Hide Out

"We're gonna have to double back," Shia reasoned.

"It's too dangerous! They'll spread out if they are as intelligent as the Discovery Channel claims to be. We just have to keep going," I protested. I hated testing his patience or intelligence, but was it worth listening to everything he said? It was now dusk, everything appearing dim and gray.

"Right, but how in the Hell do we scale this waterfall thing in the dark? Who knows how tall it even is? There has got to be a place we can hide for the night!" Shia had stopped and was trying desperately to see the compass as the dark slowly consumed us.

"True. I don't know we can't stumble around forever, right? Should we double back, as you said, and maybe stick to the treetops?" I asked Shia.

"Yeah, let's do that," he agreed. "Here, take my hand, I don't want you to lose me, or vice versa, out here," Shia said while grasping my small hand in his large one. His hand made me feel reassured.

We doubled back, going northwest. The sounds from our hunters were just to the right of us, yards away. Our precious time was running out. In the fading light, Shia and I came across a sprawling tree. I let go of his hand and began to climb the tree, using its branches and vines as hand and foot holds. Twenty feet up the main trunk split into four, with a huge hollow in the middle. I tested the gap, pleased to find it was only a couple of feet deep. I scrambled inside and used one of the four branches as a backrest. Shia climbed up, and I grabbed his wrist to pull him in. He landed beside me, the spacious hollow just big enough for breathing room but small enough to where our legs kept in contact.

The hollow concealed us from the chest, down. Shia was peering over the edge, trying to hear anyone if they were coming. I noticed that the trees had become quieter, and the temperature had dropped at an alarming rate. I shivered, regretting not letting my underwear dry out. Shia noticed and scooted closer, putting a warm arm around my shoulders.

"Thanks," I said, cozying up to him.

"Yeah, no problem."

In the dim light, I noticed on his right wrist, that he had a tattoo. I'd never seen this tattoo before and could never figure out what it meant.

"What does that tattoo on your wrist mean?" I asked him.

"Well, I've noticed that a lot of people who have been working a lot of their life, I've been doing this for 10 years, a lot of people say, 'Oh, I forgot my childhood, or I miss my childhood.' It says 1986 to 2004, a precautionary, so I don't forget. They're 18 years of my childhood, displayed for the world, but mostly for myself to see." Shia answered.

"What about the one on your back? It's cool. What does it mean?"

"It's like an artist drawing his own prison."

"What inspired it?"

"Just life. That's where I'm at."

"Did you draw it yourself, or did you have someone else do it?" I asked him, sleepily intrigued.

"No. It's an art piece that I saw many years ago. It's always been a cool visual for me. It's kind of how it feels too. You always talk about stardom or whatnot; the more you do this, the more successful you are. You're entrapping yourself, you know, because regardless of if you want to be a personality or not, that's part of the game, so that sort of represents that to me a little bit."

"Wow. That's cool. Thanks for sharing that with me," I said.

"No problem, that's what questions are for," Shia said before peering again over the edge.

"Do you think they're gone?" I asked him.

"I'm not sure, but I will keep watch if they pull something. You need your sleep anyways."

"So do you. We can take turns if it comes down to it," I suggested.

Shia chuckled," We'll see."

"You know what this reminds me of?" I asked him. I was aware of his slow and steady breathing as I leaned my head against his chest.

"What?"

"This literature story my class had to listen to in the seventh grade," I answered.

"Oh, the one about the hunter dude who hunted humans instead of animals on this island, right?" Shia asked, catching on.

"Yeah, that's the one...what was the name...grr..." I couldn't remember.

"I think it was The Most Dangerous Game, wasn't it?" Shia asked.

"Yeah, that's it! Yeah, that's what this feels like."

"Well, he had dogs, and I'm sure he wasn't a cannibal," Shia laughed.

"Do you think they'll find us?" I asked him, feeling drowsy.

"I don't know. I hope not. I'll be up, watching, just in case." He tightened his arm around me a little more, so it was more comfortable for him, and I lay there, staring at the dark leaves in front of us. Breathing him in and out was soothing. It was like we were safely tucked away from the world, and everything would be alright.