Page 101 of Uncharted

“My ex had an Instagram account for Penny. Penny knows how to pose.”

Penny sits up behind Calvin and puts her paw on the other side, effectively giving him a hug.

“You’re not kidding.” I snap a few shots.

When the thunder rolls out over the ocean, Pepper lunges from Dante’s arms and scurries up the tree, leaps to the sleeping platform. I’m sure she’s ducked right into the little sleeping cubby that Zane made for her.

“We’ve got a few minutes before the rain pours down,” I say to Sam. I push Zane’s phone into my pocket and bustle around the camp, getting ready for the downpour. Things stay pretty much dry as long as we get everything in. We’re a well-oiled machine, with everyone taking charge of a certain area. Dante does the food tent, Zane and Easton get the windows in the sleeping area tightened down, Calvin secures the firewood, and I make sure that there’s nothing on the secondary platform that can’t get wet.

I’m up the ladder and tackling the living room platform in no time. We ate dinner up here when we got back from the boat. Zane spent the day at the treehouse standing on the observation platform, watching the never-ending empty ocean.

“Easton, here, take Penny.” Calvin hands her up to Easton. I move up to the other platform, gathering some cushions I had out earlier, tucking them back into their containers, and I have the empty dinner dishes in a basket to go down to the kitchen later.

When I look down at Sam, he’s standing there watching us all. His blue eyes catch mine. He gives me a small shrug and turns to Dante. I don’t know what he says, but Dante hands him a bucket, and he heads down the trail.

On the sleeping platform, Easton is watching me watch Sam. “He’s getting water,” Easton says before he turns back to helping Zane with the window.

“Right, but he’s only been to camp once,” I point out. “Maybe I should go with him?”

“He’s not going to get lost, Firefly. The trail is pretty trampled.”

I nod. He’s right. “But I think I should still go.”

Lightning flashes through the trees. Crap, I hate it. Even after months of the rainy season, I still hate it. The noise, the flashing—all of it. I always have. But as much as I hate it, I don’t want Sam to, I don’t know, feel unwelcome.

When Easton moves to the other side of the sleeping platform to help Calvin, I climb down the ladder and run along the path. Easton’s right—the path to the stream is really worn down and not from animals but from us. Sam should be at the first turn of the stream, but he’s not there.

“Sam.” I cup my hands and call out to him. I stop speed-walking and wait to see if he answers me, but there’s no reply. Now I’m full-on running. Easton said if you stay on the path, there’s no way to get lost. But if you head into the jungle because you see something... My heart pounds in my chest. “Sam,” I call again, but there’s no answer. My steps thud on the wet path. It hasn’t started raining yet, but it also hasn’t dried off from the last storm.

I stop. This isn’t how Calvin taught me. Observe, look, and listen. I push against my panic, panic of not knowing where he is, of not knowing about the storm. He’s only been out of my sight for a few minutes. I’m being silly.

“Sam,” I shout. The wind is picking up, and while the rain hasn’t started, the palm fronds are throwing the water from the last storm down on my head. I push down the path, way past the point where we stop to get our water, and I keep going.

The rain starts, small droplets at first, but I know what’s going to happen; they’re only going to get bigger. I’m almost at the waterfall. I don’t think I’ve ever come this far, this fast, or by myself. I turn back, and there are two black eyes peering at me.

Chapter44

Right of Way

Sam

Even over the rush of noise from the waterfall, I hear something. Haley! I drop the bucket and race down the path. Did she follow me? There’s no way I could hear her from all the way back at camp. Dante told me to be quick and that the waterfall was far, so it would be best if I just got water from the first bend.

My legs strain as I race toward Haley’s cries. I see the light brown-blond of her hair in the distance through the trees. “Haley.”

“Sam, stop. Don’t come any closer. There’s a boar.” Her voice is calm now. “It’s staring me down. Or I’m staring it down. I don’t know.”

I keep going. What in the hell is she thinking? She’s got a stick in one hand and a log in the other.

“Haley, Sugar... back up toward me. Slow steps. You’re doing great.” She’s right: if I get too close, whatever trance she has the wild animal in is all over. I move slowly and take the knife out of my waist holster. I’ve only thrown knives once with my brother when both of our boats happened to be in the same port in the Bahamas. But this is a whole different level. I keep it on me in case I have to cut a line more than anything. I’ve used it mostly for opening bags of potato chips.

“Sam, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but we need to climb a tree. I’m going for the one to my right. I think I can grab the lowest branch.” She pivots and takes a small step backward.

The boar grunts.

“I’m going to run on three. Are you ready?” Haley asks.

It’s not much of a plan, but me actually killing a boar on the first throw with the knife doesn’t sound like a good plan either.

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