Now onto our Friday flash series. Hope you're enjoying it so far.
He was geeked up, bouncing around and talking so fast that his accent made him almost unintelligible. He was saying something about a plan and a sprint and I had to calm him down.
"Stop jumping," I told Johanssen, my hands on his shoulders pinning him to the ground. He started shaking his head from side to side like a boxer getting ready for a fight.
"I have a plan," I think he said. "I'll run straight there." He pointed toward the gap between the mountains in the front of the camp. It was at least a half-mile away and all of us -- Tucker, Wicker, Carlson, and myself -- just shook our heads.
"He'll never make it," Wicker whispered.
"Nope," Carlson said.
"Then I run through the gap. I can get there I am free."
Johannsen twisted and his back let out a loud crack. Tucker winced.
Johannsen got down like a sprinter with one hand on the ground and looked up at us.
"Someone tell me to go. Play like you are a gun. Say bang."
The four of us looked at each other. Wicker said "Bang" and Johannsen sprang forward.
But none of us could look at Johanssen after they brought his body back. We assumed he looked like all the others. A crooked near grin. A rash on his cheek from the sliding across the rough sand. Likely one arm turned into his chest. His eyes opened wide, staring into the distance.
But none of us looked so we couldn't say for sure. We just played cards. I had three crudely drawn queens. One looked like a man except for the lipstick someone had drawn on with the red pen they had given us early on. The other two had long hair.