REM

Uncharted

When you're on the run, you don't really care if the area is uncharted, except for in my case. Not only was I stranded on a secret drug route that was well-hidden from Police enforcement and Government agents, I had someone hunting me. There would be no rescue party, I had to find my own way out of this mess and hope they were never able to find me again. And to quickly explain how I got into this situation, let's just say you should never vouch for a friend when dealing with drug lords. Even if your friend tells the truth and doesn't throw you under the bus, if they don't believe him, they don't really care. He gets a bullet between the eyes and you get mere seconds to run. And that's just what I did.

My heart was pounding, sweat was running down my entire face. I had to wipe it away constantly to prevent it from burning my eyes and impeding any progress I might make in putting distance between myself and the ruthless men behind me. They cared about two things: their product, and being paid for it. Actually, they cared more about being paid what they thought it was worth above all else. And if they thought you gypped them on a deal, stole anything, or even lied about looking at their guns – it was hard not to look, they were pretty nice – then you were most likely going to be taken into the woods and shot.

Today, my best friend suffered that fate. I nearly became his partner in death as well, but I got lucky. We entered the drug trade business as runners – partners – but that ended as soon as his body fell limp to the forest floor beside me. My survival instincts kicked in and I knew I had to make it out alive. I knew that there was nothing I could do for him. If I stayed and begged for my life, there was no guarantee they would pity me and spare my life.

Stumbling along, I finally came to one of the twisting roads used for transport trucks on the drug route. There was one parked alone, usually meaning it was empty and ready for use at a moment's notice. I ran across the dirt road, checking over my shoulder for my pursuers. They were still making their way through the dense forest made of thin, tall trees.

I tried the handle, but it wouldn't budge. My gut feeling told me that my options to survive just plummeted to zero. Walking away from the white truck, I noticed a man coming through the forest behind it, perhaps he was the driver. At that point in time though, I couldn't afford to take any chances. I bolted for edge of the dirt road where I found nothing but a drop.

Tall trees lined the bottom, disguising the distance I had to fall; most likely to my death, at least a broken leg, if not both. Taking one last look behind me, I saw the group of men with guns to my left and the lone man walking past the truck. He didn't say anything to me, so I made a split-second decision to turn and jump. As I fell towards the trees and eventually the ground, I tried to grab onto something, anything.

Halfway down – I'm guessing – I got snagged on something, causing me to flip and eventually hit the hard ground on my side. It slowed my fall just enough that I wasn't knocked out, but now I was hurting and unsure if I could carry on. On the plus side, I didn't think anyone would be stupid, or desperate enough to follow my leap of faith. For the moment, I was safe. Lost, in pain, disoriented, yet away from the guns which could so easily end my life. Who knew for sure if I would make it out of the forest alive, especially considering the fact I've been lying here for probably an hour now.

I tried standing up, but my arm gave out before I could get to my feet. All of those times I got into trouble with my best friend when we were young; none could have prepared me for this. I was on the verge of dying alone in the middle of a forest, with a body seemingly too damaged to allow me to even crawl. The money I was promised for running drugs was never worth it. They weren't worth this broken body, nor my friend's life. We were duped. And now we were paying the ultimate price, each at a separate time.