Page 20 of Wild Life

My head swam and my lids drooped heavily as I lay in the hammock. I had spent all last night wide awake, tracking every suspicious noise from the bushes, expecting a bear to jump out at any moment and maul me to death.

I loved the outdoors. It was one of the reasons I had become a wildlife biologist. However, camping in a known environment with a team was completely different from roughing it solo in a location that possibly didn’t exist on any map. Needless to say, my anxiety was working overtime without pay and benefits, and she was not thrilled.

Sleeping by myself was the other issue. While I didn’t prefer it, I was capable of slumbering without sharing my bed, especially on work nights when the sex-then-snuggle dance impeded my schedule. However, right now, my mind was so dysregulated from too much unfamiliarity that it craved closeness. But I was not about to hop into bed with him just to quell my nerves. Forty-eight hours was too short a time to bed a Sasquatch. I still had standards. No cuddles without at least a coffee date first.

Fuck, I miss coffee.My head pounded harder at the memory of warm happiness in a cup.

If the night was noisy, the day was Grand Central Station. Birds cawed. Insects chirped. And the random sounds of branches snapping off trees ruined any chance for a nap.

I was losing my fucking mind. I was certain of it, too, because last night, I could have sworn I heard singing coming from inside the hut. It’d barely been audible over the breeze, but I had heard it. With no electricity to run a TV here and a silent stranger, where had it come from?

Maybe it was some weird paranormal energy or something inhabiting the island…like spirits. Spirits of people who had never escaped.Fuck.

They always said that the outfit you had on when you died became yourghost outfit.

I looked down at my once-white-now-light-brown Henley and dingy trekking pants against my sunburned skin. I was destined to be the ugliest ghost that had ever existed.Double fuck.

My latest crisis was interrupted by the hobbling pig and his owner carrying a large basket made of woven leaves and a long rod with a sharp end—kind of like the ones used for spearfishing.

My heart lurched in my chest. If my suspicions were correct, he would be going to the beach.

Jumping to my feet, I chased after him to catch up before he headed into the thicket. “Can I come with you?”

As per usual, he didn’t stop to answer, and I didn’t wait for an invitation. The beach would give me access to the coastline, and there had to be at least one boat passing by.

His brisk pace quickened, most likely as a means to lose me on the journey, but my determination energized me as well as one of the room-temperature energy drinks from the case on my office floor ever had.

“Do you fish often?” I happened to know firsthand that he still had plenty back at the hut. I may or may not have been double-dipping into the stash in the middle of the night. Chewy salted fish was my new fast-food restaurantfourth meal.

My brain worked overtime, mapping the terrain. My job was studying animals in their natural and unmanicured habitat, but this environment was too difficult to navigate even by professionals. Every turn appeared to be like the previous and every rock was indistinguishable. Only an inhabitant like Cryptid could recognize the way.

However, I was able to make out something rather curious on our left. A group of trees—three, to be exact—standing close together. It wasn’t the trees themselves that sparked my interest, but the markings on them. Tiny gashes covered the trunks, too deep to be organic.

These had been made using tools. Sharp tools. The kind that only a human was capable of employing.

“These marks are interesting. Do you know what they are?” I asked, stopping to run my fingers over the uneven lacerations.

Suddenly, my hand was yanked away by a big, rough one. His icy stare froze my lips shut. How was it this man who had never uttered one word could silence me with a look?

His calluses scraped my skin as he tugged me along, leaving the tick marks and their hidden meaning behind. So many secrets. Nothing about him was obvious; he was an impenetrable fortress of mystery.

Despite confusing the hell out of me, he brought my twisted mind comfort. I stared at our hands joined together, his large one swallowing up my small one, then closed my eyes for a moment, enjoying the security of his touch. Every nerve came alive, sending trills of heat up my arm. The most intimidating beast of a human somehow made me feel safe and, in some sick way, excited me. The lunacy of it was beyond my understanding, and a part of me blamed it on the deficit of touch I was currently experiencing. My obsessive desire to be connected to another human hadn’t been met since I had washed ashore. The deprivation only heightened my senses whenever he did touch me. And my body responded like that of a boy-crazy teenager, excited by a mere brush of skin.

My lunacy must’ve been showing because I realized we had stopped walking, and when I opened my eyes, I found him gazing at me with interest.

I retracted my hand.Oh, for fuck’s sake.My neediness had reached a whole new level ofweird.

I didn’t need him. I didn’t need anyone.I, Maris Schuler, can be alone!

One of his bushy brows lifted before he continued walking toward where the pig was grunting merrily ahead of us.

I marched along, this time crossing my arms over my chest, banning myself from his touch in the event I tripped or something and involuntarily reached out for the oaf.

We traveled in silence with nothing but the crunch of brush under our feet and the buzz of flies in our ears.

The air thickened and I was dripping sweat.

I preferred to work in clothes that covered my limbs to avoid falling prey to poisonous spiders. And since most of my work was usually done at night with the exception of setting up nets to catch bats, I could get away with being fully clothed and not suffocating like I was now. My vulva was officially chafing from wearing the same dirty pair of underwear. I wished I had enough courage to ditch them completely.

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