The Guadeloupe Squadeloupe

Chapter XI: Guad

"When given the choice between being right or being kind, choose kind."- Wonder

We tear through the darkness, dodging trees and trying not to get tripped by thorns.

Diana is on my one side and Perry on another as we propel across the hills. We have a few supplies on our backs, such as food, a couple switchblades, and supplies from the plane, but that's practically it.

My moccasin clad feet bounce on the rough roots of shrubs, pressing me forwards with each step. The tall jungle trees menacingly try to keep us in. If I look up, I can hardly glance to the stars.

I keep wondering what will happen if those men catch us. How will we die? I've never been so terrified. Not even in the plane crash.

"They won't chase us for very long, will they?" Diana pants.

"I'm not sure," I tell her honestly.

"But let's not stick around to find out!" Bob advises, running ahead and jumping over a log, Janis at his heels. She, Perry, and Bob seem to be keeping up the best, with Alice not very far behind them. I guess that comes from them being the most athletic.

I wish I could have their energy, but I don't seem to work out as much as I thought.

But the run isn't very hard, and that might be because as we sprint, time seems to flow differently. In fact, it seems that time doesn't even flow at all. All that matters is the running. The getting away. It reminds me of when I went to primary school before my parents died. They always told you to run laps and such, but no one wanted to do it. But now I feel like to restrict me from running is a cruel punishment.

At some point, we all rush into a large and tough growth of underbrush and violently begin tearing it apart. It pushes against our legs, as if it's screaming, No! You can't go past! After the incident, my hands are bloody.

Everyone must have been looking at the sky or something, because Bob yells out that it's about morning.

For some reason, that makes us all decide to stop. We collapse on a scratchy hillside. There are less jungle trees around us right now. Instead they are sparsely distributed along the hillside.

"Do you," pant, "think they've stopped?" Perry wheezes. He sounds as exhausted as I feel.

Bob nods. "There's no way they can still be chasing us. Unless they support the 'No Victim Left Behind' rule."

We try to laugh. And the reason we can't, for me at least, is not that he's not funny, but I'm too tired.

So instead, I slowly let my eyes drift off, and without speaking to the squad, fall asleep.

...

I don't think I've ever appreciated sleep before as much as I have today. My body is practically in a coma, not wanting anything but rest.

So I'm a tad bit annoyed when I randomly wake up. By now, the sun is high and proud in the sky, filling the large Bolivian sky.

As I heft myself up, I groan. All that running was some of the hardest work I've ever done. We literally ran all night long.

From what I can see, only Bob is awake, looking out into the hills that have become more dotted with trees. Something I didn't notice with all the excitement of last night.

I want to talk to my friend, but first, there is something I know I have to do.

Crawling away to where he isn't going to suspect me awake, I reach into my pocket and pull out the packet of letters. The first one has still been haunting me for the past few days. I can't wrap my mind around the idea that my parents worked for Delgato.