Chapters (72)
- Dedication
- Prey Island Map
- PROLOGUE
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- CREED
- SIX
- BILLIE
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- JIRO
- TWELVE
- BILLIE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- ROW
- TWENTY-TWO
- BILLIE
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- ACHILLES
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- CREED
- THIRTY-NINE
- BILLIE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- ROW
- FIFTY
- BILLIE
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- TO CONTINUE THE ADVENTURE…
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- ALSO BY KENDRA
The jungle gets so thick at a certain point that we slow to a crawl as we take turns using the machete Jiro brought to hack at the vines. Some of the tall grass is cutting as we push through, leaving behind little thin slices on my face and arms. Still, I insist on taking turns on the machete, earning my keep. I won’t be a damsel in need of saving. I won’t be the joke they thought they were dropping on the island.
Jiro and Creed allow me to prove my worth despite it taking me slightly longer to cut my way through. Jiro swings the machete with a gracefulness that tells me he’s used to swinging a sword. Creed swings it with the brute force of a man who has dug his way through some shit. But me, it takes me a shit load more effort to knock down the brush and it pisses me off.
“Make sure when you swing it that your blade is angled just right,” Jiro offers. “The better the cut, the less power you have to include behind it. It’s sharp. Let it do the heavy lifting.”
I angle my arm the way he says and am pleasantly surprised when it starts working better. “Thank you,” I grunt as I keep swinging.
We continue like that for hours, pushing our way through the undergrowth, trudging deeper. I’m so focused on swinging the blade, I’m almost surprised when the thick part ends and I stumble out of the undergrowth, right into the sight of a large rifle. I pause, the machete held tightly in my hand, as Jiro and Creed come out behind me and do the same.
“Well, look what we have here,” the man says, as if I haven’t heard that line before. His beady eyes focus on me first and then take in the other two. There’s a cigar hanging from his lips that he chews on like it’s going to turn into food. The gun in his hand is large and looks like something meant for taking down elephants decades ago, like from an old safari movie. He doesn’t look like he has many weapons on his body, nothing else besides the gun and maybe a hunting knife by the looks of it, but it’s clear that he isn’t one of us because of the expensive watch he’s wearing. Rolex. Gold.
This is one of the predators.
“Who are you?” I ask, my eyes narrowing.