Wish You Were Here

31

I pulled him up by his forearm. He was staring down at her in shock. I flung the backpack over my shoulder and tugged at him.

"Grant!" I yelled. "We need to go! Now!"

He stumbled up, his eyes wide, and braced himself for anyone else. I kept pulling him until he finally turned and ran along with me. We rushed along the flat part of the ground and ducked behind some rocks. Breathing hard, I chugged some water. Grant peeked out and we waited a few minutes before we spoke.

"Are you okay?" He stared at me.

I nodded, my eyes filling with tears. "That guy...he fell. Is he-?"

Grant grabbed my hand. "He would've hurt you or worse, killed you."

"I know," I agreed, trying to swallow back my sobs.

He reached out and hugged me. I hugged him back, my body shaking. He rubbed my back and whispered in my ear, "It's okay."

I tried to control my breathing. I wiped my face with my hands and took a deep breath.

"I'm okay." I looked up at Grant.

He nodded and put his hand on my shoulder. Leaning in, his forehead bumped up gently against mine and he stared into my eyes.

"We're going to get off this island. We'll be alright," he told me.

I nodded, his hand still gripping my shoulder as he lifted his head from mine.

"Are you sure you can keep going?" he asked cautiously.

"I'm sure," I assured him, even though I felt nauseas.

He took another long look at me before turning around and walking back to the path. I squeezed my eyes shut as tightly as possible, the last of my tears flooding my eyelashes. I opened them and focused straight ahead. No matter what happened, I couldn't stop. I couldn't afford to have a break down now. I'd have to push those emotions deep down where I couldn't find them and just keep my eyes focusing straight ahead without feeling.

We walked in silence, but Grant would take random looks over his shoulder at me. After grabbing some food out of our bag, we took a break at another clearing. I also used that opportunity to go through the backpack.

I dumped everything out and Grant and I both just stared at the pile. There was a black t-shirt, rope, a large knife, a lighter, some snacks and bottles of water.

"What am I missing?" I asked him. "Is this typical stuff a guy packs for camp?"

He looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"Were they campers?" I asked him. "I know it sounds stupid, but they were both around our age, I think. But so far, we've been chased by a handful of people and if they're all teenagers, why are they all so violent? They have all tried to come after us. Do you think that wall separates us from some camp for violent kids?"

Grant shook his head right away. "I don't think they were campers, Ry."

"Then who were they?" I shrieked.

"I'm not sure." He sighed. "I mean, maybe on the other side of that wall, there is some sort of group of violent teens, like you say. But I doubt it's a summer camp. It has to be more like a cult or group."