through the exuberant cawing and singing of birds, making me snap my head upright and scan the thick jungle around us.
“That’s a wolf.” I pinch my brows together, listening as the keening howl repeats.
“Yep.”
“That’s...” I shake my head, confused. “Wolves don’t live in jungles. The environment is too hot for them.”
Pax’s lips tilt up in a grin. “This place is full of surprises.”
A wolf in a jungle isn’t a surprise. It’s a scientific impossibility. Unless...
“Someone brought the wolf here.”
He shrugs. “Wasn’t me.”
My heart races with fear of what else might have been brought to this island. Whitman exiles people here for the crimes he considers the greatest offenses to his new world order. Speaking out against his government. Refusal to register DNA in his database. Any form of resistance to his laws. Or in my case, using birth control because I refuse to be bred against my will like an animal.
Now you get to play a little game. The guard’s words ring in my ears as I realize what sort of twisted, cruel game he must have been talking about.
I’m going to be hunted on this island. Whitman’s troops have seeded it with predators, human and animal. They’re probably watching it play out with buckets of popcorn in their laps, cameras hidden all over to feed it to them in real time.
We’re approaching a tall rectangular archway. The wooden sign at the top of the arch has the words Rising Tide burned into it in neat black letters.
“This is your camp?”
“It’s our camp.” He says it like I had any say in coming here. “You’re a Tider now.”
I don’t argue, because the more compliant I pretend to be, the better my chances of getting out of here.
Massive green leaves spread out on the ground grab my attention. They’re close to three feet wide, some of them starting to brown at the edges. I lean forward, trying to get a better look.
“Is that...Alocasia?”
I must be wrong. There’s no way the giant elephant ear leaves scattered here are Alocasia.
“What, the leaves? No clue. They grow like crazy and we use them to keep the ground from getting muddy in some places. Just don’t pick them up or walk on them with bare feet, because—”