Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Never before had my mind been so frazzled, so chaotic, and so desperate.
With my gloves on, I used my hands as much as my feet to climb higher on the mountain. Over boulders and rocks, up a small cliffside trapped behind thick root systems. I pulled myself up, grunting and weeping, hating everything, at the same time as I finally saw the light at the end of the tunnel.
I was gonna make it.
In half an hour or so, I’d see the training facility.
My heart might explode from the adrenaline rush, and it was the only fuel I had left in my body.
Water.
Water.
Please give me water.
Fresh, clean water. Not from a stream where I’d encountered that caiman, not from the waterfall where the water had been too yellow, not from the lake where the water had been too still to be anywhere near drinkable even after boiling, not from the swampy puddles in which I’d become a feast for leeches, and not from condensation pools in big-ass leaves.
I never wanted to see another spider or snake for as long as I lived. And the moths, the lizards, the bugs—oh, the squishy bugs filled with slime that were nothing like in the Lion King. Roaches, nymphs, vicious tiger beetles, ants, all the fucking ants.
Ironically, my one and only encounter with an anaconda had been more fascinating than anything else. It’d been fairly small, maybe twelve feet, and it’d slithered away from me.
No jaguars, no Fer-de-lance snakes, no bullet ants—thank fuck. I would’ve expired. What I’d suffered through was enough.
More tears rolled down my cheeks, and I felt legit crazy. Angry, murderous. Fucking plants. I hoped every goddamn tree here became furniture. Cut the whole fucking forest down. Set the global corporations loose and burn the motherfucker to the ground.
I scratched my arm and accidentally glanced down, just to see red streaks of blood from my scratching.
That was great. Exposed wounds—highly recommended.
While we were at it, throw every bird on the grill, and we could have a party. I was sick of their constant cawing and chirping.
I forced myself to stop and have another look at the map. And to calm down a little. My heart kept thundering, and my mouth was too dry.
Okay. I was on the right mountain, at least. That was nice.
I brushed some dirt away from the map and looked up the hill.
Almost there, right? Maybe ten minutes to go?
I hoped I wasn’t the last one to return.
Did anyone quit?
Shit. The thought hadn’t occurred to me a single time so far, but chances were at least one recruit was out.
As long as I wasn’t the last one to get back, I’d be thrilled. Miguel had probably been back for hours already, and Tanner had scored really well during field exercises in the Shenandoah. I could accept Shawn finishing before me too. He was extremely resilient.
With my heart rate down to 150, I picked up the pace again and ran upward as fast as I could.
The hysteria settled within me, suppressed by determination and anticipation.
I was almost there.
Sweat poured down my face, my heart started pounding again, and every muscle in my body protested, but I didn’t care. The trees were parting up ahead, revealing more and more sky. Pristine white sky.
Closer.
A little closer.
I climbed over a fallen tree and almost fell on the way down. Almost.
Then I started hearing voices.
“Recruit Watts inbound!”
“Riggs, get the medic kit! He’ll need fluids too!”
A whimper slipped out, and my eyes flooded with tears.
Oh my God, I couldn’t wait to see Bo. I needed to see the laugh lines that appeared when he smiled, the way the corners of his eyes crinkled, his perfect teeth, the warmth and charisma in each smirk, and the scruff that glinted lighter shades of brown and gray in the sun.
I grabbed on to a root and pulled myself higher, one foot on a rock, the other in the mud, hands coated in dirt and grime. My face was probably the same. My clothes were brown now. I’d only brought one change of clothes, and I’d bothered to wash them precisely one time. The only portion of my hygiene routine I’d been vigilant with was brushing my teeth—up until two days ago when I’d snapped my toothbrush in half and dropped it in a river.
Ten more feet.
It was a steep climb in this area, and I didn’t have the energy to find a better spot. I hauled myself up with sheer will, keeping my eyes fixed on the bright light ahead.
I sniffled and found purchase in a patch of tall grass. A few more steps. I grunted and cursed—and of course I got weepy again. I couldn’t fucking help it. I’d made it. The low brick building came into view, and so did the four operators standing outside the gates.