If someone hadn't reminded him that the island master was arriving soon, I have no doubt he would've beaten me to death.
"Alright, Jacob, deal with this quickly. The island master is coming; don't sully his eyes."
Reluctantly, Jacob put down the stick but didn't give me any mercy. He grabbed my leg and dragged me away.
The gravel and sand on the ground rubbed against my face, leaving behind drops of blood. My face was cut and the burning pain from it made me tremble.
Amidst the agony, I heard someone shout, "Island master."
It's Travis! This is my last chance!
Gathering my strength, I dug my fingers into the ground and crawled forward bit by bit. Even if I could only buy a little time, as long as Travis saw me, I could escape this predicament!
"Travis … Tra ...."
Before I could finish, Jacob clamped his hand over my mouth. I used all my strength to hit him, but his hand was like iron. It did not budge.
"Is there something wrong?" Travis's voice rang out. The sound was so close.
Travis! I'm Quilla! Please … save me!
My tears rained down without stopping and my hands flapped everywhere. However, Jacob's hand still clamped over my mouth and he even tightened his hand.
No matter what I said, others could only hear muffled whimpers.
Nearby, Jacob's cautious voice sounded, "Island master, she is just a disobedient island slave, who prone to babbling nonsense."
Travis seemed intrigued, "Oh? What is she babbling about? Let her speak."
Jacob hesitated before slowly releasing my mouth.
I was so happy. I fumbled a few steps toward Travis. When I touched his clothes, I grabbed them tightly.
"Travis! It's me, Quilla!" I said.
However, there was only silence; the surroundings were eerily quiet.
A somewhat familiar female voice suddenly spoke. It was the sound of that crew member, "Ha, you're mistaking someone else for the island master, yet dare to claim yourself to be Miss Shepard."
As if scalded, I released the fabric, hurriedly saying, "I was hit on the back of my head; I'm blind now."
Then I asked, "Travis, don't you recognize me?"
I could hear the sound of footsteps came toward me and stopped in front of me. Then I could fell someone scrutinizing me closely.
Even without a mirror, I knew I must be horrible. After all, some of my hair had been pulled out, my face smeared with blood, one leg was cripple and one hand was broken.