THE HUNT: Acid Vanilla Book 3 by Matthew Hattersley

Author:Matthew Hattersley [Hattersley, Matthew]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Boom Boom Press

CHAPTER 21

Way across on the opposite side of the island, Sofia Swann and Andreas Welles were still searching for a means of escape. Same as everyone. After the security alert they’d fled the scene, running as fast as their exhausted muscles allowed, keeping low and to the trees, not stopping until they’d reached the centre of the island. Now, knowing that they were being watched, it was easier to spot the cameras, easier to zig-zag around them and stay hidden. Sticking together, they’d moved across to the west coast in a wide arc and, knock on wood (not a problem in this damn jungle), they’d managed to stay out of sight from the hunters and island security.

Still, as time had ticked on, as the sweltering heat dropped and night seeped through the trees, Sofia found her plucky resolve wearing thin. Now, with the dark murky jungle stretching out forever on both sides, she began to drown in the ocean of her own thoughts. Seemingly from nowhere, a conversation she’d had with Mike a while back popped into her head, one of those silly intellectual discussions that they got into from time to time. A ‘What would you do if…?’ kind of thing. They’d been watching some war movie on Netflix. Saving Private Ryan perhaps, Sofia couldn’t recall. It wasn’t her choice, she knew that much. But their relationship was a modern, twenty-first-century concern, run like a democracy, and it was Mikey boy’s turn to choose. But as the movie had dragged on, and she had grown tired of all that khaki and blood, she’d thrown one in the mix.

How would you cope mentally if you were fighting in a war?

Mike’s answer had shocked her a little, but she had to agree it was the only choice. He’d thought about it for a while and then told her plainly. “I guess I’d get into the mindset I was going to die. It’s the only way I could survive and make the right choices.”

Sofia understood. He didn’t mean it in a nihilistic ‘What’s the use, might as well end it’ kind of way. But to get through that hell, you’d have to accept you were a goner. After that anything else was a bonus. Mike (an ancient history student when they’d met) had then gone off on a long-winded tangent about Samurai warriors and how they had a similar mindset of ‘dying before going into battle’. Explaining how, by doing this, they could be present on the battlefield, not stuck in their heads worrying if they were going to die the whole time. Something along those lines. She had stopped listening. But being here now, on this hellish island, it all made sense. It was the only way through. So here she was, dead. Ready to do what was needed.

We are the dead.

We are the dead.

“Hey, how you holding up?” Welles asked, leaning into her as they strode on down a long dirt path that cut through a large area of dense vegetation.

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