Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 68509 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68509 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
He’d gotten behind the waterfall?
Wait…
Had he found a hiding spot?
Could we just… pause for a bit? Rest?
A moment later, Wick came out from the side where I’d last seen him, beaming at me.
“Tell me you found somewhere for us to hide for a bit.”
“A nice, only slightly claustrophobic cave,” he said, dropping down to scrub the worst of the mud off his exposed skin. “Okay. Let’s go in case they’re snooping around. We can clean up more when we know we’re alone.”
With that, he took me with him across a small cliff of dubious strength, the rocks breaking and tumbling as we stepped off of them.
But before I could get too panicked about another fall, we were in front of the mouth of a cave.
“Yeah,” Wick said, watching my surprise. “We have to crawl in, but it opens up enough for comfort after. And the waterfall kind of makes a window to make it feel less tight.”
With that, he went in first. And when he didn’t get stuck, I figured I had more than enough room to move inside.
“I’ve never been in a cave before,” I said as I crawled in, then stopped on my knees to check out the space.
He was right. It wasn’t a large space. It was maybe all of eight feet long and wide with what looked like another small tunnel on the other side. Leading where? Who knew. I was a little more worried about what might live inside there.
“Thank God,” I groaned, dropping down onto my ass and leaning back against the cave wall, looking out through the waterfall.
“Where’s your shoe?” Wick asked as he lowered down next to me.
“The mud ate it.”
“Shit.”
“I know. Maybe we can fashion a shoe out of vines or something. Just so it doesn’t slow us down.”
Wick reached for his pack, pulling it between his legs, opening it, then pulling all the contents out, spreading them around us.
It was actually impressive how much he had in there.
“How much does that pack weigh?”
“It was about fifty pounds without the full water bag.”
And there I was, annoyed by the weight of my pack and the rub of its straps on my shoulders. When mine couldn’t have weighed more than ten or fifteen pounds. And that was only when we filled it with fruit and water bottles.
“What is all of this?”
“The basics: first aid kit, a multi-tool, paracord, flashlight, whistle, sunscreen, bug spray, a fire starter, dry bags, duct tape, trash bags, binoculars, the hammock, my clothes, a tiny sewing kit, my camera for evidence, the shower filter, and, of course, a small saucepan,” he said, picking it up and waving it at me.
“What are you looking for?”
“I think I can use the duct tape to make a passable shoe, but I’m seeing if I have anything that I could use to strengthen the sole.”
“Like plastic or something?”
“Yeah, that’d be ideal. But I don’t have any of that.”
“Hmm,” I said, feeling around. “I think there is cardboard in this,” I told him as I tried to bend the case, but it was stiffer than it should have been if it was just material.
Wick took it from me, using the tiny knife of his multi-tool to cut around the edges so he could pull the sheet of cardboard free.
“Lemme see your foot,” he said, and I put it on top of his leg so he could size me up. “These feet belong to a sprite, not a bounty hunter,” he said, seeming pleased that he could fold the cardboard in half to double its strength. “How many bras did you bring with you?”
“Why?”
“I figured maybe the straps would be a way to keep the shoes on your feet. Especially if we end up needing to run again.”
I rummaged in my backpack for the purple bra I’d been wearing on Isla Perdita.
“What’s up?” he asked when I stared at the bra.
“Doesn’t the island feel like a thousand years ago?” I asked. “Remember when I was bitching about plentiful fruit trees and endless water to clean off in?”
“We can go back after this, if you want. Or not,” he said when I shot him a look.
“I want one night in a luxury hotel room with endless soap and shampoo, a TV, tons of food and coffee, and a huge bed before I have to think about anything else.”
“I can make that happen,” he assured me. “Though I’ve gotten kind of fond of the hammock now.”
The heat in his gaze made a little fire spark inside me. But it was going to have to smolder out. Because I wasn’t touching anyone that caked in mud, or letting someone touch me when I was so filthy either.
“The hammock wasn’t as bad as I thought,” I admitted. We both knew I wasn’t talking about the hammock.
“I’m touched, duchess,” Wick said, pressing a hand to his chest. “Such high praise.”