“What?” I feel the color drain from my face while nausea turns my stomach. I might be able to fish, as long as I don’t have to touch any worms and I get to let the fish go, but there’s no way I’ll be able to kill or clean a fish.
“I know you don’t eat meat, so I’ll show you different berries and mushrooms you can forage for.”
“Thank God.” I sigh in relief, and he grins at me before glancing toward everyone.
“Get dressed, then hit the woods. We need more firewood if we’re going to eat breakfast, and Blake and Maverick will be here in the next thirty minutes.”
As everyone heads into their tents, I walk toward Tanner, and he turns his full attention on me. Once I’m standing toe to toe with him, I shake my head. “Now I see why you need to go off radar for a few days after one of these trips. Is it always this exciting?”
“Not normally.” His gaze drops to my mouth, and his lips tip up. “But I’m not complaining about this trip.”
“Stop.” I laugh, shoving his shoulder before I start toward the woods. “We need to go gather firewood.”
“Is that code for ‘I want to sneak off with you and make out’？” he asks, following on my heels.
“No, it’s code for ‘I’m hungry,’” I say, then gasp when he takes my hand and spins me to face him.
“So you don’t want to kiss me again?” he asks, his warm breath brushing against my lips while my fingertips dig into his biceps.
“I guess one more kiss won’t hurt,” I whisper, looking into his eyes, sure that I’ll never get enough of his mouth on mine.
Chapter 9
CYBIL
Lost. I’m so freaking lost I spin in a circle as fear causes tears to burn the back of my throat. Tanner told me to stick to the tree line near the shore, so it’s my fault for not paying attention to my surroundings as I wandered with my eyes to the ground, foraging like he taught me to. Stopping in place, I close my eyes and try to listen for the sound of the group, hoping I can hear Lauren arguing with Oliver or Parker and Jacob joking about which one of them is going to catch the bigger fish. Hearing nothing but the sound of birds and squirrels running through the trees, I tip my head back and open my eyes. Through the canopy of trees above me, I notice the sky between the branches is starting to disappear as storm clouds roll in.
“You’ve got this. Just pick a direction.” I look around again, then decide to use the ever-efficient “eeny, meeny, miny, moe” tactic to help me choose which way I should go. I can’t use the branch-in-the-ground trick Tanner taught us, not that it would do much good right now if I did know how, because I don’t know what direction the river is and the trees are blocking out most of the sun. I spin in circles, stopping at four points; then, when I get to the “You are not it” part of the rhyme, I head to the left, since my hand is pointing in that direction.
I stop every once in a while to listen out for anyone who might be calling my name, but each time, I’m disappointed and even more freaked out when I don’t hear anything but the sound of my own panting breaths and nature.
Needing a moment to think about what I should do, I lean against a tree and take a drink of water as I look around. With the light dimming and rain beginning to fall, I know it’s going to get a lot colder pretty soon, so if I don’t come across anyone, I’m going to have to find a way to make a shelter for the night. Letting my head fall back against the tree behind me, I drag in a few deep breaths.
I know that freaking out is not going to help me right now, and neither is crying, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to do both those things.
Lifting my head when I hear a noise that sounds like someone is in pain or crying, I scan the area around me, trying to figure out where the noise came from. When I hear a deep whine, I bolt to my feet, and that’s when my heart seems to stutter inside my chest. No more than fifteen feet away is a mound of what I think is dirt at first, but I soon realize it’s a large elk with a huge rack sprawled out on the forest floor. Its chest is barely moving as it makes a sound I never want to hear again in my life.
Keeping to the trees, I tiptoe, trying to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to startle it, because I know that an animal in pain will lash out at anyone it perceives as a threat. Once I’m a few feet away on the opposite side of the huge animal, I peek around a tree and swallow hard when I see he has two very noticeable injuries—one just before his hind leg and another on his neck. Both of them are turning his brown fur a deep almost-black color. Not sure what to do, but knowing I can’t help him on my own, I scan the area, trying to decide which way I should go for help.