Page 52 of Tattle Tail
“Camping. Not swimming,” he said.
“It’s not deep,” she said, willing to let it go.
She floated on her back. Let Joseph sit on the riverbank and be sticky and hot. Her muscles ached, not used to such intense labor. They removed floor panels in the cargo hold to patch the holes in the hull. The repairs would not be spaceworthy, but it would prevent wildlife from crawling inside the ship.
With her eyes closed, she let the water ease away the pain as the sun caressed her face.
Splashing water surprised her.
“Ugh, what is that between my toes?” Joseph said.
“Mud.”
He made a disgusted noise.
Still floating, she rolled her head to the side and cracked open an eye. “It is what happens when dirt comes into contact with water.”
“I expected sand. You know, sandy beaches.” Despite the mud, he continued to wade deeper into the water. Shirtless, she could see the fading red claw marks she left across his chest.
Pride swelled in her.
He paused, noticing her gaze, and flexed his arms. She laughed in amusement, then righted herself.
“I can teach you if you like,” she said, lazily treading water.
“I can float. I’m fine.” His arms and legs thrashed, but he kept his head above water.
“Are you?”
“I grew up in space.Space. Water is precious. We don’t go soaking in giant vats of it.”
Peaceable made a sympathetic noise. “How tragic to be so deprived when producing water from hydrogen and oxygen is a beginner-level lab experiment in school.”
He gasped in mock outrage. “You know what—” He swept his arm across the surface of the water, splashing her.
Peaceable splashed him back. Their legs tangled, and her foot slipped. She crashed into him, sending them both under the water.
She emerged, laughing, and wiping water from her eyes. Joseph grinned, his hair plastered against his skull. He pulled her close, his hands settling on her waist. She wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him down for a kiss.
This. This is what she needed at the end of a trying day.
The wind shifted. The world had gone silent. No birds. No buzzing insects over the water. Awareness pricked along the back of her neck.
“What was that?” she asked.
“What?” Joseph stilled, listening.
Chittering came from the undergrowth.
Joseph
What scuttled out from the tree line was pure nightmare fuel, a creature part-spider, part-crab, and entirely wrong. He had never seen one in person but recognized it from all the public alerts.
A mornclaw.
Peaceable stiffened beside him.
He had scanned for hostile lifeforms when they landed on the planet. None had been found, but that was three days ago. Clearly, the mornclaw was drawn by their scent or their noise, perhaps even the smoke of their campfire. He could kick himself for not paying more attention to the safety pamphlets that seemed to be literally everywhere on Corra.
