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)
Sawyer didn’t know how much time had gone by, but the fearful noises of the jungle weren’t the kind of lullaby one could sleep to.
“Can you move?” Oakley asked, still holding him.
The narcotic coursing through his system gave him a false sense of numbness, so he wasn’t sure.
Sawyer gave his legs a quick test to see if they had feeling, then twisted his upper body from side to side to check for broken ribs.
It appeared he’d walked away with only burns and perhaps a concussion, but at least he’d walked away at all.
Sawyer tried not to let the demise of his crew cripple him. Not yet, anyway.
If he and Oakley had survived, maybe there were others.
Chief Aiken Oakley
Oakley allowed Sawyer’s pain reliever to work another ten minutes, then he was hefting his heavy ass up and onto his boots. They weren’t on fucking vacation. They couldn’t lie on the ground all night.
There was minimal light left for him to find them a suitable perch. Trekking in the Amazon at night was asking for death.
Sawyer put his hand out, indicating he wanted to stand on his own.
The chief wavered a bit before he clutched a nearby tree to steady himself.
Oakley stayed quiet and allowed Sawyer to get his bearings, but the threatening screeches of the nocturnal animals began to get louder.
“It’s about eighteen klicks to the last rendezvous point, Chief. If the Wyoshai clan is smart, they’ll send reinforcements to scour the river for that hard drive and any supplies they can scavenge, then send men at least ten miles in every direction for survivors.”
Oakley sighed.
“In which there are none. But we’ll have to assume all extraction points are burned and attempt rescue by Trans highway. With only our 9mm side arms, that’s not enough to defend against an army.”
Sawyer dropped his head and let out a grief-stricken moan.
“Are you absolutely sure they’re all gone, Oakley? I mean one hundred percent. Because if there’s even a one percent chance some of my men are out there, then I’d rather stay and die with—”
“There’s no one left, Sawyer.”
Confessing that made a weight the size of a ship anchor slam into the pit of his stomach. His eyes burned with unshed tears as he tried not to picture the sight of his men—his best friends—whose bodies were now scattered along the polluted river.
“I’m sure of it.”
“How the fuck did only us survive?”
“Because I took you under the water with me before the last explosions hit. Explosions that were mission-killers.”
“Fuck!” Sawyer hollered before his voice broke in half. “I never fuckin’ lose.”
“You didn’t lose, chief. Our country did.”
Sawyer growled so low and deep Oakley almost mistook it for a wild cat.
“I’m gonna make every one of those bastards wish they had let us go because now I’m coming back for ’em.”
“Then let’s go get another boat.”
Oakley pulled his soaked map from the lower pocket of his cargos and used his mini Maglite to search for the best route to the highway.
He brushed past Sawyer and began to lead them deeper into the jungle.
Chief Styles Sawyer
“Ow, shit!”
“What?” Oakley spun, and Sawyer collided with him since he’d insisted he stay close.
“Something bit me.”
“First rule, don’t fuckin’ yell out again,” Oakley snarled. “Second rule, don’t tell me every time you get bit…not unless it’s from an anaconda.”
“Fuck off.”
Oakley started walking again, and Sawyer did as he’d asked and kept his fist grazing the small of his back so they didn’t get separated in the dark.
Oakley stopped every few steps and scanned the ground, then high up in the trees.
“What are you looking for?” he finally asked.
“Shelter,” Oakley said, flashing his small light into the trees.
“It’s far safer than down here with the poisonous frogs, spiders, and snakes all looking for food.”
They crept along for another hour, stumbling over massive roots and freezing at the sounds of nearby growls before Oakley came to another sudden stop.
Oh, thank god.
Sawyer was exhausted and in immense pain, his face burning as if he were lying on a bed of embers, and worse, his pain medicine was wearing off with each weary step, but he refused to complain.
“About fuckin’ time I found something.”
“Found what?”
He tried to search around, but all he saw was darkness.
“An animal that’s at the top of the food chain.”
Sawyer followed Oakley’s gaze high up into the trees and almost swallowed his tongue at what he saw.
Holy shit!
“What the fuckin’ fuck, Oakley? I’m not going anywhere near that goddamn Pterodactyl,” he snarled.
Oakley’s low chuckle was infuriating.
“Calm down. It’s a harpy eagle and not even a full-grown one. They rarely attack humans, especially if they’re not nesting…which I don’t see one.” Oakley gripped the low-hanging branch and started climbing. “And it’s highly unlikely we’ll find any snakes or large game near him.”
“I said, I’m not going,” Sawyer was an ocean man… He hated land animals. He didn’t trust them.