“How exactly do we do this?” I pressed my hands on my hips, arching my back for a quick stretch until some joints popped.
“When we get close to the last turn, you and I run. We go around the trap.” Hunter wiped the sweat off his face with the hem of his T-shirt. “They shouldn’t see us doing it, and if we are lucky, one or two of them will go right in the middle of it and have little time to react to avoid the fall.”
“What about the rest of them?” I wished we knew how many people were coming. Hunter said that Tom’s crew was four people, so we should expect at least that many.
“They either stop to help whoever fell, or they keep going after us. Either way, we know this place better than them, so we don’t stop moving until we reach the boat.”
“What if they shoot at us?”
“You duck and run,” Hunter said with so much calm in his voice that it sounded like he took it as a joke.
“What if we get separated?”
“You keep running. I’ll catch up with you. At the beach, you take their dinghy and motor out to the bay.”
I shook my head, feeling an unwelcome twinge of nerves in my ribcage. “We shouldn’t get separated.”
“Sydney, you get into the boat,” Hunter said, his tone firm but kind.
I didn’t like this plan at all. “I get into the dinghy, and then what?”
If I took it to the sailboat, I couldn’t navigate the boat alone to get us help. I wouldn’t even know where to begin. Maybe if I had many hours on my hands, but not under pressure and with time shorter than a lit bomb fuse. Damn it. Once I was back at home, a sailing course would be the first thing I’d sign up for.
“You know how to start an outboard motor, right?” he said. I nodded. “Take the dinghy out far enough and only come back when you see me on the beach. Alone.” Hunter wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me flush against him.
“And what if you don’t come back?” My voice cracked on the last part, and I hugged him tighter.
“I’ll come back.” He kissed the top of my head.
“Playing Hunger Games through the jungle might only work if your condition doesn’t decline again like it did this morning. Maybe you should rest and let me do all the work? Save your strength for healing.”
I let go of Hunter and scrutinized our trap. This was bad. A five-year-old could build something better. “This is way too obvious.”
Hunter walked around, rubbing his neck, then cursed under his breath. “This looks like total shit. Let’s get more leaves and branches. We should start covering the path much earlier, so it all blends into the point where we wouldn’t even know where John is.”
“I’ll do it, you sit,” I said.
“Sydney, I’m fine.”
I rolled my eyes, shaking my head at his stubbornness. “Then we need some clue as to where the center is so our asses don’t fall in.”
Hunter raked his good hand over his hair while he stood thinking and looking around for a minute. He stepped off the path and bent, his hand gripping something behind a low bush. Together, we dragged a bucket-size rock to the back side of the pit, aligning it in the middle.
“This is our indicator,” Hunter said.
We worked for an hour, pausing a few times to listen if we heard something. Soon, for anyone who had never been here, the path looked like an untouched part of the jungle, which was probably what it had looked like when Johnny the skeleton stepped into this trap.
Hunter and I walked back to the hut quietly, ensuring if someone was waiting for us, we heard them before they heard us. I couldn’t stop thinking about worst-case scenarios: we fall into our trap, they separate us, they hurt us, or worse, they… I banished that last thought out of my mind. Nothing would happen to Hunter and me because our first plan would work, and we’d sail away into the sunset, or whatever time of the day, and he and I would take control of their boat.
The area around the kitchen and hut was empty, and the bay was free of boats. It was a huge relief to know we had some time to find a good hiding place and perhaps come up with extra plans. It was better to be over prepared than underprepared.
“Should we hide in the grotto?” I found a Ziploc bag in the desk drawer and handed it to Hunter. If Hunter couldn’t find the enclosed alcove after all these years, it was guaranteed (if we stayed silent) that Tom wouldn’t find it, either. “Let’s take food and fresh water and wait for them to leave. How long can they possibly stay here? A few days? A week at most?”
Hunter added coins and gems to the bag. We were going to hide it and retrieve it later when we could bring help with us.
“And then what do we do?” Hunter said.
“They leave, and we build a raft, Tom Hanks style, and paddle away.” I smiled.
