Page 10 of California Sunshine

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“All right, Belle, I can be reasonable,” he says, stepping closer and holding out his hand. “You can give me your phone while we make up the time to backtrack and hike those two precious miles, or we can head north to the next trailhead. Either way, we’re heading for Combs Peak.”

Damn it, he knows where to hit me. “Fine,” I grunt out, yanking my straps tight and heading north after him. I only make it a few steps before a hand slips into mine.

“I told you. You’re coming with us,” Nova whispers to me. “And I meant what I said. I’ll lick you if I have to.”

An awkward snort leaves me as I squeeze Nova’s hand. And oh, the look he gives me. It promises me I’m in for a fun trip, one way or another.

Lucky for Grinder, there’s not much worth taking pictures of for my research, though I get a nice landscape shot for Rachel’s Instagram feed. Well, my Instagram feed, I guess. But Nova’s begun pulling his phone out to snap a few pics of his own, offering to swap with me.

Once we reach the trail again, we go back and forth across a small trickle of a creek a few feet wide. The map says it’s called Agua Caliente, which I think is Spanish for hot water. Yet it’s cool enough—and refreshing enough—to me when I reach down and soak my bandana in it to wipe some of the day’s grime from my head and arms.

Continuing on, Nova and I both groan as we pass a large campsite, complete with metal fire pits, picnic tables, and even an outhouse. Sure, they smell like shit, but it beats squatting. Still, Grinder keeps going, and we keep following.

An hour later, we finally drop our packs at our campsite. I rush to pull out my trowel and toilet paper before running into the brush. Yeah, the greasy burger went right through me. Grinder notices and chuckles as I head out of camp to find a bit of privacy. Asshole.

It was still worth it, though.

Oh, so worth it.

Day 7:

Table Mountain

2,499 Miles To Go

Grinder, because even my friends call me that

I let out an exasperated sigh. The Terwilliger Valley to the west of us wouldn’t interest me if it wasn’t for the darkening sky above it. Behind me, the princess is telling Nova all about alluvial fans. Something about earthquakes and erosion and shit I don’t care about. I’m here to hike. If I wanted to learn about that stuff, I’d turn on the Discovery Channel. We’ve already stopped for five different species of flowers. Twice for a poppy. Not that Casanova gives a shit. He’s lapping it all up like a golden retriever, following Belle around, tongue lolling. You’d think he was hitting that, but I know he isn’t. Tent walls don’t muffle sound.

Bats appears in my peripheral vision, and I grunt in acknowledgment. “What’s up? You look extra agitated,” Bats says. I cock an eyebrow at him. “You know what I mean.”

I hazard a glance back toward Belle and Nova. Then shake my head as I return my focus to the sky. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Bats lets out a long, irritated growl. It takes a lot to get him irritated. Maybe Belle’s constant distractions are getting to him too. Except Bats is always full of surprises. Today included. “She’s not the problem.”

I scoff. “Don’t tell me you’re on the Belle bandwagon too.”

Bats looks at her. She’s pointing out color bands in the stone that are supposed to mean something. I don’t care. To me, it means we’re not walking, and that’s a problem.

“Maybe I am,” Bats replies a minute later. “Or maybe the problem started before we got on the trail.”

My gaze snaps back to Bats. I’ve known him since I moved into his neighborhood before fourth grade. We hit it off from the start and have done everything together since. Every camping trip, hike, and trek. He can read me like a book sometimes. Hell, he reads me better than I read myself some days. But what the fuck? “What’s that supposed to mean?”

It’s Bats’ turn to cock an eyebrow at me. “Sure you want to get into it here? On the side of a mountain? In front of Belle?”

Bats has a point, but it’s going to gnaw at me until we get some private time. Knowing him, he did it on purpose. Asshole. I choose to change the subject because we have more pressing matters than whatever Bats thinks my problem is.

I nod toward the clouds on the horizon. “You seeing that?”

Bats turns, stares for a moment, then nods. “Weather front. They happen.”

“There’s a lot of gray in those clouds. Looks like it stretches pretty far north.”

Bats’ face scrunches up. “What are you thinking?”

I chew the question over for a moment. Those could be normal, fluffy clouds. On the other hand, they could be more. A lot more. Bats’ weather service radio wasn’t clear. It’s still giving us reports for Warner Springs. I pull out my phone and open my maps app. Scrolling ahead, I spot a potential answer. “I need more information,” I tell Bats, putting my phone back in its pouch. I turn toward Belle and Nova. “Are you two done over there? We need to take a detour.”

Belle pauses her geology lesson. “You want to take a detour?”

I level a glare at her. “Don’t worry, princess. I’ll buy you a cheeseburger. We need to get going, though. Minimal stops this time.”

“Seriously?” Nova replies, annoyed with me. I level what I hope is a telling glare at him. Nova hasn’t known me as long as Bats. We met him when we got into high school, but he knows me well enough. “Sorry, Belle. It’s going to be one of those days. Best to go with it.”

Belle looks confused by the sudden change. Her eyes flick toward the sky behind me for a moment before a look of understanding crosses her face. “You’re setting the pace, I suppose?”

I grin. “What? Don’t think you can keep up, princess?”

She cocks a brow at me. “Don’t you want to know, Gaston?”

For a brief moment, there’s a flash of something other than agitation in Belle’s eyes. I don’t know why, but the corner of my mouth turns up in a smirk. What the fuck? I turn away to start back along the trail before I can think too much into it.

***


Tags: Chris Mor Thriller