Page 76 of Wild Child
The pack lay on the ground next to him now. He slumped to the earth with his back to the tree where he had been standing. His profile glowered at the forest. In the bright light of day, he appeared pale. His eyes were drawn. Had the pixie dust before the fight aged him like this? Or had life been so unfair?
Whatever the answer, it didn’t matter now.
I lowered all the way to the ground near a cluster of bushes. Steve and Kimball were still visible through thick branches that sprouted small, clattering green leaves. The stream we’d used when we first camped lay across the meadow, so they wouldn’t walk past me to get water. Steve and Kimball shouldn’t see me unless they walked closer and searched the ground. I fervently hoped they didn’t.
Once settled, I waited for Devin to enact his part of the plan.
My heart thudded against my ribcage while the sounds of the forest filled my ears. This low to the ground, the dirt seemed to move. Tiny bugs crawled over mounds, roots, and pieces of rock at the end of the grass blades near the dry dirt. I turned my focus back to the two men. With concentration, I could make out what they said.
“He said noon,” Kimball snapped.
“What time is it?”
Kimball threw his hands in the air. “How am I supposed to know? Not noon. The sun isn’t high enough in the sky. I think,” he tacked on.
Steve tilted his head back to scrutinize the sky, then frowned at the dirt again. Who would they meethere? Kimball turned to face Steve, which gave me a full glimpse of his profile. Dirt marred his face and fatigue lined his eyes. Clearly, they had a few rough nights also, which wouldn't make them more amenable to me if they found me. I couldn’t bring myself to feel sorry for them.
“We wait as long as we have to wait,” Kimball muttered, more to himself than to Steve. “Which . . . whatever.”
Another silence fell. I lowered my chin so I could still see them if they moved, but didn’t have to hold my head up. Minutes passed. A lazy sun fell through the trees in a lattice of light that moved gently across the forest floor. Warmth rose from the ground while I entertained myself with dreams of pizza with cheese so thick it dripped off the sides.
A huge splash broke the quiet.
Trees rustled near the creek like crashes of thunder, jostled so hard the branches knocked into each other. Steve turned to look over his shoulder. Kimball straightened, and his head popped up like a gopher.
A deep, rumbling sound followed that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. A giggle threatened to bubble out of me, but I held it back by sheer willpower. Devin used that same growl as an imitation of a bear to play pranks on his sister, Kendra, when we camped with his family. He’d prowl around outside her tent and shake it with that sound in the middle of the night. Her shrieks of fear—then sisterly rage—echoed in my memories now.
“What was that?” Kimball hissed.
Steve paled further. I rolled my lips together and wondered if this wild desire to burst into laughter was a sign of lost sanity. I wanted nothing more than to laugh until my stomach hurt, despite the tension in the air. Devin and I had one shot to get those keys. I couldn't mess it up with amusement.
They paused, and another long silence followed. My levity faded as I realized just how many ways this patched-together plan maynotwork. Another cluster of trees rustled, these a few paces closer. Steve rose, then stumbled back.
“That damn bear!” he cried. "The one Neils spoke about."
“Shut up, you idiot!” Kimball muttered. “That bear wasn’t real.”
Kimball also rose to his feet and started to back away. Another guttural, rolling sound from the bushes followed. My stomach ached as I held back another laugh. It sounded like Devin grunted as he choked on a bone. But they didn’t notice the awkward, strangled sound. Instead, they kept backing away.
Neither of them remembered the pack.
The same clump of trees trembled again. Devin lay on the ground, just like me, while he made it appear that something ominous stalked toward them. Steve jolted when his back ran into a tree. He let out a cry and scrambled farther away. I inched forward. The pack was at least fourteen feet away, but they retreated and I advanced with every second. Since it lay on the ground, I had a very vague hope of drawing it away before they noticed it was gone.
Kimball stopped, almost fifteen feet away from where they had been. He paused, gaze tapered, when Devin gave another low growl. I forced my body to continue to crawl. Disbelief that this had worked so far hurried me along. I doubted they'd fall into our hands this easily for long.
“I can’t see it,” Kimball muttered. “Can’t be a bear. We’d see it . . . right?”
“Cubs?” Steve asked.
Kimball’s expression darkened. “Hope not. Go take a look.”
“You take a look.”
“You want him to freak out if something happens to me? He’ll blame you and kill you.”
“Why would he kill me? He doesn't care about you.”
Kimball muttered something while I closed another three feet between me and the pack. Eight feet left and they hadn’t noticed me yet. Devin let out another growl, but this time Kimball’s alert stare became more suspicious. When nothing jumped out to attack them, their immediate fear faded.
