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Randomness
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Is in some state of existence
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((B039 - Jordan Green - Start))

Jordan had been running for a while. Okay, it was more of a terrible mix between a run and a walk given the speed he had been going at, but he was far away from wherever he had found himself awake and that was all that really mattered to him right now. He finally stopped capable of going no further at the moment, slumping to a sorry heap on the ground at the base of the slopes.

Jordan heaved horrendously, nausea overwhelming him, the physical and mental exertions too much for him too handle. The smell was horrendous and despite his body aching in a million different places, he stood up, if only to get away from the smell if his own sick, before collapsing back on the ground a few metres away.

It had made sense at the time, when he had woken up the only things on his mind had been the video, Mr Graham corpse, and the fact that the surprisingly young looking man who called himself Danya had wanted them to kill each other. The bag, the collar, everything confirmed where he was, and when he heard someone moving about, he had freaked out, thinking about how he needed to get out of there.

And so he had run.

Now of course, there were different thoughts on his mind, like how he couldn’t breathe and how his muscles were screaming. Running was bad. He wasn’t made for running, and if he had his own way he probably wanted to never run ever again. But it wasn’t a surprise that he had freaked out right? It would take someone ridiculous to be okay in this situation, someone absolutely insane. People had died, people were probably dying, and he had been dumped on some godforsaken island in some forlorn part of the world where he would lead a short sad life before being unceremoniously shanked or shot and left to bleed to death in a ditch.

He shouldn’t have been here. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Obviously the terrorists had made a mistake because this was not supposed to happen. Even if they were anywhere as precise as their previous abductions showed, they’d clearly made a mistake this time around. Jordan Green was a junior and he wasn’t supposed to be here. They were supposed to have targeted senior trips, weren’t they? The whole thing seemed to be a deranged joke on the part of some sick man, which was probably the entire point of this affair.

Jordan wiped the tears from his face, but only managed to get dirt onto his face as well. How long had he been crying for? Since he had realised what was going on? Did his family already know he was missing? It had been at least a day since they had left, right? The government hadn’t taken too long in finding the island after the broadcast that year, right? Maybe they had a chance of escape this time round? But that was just a maybe and all he had was a piece of rope, and there would always be that guy with a gun. There always were idiots with guns in Kingman and they would be here too.

He lay back on to the ground. He knew from gym class that he shouldn’t do that when trying to recover, but that barely mattered at this point. He’d lost his cool, and now he was tired enough to be practically delirious. He lay there in the soil, mind ready to drift off again. Sleep. That was all he needed. This time though, Jordan wasn’t sure if he wanted to wake up.
Edited by Randomness, Aug 13 2016, 08:49 PM.
"I have the heart of a young boy. I keep it in a jar on my desk" -- Stephen King

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