Chapter 2: Isla De Tayun (2)
Security had been reinforced, and within the day, more boats full of men with guns arrived to patrol the resort and surrounding areas. Nova clutched at her waist, a white shawl over her shoulders. The weather was humid and hot, but there was a chill that wouldn't leave her bones as she watched everything unfold from the reception.
Some of the men returned, all geared up in some type of black combat gear. Unlike the first lot of security, these were some sort of privately hired militia, their identities concealed by balaclavas and tinted tactical goggles. Their rifles resting in their gloved hands. They must be sweating like pigs in all that gear.
It should have made her feel better, safe, and protected. It did not. The look in those men's eyes before they'd stepped into the shadows remained with her. The image of those who had been killed—speared like animals—would always remain with her.
Nova stared at the luxurious reception with its sleek, marble-topped reception desk standing at its centre, plush sofas arranged in inviting clusters, a hammock swayed gently from the ocean breeze, positioned perfectly to overlook the breathtaking view of the beach. The space was open, with no walls or glass to separate from the elements or, in this case, a potential attack from the natives.
It should have been as relaxing and inviting as it appeared, but the deaths of those workers, those men that had killed them so easily, made it seem hollow, the beauty masking the horrifying events.
The leader of the tactical team of ninjas or whatever they were spoke in a hushed tone to Chad. He was a stern-looking man with a 'no nonsense' look to his fine-lined features. She still managed to hear the end of the discussion. They didn't discover anyone in the surrounding areas and only followed his orders to venture further into the rainforest.
Chad signalled him to do exactly that, waving the man off like he was some pesky bug. The man's expression didn't change as he spoke into his earpiece like he was used to rich, entitled men treating him in that manner. The man marched away, his boots thudding against the shiny wooden floors.
Nova's attention returned to her boyfriend, who she was starting to find more and more unattractive. Not his looks. His personality. Had she really not noticed this after two years together? No, she was being too quick to judge. This was a stressful situation, people's lives had been taken.
"How many times has this happened? You said that sign was a prank," Nova asked, stepping forward, unable to hold back her thoughts.