The Race

I unsheathed my machete and chopped through the thick amazon growth. Moisture trickled upon my face as I picked up my pace. I had to be the first there. If not I’d be expecting a meeting at the devil’s house. My opponent could be ahead or behind me, but it didn’t matter. I just had to get there first as there is only one helicopter in this vast jungle, sitting peacefully in a large spot of land that trees had been rid of. If I didn’t reach the helicopter first id be dead.

I pushed on for countless hours until I spotted it. The helicopter lay there and I cracked a smile of relief. But then I spotted him. He ran across the field as he spotted me, tens of metres from the helicopter, from freedom. He is going to gt there before me, I thought. I unholstered my Glock and took in a deep breath and then sprayed him up. He dropped dead and I began my journey to the helicopter, my journey home.

Gary unsheathed his knife and began cutting through the dense jungle bush. Sweat trickled down his face as pushed forward. It was vital that he got to the helicopter before the other unknown person. If he didn’t, he would be stranded.

After countless hours, he saw the helicopter’s blades jutting through the trees. He cracked a grin that was quickly replaced by a look of horror as he saw the person running toward the helicopter. He unholstered his Glock and sprayed the persons feet up. The person lay there with his legs shredded and looked up to Gary flying toward the horizon.