Chereads / JMDT: Jamaican Death Tag / Chapter 2 - A true friend

Chapter 2 - A true friend

Chapter 1

First, I had to find other people—people I could trust if there were any. Moving cautiously, I picked a direction and started walking, hoping to find a clearing or some kind of landmark. Every rustle in the underbrush set my nerves on edge, and every shadow seemed to conceal potential threats. Making it through the forest, unsure of where to go, the night crept in fast. Hunger felt like it was gripping my stomach. I felt lightheaded, like I was about to collapse. As my eyes were shutting slowly and I was about to give in, I saw a light.

I started to run, tripping on the roots of the trees and pushing aside some bushes. I saw it—a fire. I felt relief like no other, but still, a question stood in the back of my head: who made this fire? But there was no time to think. I was just glad to sleep. As the night finally set in, I collapsed.

I woke up to the smell of something cooking. My eyes blinked open, and I saw the fire had burned down to embers. A figure was crouched nearby, roasting what looked like a small animal on a makeshift spit. I sat up, my stomach growling loudly, and the figure turned. It was a girl I recognized from school—Marcia, a seventh-grader with a reputation for being tough.

"You awake," she said, not unkindly. "You look like you could use some food."

I nodded, my throat too dry to speak. She handed me a piece of the roasted meat, and I ate it greedily, barely noticing the taste. As I ate, Marcia explained.

"I found you passed out in the bushes. Didn't think it was right to leave you there, so I dragged you here. We're all from the same school, right?"

I nodded again, finally managing to speak. "Yeah. Thanks for saving me."

She shrugged. "No big deal. But we need to stick together if we're going to survive this. I saw some others nearby, but they're... not friendly."

A chill ran down my spine. "You mean they've already started... playing the game?"

Marcia nodded grimly. "I saw two boys from eighth grade fighting earlier. One of them, Andre, tagged the other, and he... well, he died. It's real, aaron. This game is real."

I shuddered, the reality of our situation sinking in deeper. "We need to find more people we can trust. Form a group. Safety in numbers, right?"

"Agreed," Marcia said. "But we have to be careful. Not everyone is going to be on our side."

We decided to move out at first light. The night was filled with strange sounds, and I slept fitfully, waking at every snap of a twig or rustle of leaves. When dawn finally broke, we set off, moving quietly through the forest.

After an hour or so, we heard voices up ahead. We crouched behind some bushes and peered through the leaves. Three students were arguing loudly—two boys from tenth grade and a girl from ninth. The argument quickly escalated, and to my horror, one of the boys lunged at the girl, tagging her. She fell to the ground, lifeless.

I felt sick. This was madness. But there was no time to dwell on it. The remaining boy turned on his companion, and another struggle ensued. Marcia tugged on my arm.

"We need to go," she whispered urgently. "Now."

We backed away slowly, trying not to draw attention. Suddenly, a twig snapped under my foot, and the boys' heads whipped around. They saw us. Without thinking, I grabbed Marcia's hand and we ran.

They chased us through the forest, but we knew we couldn't keep running forever. My lungs burned, and my legs felt like lead. We stumbled into a small clearing, and I knew we had to make a stand.

"Hide," I whispered to Marcia. "I'll distract them."

"No way," she hissed back. "We're in this together."

There was no time to argue. The boys burst into the clearing, and I picked up a fallen branch, brandishing it like a weapon. One of them laughed.

"You're gonna fight us with that?" he sneered. "You're dead, aaron."

He lunged at me, and I swung the branch, hitting him across the face. He stumbled back, stunned. The other boy moved to flank me, but Marcia leaped out from behind a tree, tackling him to the ground.

In the chaos, I managed to get a hold of the first boy's token. He gasped, realizing what had happened, and then collapsed. The second boy, seeing his friend's fate, scrambled to his feet and ran off into the forest.

We stood there, breathing heavily, the adrenaline slowly fading. I looked down at the token in my hand. It felt like a mark of shame, a reminder of what I'd been forced to do.

"Are you okay?" Marcia asked, her voice shaking.

I nodded numbly. "Yeah. Let's keep moving."

We walked in silence, the weight of what had just happened hanging over us. After what felt like hours, we came across a small stream. We drank greedily, the cold water refreshing our parched throats.

"We need to find a safe place," Marcia said, her voice breaking the silence. "Somewhere we can rest and regroup."

I agreed. We followed the stream, hoping it would lead us to a larger body of water or a landmark. As we walked, we came across more signs of the game's brutality—abandoned campsites, discarded tokens, and once, the body of a young girl I recognized from the seventh grade. I said a silent prayer for her.

By midday, we were exhausted. The sun beat down on us mercilessly, and we found a small, shaded grove where we could rest. I sat down, leaning against a tree, and closed my eyes, trying to push away the images of death and violence that haunted my mind.

"We can't go on like this," I said softly. "We need a plan."

Marcia nodded. "I know. But what can we do? This island is huge, and we have no idea where we are."

I thought about the announcement. "There must be a way to end this. Maybe if we find the person who's running the game, we can stop it."

"That's a big maybe," Marcia replied. "But it's better than nothing. We need to find a map or some kind of information about this place."

Just then, we heard rustling in the bushes. We tensed, ready to run or fight, but a voice called out.

"aaron? Marcia? Is that you?"

It was Shamar, a twelfth-grader I knew from school. He looked battered and bruised, but alive. He approached cautiously, relief flooding his face when he saw us.

"Thank God," he said. "I thought I was the only one left."

We filled him in on what had happened, and he told us his story. He'd been hiding out, trying to avoid confrontations, but he had seen his share of deaths. He agreed to join us, and together, we continued our search for answers.

As the day wore on, we encountered more students—some friendly, some hostile. We fought when we had to, and by evening, we had formed a small group of survivors. We found an old cabin near the edge of the forest and decided to make it our base.

Inside, we found a map of the island. It showed the locations of various supply caches and points of interest. We pored over it, planning our next moves.

"We need to hit these supply points," Shamar said, pointing to several marked spots. "We can't survive without food and water."

"And we need to find the person behind this," I added. "End this game once and for all."

It was a daunting task, but we had no choice. As night fell, we took turns keeping watch, the reality of our situation weighing heavily on us. This island had become a battleground, and we were fighting for our lives.

As I sat by the window, watching the stars, I thought about home. I thought about my family, my friends, and the life that had been so abruptly torn away. I vowed to survive this game, not just for myself, but for all those who had already fallen.

The night was long and restless, but by morning, we were ready to face whatever came next. Together, we would find a way to survive and end this nightmare. The game had begun, but we were determined to rewrite the rules.