She makes a startled sound. “Magma. Put me down. This is really not necessary, I can?—”
“Shhhhh,” I tell her. “You can’t see and I can. Let me do this.”
She goes still. Then, slowly, some of the stiffness goes out of her, and she loops one arm around my neck. The warmth of her against my chest. The soft press of her hip. The brush of her breath against my collarbone every time I take a step. I lock my attention on the jungle and keep it there. On the spaces between the trees. On every sound within a half-mile radius.
I listen hard as I walk. So far, we’ve been lucky. We haven’t had one Red encounter since the male I killed, and we’ve mostly left the fighting behind us. The roars and screeches that chased us through the morning have thinned to almost nothing. Every now and then, a distant crash rolls through the canopy, or a screech tears across the sky, and Carla’s arm tightens around my neck until it fades. The remaining ferals must still be throwing themselves at the coastline, still trying to get off the island whilethe borders are in question. That will die down soon, and when it does, the ones who failed will come slinking back into this jungle, angry and beaten and looking for consolation. I only hope that we are long gone before it happens. I just need to get her to that castle.
I narrow my eyes at a tree I see in the distance and start toward it. As I get closer, it becomes apparent that it’s another strangler fig and a monster of a tree, too. I’ve spotted a few of them dotted through this jungle, their roots woven around long-dead host trees in thick, braided columns. Sometimes, when the host has rotted away entirely, there’s a hollow at the base that creates a natural den.
This one is the biggest I’ve seen yet. The root structure is wider than my office back at Draig, a knotted cage of wood climbing thirty feet before it disappears into the canopy.
I put Carla down at the base of it.
I circle the trunk, running my hands over the buttressed roots, and there, on the far side, low to the ground, I find what I was hoping for. A crevice between two thick root columns, a black mouth of an opening. Relief loosens my shoulders. I drop to my knees and sniff at the opening. Then I put my ear to the space, hearing nothing.
Good.
Lastly, after using my hands to widen the opening, I look up at Carla, who is squinting hard in the dark, trying to see what I’m doing.
“There’s a space beneath this tree. I’m going to check if it will work as a shelter for us tonight.”
“Under a tree?” She sounds like she doesn’t quite believe me.
“Yeah. I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Okay,” she whispers.
I look up at her, all covered in dried mud and grime, and wish I hadn’t. I take in the swell of her hips, and her full breasts,and force myself to look away because my dick is thinking about getting hard again.
Fuck it!
This is so damned irritating. I wish I could turn it off.
I pull in a deep breath and then work my way inside the small space. It’s a squeeze for someone my size, but the hollow opens up beyond the gap. Beneath me is a dry dirt floor and some dead leaves. It’s tighter than it looked from the outside.
There’s hardly room for two people, but it’s dry, and it’s hidden. We’ll have to sleep practically on top of one another. Not ideal, but it’ll have to do. It’ll keep us safe for the night. That’s what is most important.
I crawl out and turn to her. “It’s cozy. I need you to go inside while I go and search for food.”
She bends down and squints at the opening.
I have to look away because I want to stare at her ass.
What the fuck is wrong with me?!
“I’m not so sure about this.” She looks back at me.
“I need to find us food and water, Carla. I understand your concern, but I can’t leave you out here in the open. If one of them comes along…”
Her eyes widen with fear, and her heart rate kicks up a notch.
“I’ll cover the entrance with brush. No one will know you’re there. You’ll be safe until I come back.”
She holds my eyes for a second, and then she nods. She crouches onto all fours, her ass in the air, and my balls tighten.
I look away, my jaw tight. Anger churns inside me.
I’m an asshole.
