Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 80431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
He yelled as loud as he could and fired two rounds in the air that reverberated like claps of thunder. It sent not only their hunter scurrying away from them but the monkeys, iguanas, and all the nearby birds as well.
The shots were a stark and jarring intrusion into an otherwise serene world that left a lingering echo.
As their predator bolted into the depths of the forest, it let out a vengeful roar as if it were pissed that, as of now, he was no longer the undisputed king of his realm.
Oakley’s chest deflated as he released a long-held breath at the same time Sawyer dropped to his ass.
“Fuckin’ hell, man.”
“I know,” Oakley answered. “That was my fault. I know better.”
“Damn straight you should. Stop trying to seduce me, Indiana Jones, and just get us the fuck outta here alive, preferably with none of my limbs chewed off.”
Oakley frowned and turned in surprise ready to give Sawyer a piece of his mind until he saw his teasing smile.
“Are your drawers still clean, or do you need a minute?”
Sawyer’s chuckle was choppy while he was still trying to catch his breath from the near-death experience.
“I think I’m good,” he answered, flipping him off.
“Good. Now get off that ground before ants cover you.”
Oakley held out his hand and helped his partner up, then gave him back his weapon.
Hopefully, I won’t need that anymore, but damn, I’m glad we had it.
Sawyer got back on his boots, brushing off anything that may have taken interest during the couple of minutes he was down there.
With another quick look at his compass to ensure they were still on the right heading, Oakley pulled out his knife and returned to slicing vines out of their path.
“We’ve only got two hours until dusk. It’s time to start looking for another place to sleep…and rest.”
He was sure they’d walked at least ten miles. If the terrain hadn’t been so rough, they probably could’ve done fifteen.
Needless to say, his thighs were burning and he was thirsty and starving.
The skies began to darken to a hazy, indigo-gray, and Oakley was beginning to worry about adequate shelter and if they would have to eat frog legs or one of the many tarantulas he’d seen on their trek.
Sawyer’s breathing was labored, his steps slowing every hundred or so yards.
Then he heard it.
Oakley stopped so abruptly that Sawyer stumbled into him, clutching his shoulder so he didn’t fall.
“What, what is it?”
“Shhh,” Oakley ordered.
“Oh fuck, not another carnivore.”
“Sawyer, shut the hell up.”
He’d been right. To his left was the faint flow of rushing water.
“Oh, thank god.”
He continued to follow the sound until they came to a small stream covered with boulders that created a shallow waterfall.
Nothing had ever looked more glorious.
Chief Styles Sawyer
Sawyer hauled ass toward the clear running water, hollering over his shoulder. “This is drinkable, right? It’s not poison?”
The sound of Oakley’s light laughter mingling with the gentle gurgle of the stream was all the affirmation he needed.
The oppressive weight of extreme thirst had been bearing down on him from the moment Oakley had pulled him out of the river. His tongue felt like sandpaper, and his throat ached as if it’d been scraped by barbed wire.
Without checking around to see if anything dangerous was also partaking—he didn’t give a shit—he fell to his knees at the edge of the stream.
With trembling hands, he scooped the cool liquid to his lips and swallowed what tasted like pure ecstasy.
Each drink was a wave of rejuvenation, washing away two days of parched torment and reviving his senses.
Oakley knelt beside him and dipped his head under the running water before he opened his mouth wide.
Once Sawyer had drank all he could, he cupped both hands and splashed some on his face. The sting was so intense it knocked him back on his ass.
He hollered loud enough that Oakley ran to his side.
“Fuck, that fuckin’ burns!”
“I know. Come on, on your feet.” Oakley helped him up once again, took his hand, and pulled him back to the water. “You gotta clean it, then I have something that’ll ease the stinging.”
Sawyer removed his jacket and undershirt and got his first look at the reddened skin and bruises on his right side. It wasn’t as bad as his face and neck, but it might leave some scars.
He clenched his teeth, moisture gathering in the corners of his eyes as he ducked his head back under the water and took his time washing his hair and cleaning the burns the best he could.
By the time he finished, Oakley had started another fire and was roasting some palm-sized fish on more bamboo skewers.
He put his T-shirt back on but left his jacket unbuttoned as he sat beside Oakley on one of the rocks.
“Where’d you get those?”
Oakley stabbed at the small fire, keeping the flames blazing.