The forest seemed to stretch on indefinitely.

The smell of rotting flesh was all but gone, but what lingered was a distinct smell of Sulphur in the woody atmosphere. Isabelle couldn’t imagine anyone possibly inhabiting such a remote and murky place.

The forest was without a noise or bustle. Only a frequent rattle of the bush or the sway of the tree broke the silence from time to time. But this time it was the sound of a man.

“I think it’s about time…” Edward chanted as he came to an abrupt stop. He puffed up his lungs and prepared his vociferous tongue. He shouted:

“We know you're behind the bushes! There’s no point in hiding! Come on out!”

His voice had such a commanding tone that even Isabelle’s heart jumped a beat. However, his voice was not in vain, because sure enough, tribes of people flocked out from hiding from all sides, and in a matter of seconds what seemed to be an empty jungle, now bustled with human life. The only thing was that these humans weren’t much different from animals. They exuded a malicious air. Isabelle leaned closer to Edward.

One of the tribal men slowly stepped forward establishing his unrefuted authority. He wore a tooth like steel-pendent which shone with a brilliant silver hue. He was bare-chested and instead of having any remnant of the blue hospital gown, he instead wore spotted shorts.

He held a spear, or what seemed to be a spear, made from a fallen tree branch that was keened at one edge. All eyes peered at the two defenseless souls at the center. Then without warning the speared man jumped at Edward eccentrically. Somewhat expected, both of them toppled onto the ground with a painful thud. The struggle continued, in the hollers of the other tribal men, until there came a sharp, almost deafening sound. It sounded like a gunshot.

Everyone froze in their tracks. Even the man with the spear stopped flinching at this dissonance.

Isabelle looked towards the sound’s origin as Edward defaulted back to his knees. Instead of just a gun, she saw a rotund man of enormous proportions- the fabric of his brown T-shirt tearing at its seams- holding a revolver aimed point-blank at Edward’s temple. Fear seeped through her spine as she stammered to say hesitantly,

“H-He’s got a g-g-gun!”

“Not just any gun...” said Edward regaining his composure “A .44 mm Magnum-Revolver, Six-barrel revolving rounds with enough kickback to stun an average man, but enough firepower to kill one up front.”

The portly man fretted a bit at Edward’s accuracy of observation, but nevertheless affirmed his position. He started in a deep and uninviting voice:

“I believe there is something you have that I want.”

Isabelle was quick to reply “We are new to this game, we don’t have anything—”

“BBBAAANNNNGGG!”

Her pleading was cut short by the deafening roar of the Magnum. The bullet grazed her cheek leaving a thin streak of blood. The numbness of the bullet graze paralyzed her body.

“Don’t try to fool us! We’re obviously talking about your Item Cards, hand them over!”

Isabelle was now as confused as she had ever been. What ‘card’? They had nothing of the sort. She continued pondering over the thought until she checked the back pocket of her blue gown. Her bandaged hand was numbed by the glass shard and couldn’t feel a thing. But as it had healed over the walk, she could make out the rectangular shape of a thin plastic card affirmed carefully in her back pocket.

It wasn’t there before. Had she missed it?

“The clocks ticking gal, and you for too Mr. Talkative. I’ll give you till the count of three to hand over your Item Cards….One!”

Her mind went hazy by the shock of the bullet wound. Her body wasn’t listening to her. Her hand failed to move.

“Two…” The portly man pointed the nozzle in estimated proximity of the girl and squeezed the trigger tighter.

“And THREE!”