They turn and wander off up the beach, chatting and laughing the entire way as if this is just another day. Only after we can no longer hear their loud voices do we relax. My muscles ache from the tension as we hovered there, from the danger we were in despite hiding.

“Disgusting,” I grunt, shaking my head. “Humans, no matter the growth, always seem to disappoint me.”

We stand, stretching after the few minutes of being crouched and tense. Creed turns to check on us before nodding that it’s safe to move. There are no more hunters right now, but we definitely don’t want to spend too long on the beach. It’s wide open, leaving us as vulnerable as sitting ducks, so we’ll go out, see if there’s anything we can use, and get back in the trees quickly. Too bad we don’t have time to fish. I bet there’s plenty of things to eat in the water.

I step out first, because there’s no danger according to Creed. I expect to push through more leaves and settle into the sand. That’s not what happens. When I reach forward and push, I don’t touch leaves. I touch something warm. Because I’m not expecting it and I’m clumsier than a new stripper apparently, I stumble forward in surprise.

Right into a man practically camouflaged with his surroundings.

My arms flap in panic as I try to get away from him, my voice lost to the threat before me. I don’t know what I’m prepared to do or where I’m going. My only instinct is to get away from the dangerous person hiding in plain sight. Jiro appears in front of me before I make it even two steps, his pistol trained on the newcomer with a far steadier hand than I can ever manage.

The jungle man immediately holds up his hands in surrender. “Whoa, I’m not carrying a gun,” he says, his voice rich with a midwestern accent. “You wouldn’t shoot an unarmed man, would you?”

Jiro narrows his eyes on the man but doesn’t lower his gun. Smart. “Why aren’t you carrying a gun?”

“Don’t need one. I’m just trying to survive, not kill anyone.” He shrugs and drops his hands as if the threat has passed despite the gun still trained on him. “Of course, I don’t need a gun to kill anyone either. The island has plenty of weapons.”

Creed studies him, taking in the way he’d expertly smeared mud and leaves on his clothing. The hunters hadn’t even seen him, and he’d been standing right beside them. “I saw you,” Creed says, studying the new man. “You ran off before they even announced the money.”