ChapterTwenty
Sunny sat cross-legged on the ground and pulled her portable camp stove out of her pack while Davis paced down the tunnel shooting off their landing spot… again. They’d already searched the space and found nothing but a broken lantern and a jumble of boulders completely blocking the exit. She glanced up at the hole they’d fallen through. Not much could be seen except the soft yellowish blue sky left from the midnight sun through the small opening. At least it wasn’t raining.
Focusing back on the task at hand, she unwrapped one of her emergency fuel packets of twigs and lint, just enough to heat one small pot of water. She only had three more packets, so if they didn’t get out soon, they’d be eating her freeze-dried meals crunchy. Grabbing her canteen, she cringed as she remembered their supply of water. They might run out of it before they ran out of food.
She shook her head and focused on facts. There wasn’t any use spiraling down the We’re-Going-To-Die Trail. That wouldn’t help the situation and would lead to stupid decisions.
Davis’s frustration roared from the tunnel, followed by something smashing against the wall. She hated that he thought this was his fault, like his superhuman military training should have warned him the earth was unstable. They’d been walking over land exactly like the ground above all day without it opening up like some horror movie to swallow them whole. A shiver slid down her spine like a seal on ice.
“Stop it, you ninny,” she whispered to herself.
She’d been in similar situations while climbing. Granted, her climbing group had been equipped with homing beacons and the hope of rescue, but that didn’t change the facts. If she wanted to survive this, they needed to economize their actions and their supplies. She closed her eyes to the headache pounding behind them and rubbed her fingers over her forehead.
“Davis.” She barely spoke above a whisper.
She needed his help to figure out their situation. Her head hurt too much to do it on her own. Plus, his stomping and grunting only increased her dread. When he didn’t come, she tried a little louder.
“Davis.” Her voice cracked, and his footsteps rushed toward her.
She warmed at the thrill he’d hurry to her side with just her saying his name. The worried crease in his forehead and panicked look in his eyes as he emerged from the tunnel chilled the blush. This man held so much grief and responsibility on his shoulders. She didn’t want to add any more, yet they had to figure out their supplies and a rationing schedule.
She forced a smile to ease him. “I need your help organizing things. My brain’s a little too tired to think it through.”
“Well, that’s easy.” He pushed his hand through his hair, then motioned to the packs. “You get it all.”
She rolled her eyes. “Davis.”
“I’m serious.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“I’m just as stubborn.” She lifted her eyebrow to him.
“Yeah, but I’ve had training in going without.”
“Just drop it, Fields.” She shook her head, winced, then pulled more gear from her pack. “I’m dividing our supplies, whether or not you help. If you don’t use your half, fine. It’ll be waiting for the next poor soul that falls down here.”
Infuriating man and his chivalrousness. Yanking out her phone, she turned it on, ignoring the huffing and heated glare hitting her from above. He kept forgetting, thanks to her brothers, she was impervious to cranky men. What they needed was music, something to relax them, maybe dispel the despair, even for a moment.
When the phone powered up, she tapped on her favorite playlist. The peppy intro for Woody Herman’s “Woodchopper’s Ball”filled the cavern, instantly lifting her spirit. She closed her eyes, letting the music wash over her. Her shoulders swayed and knee bounced to the happy beat.
She set the phone aside, now ready to tackle the harrowing job of rationing. Davis growled and mumbled something under his breath. Then he plopped down next to her and jerked his bag to him.
“What was that, dear?” She leaned her face toward him and batted her eyelids.
“Oh, nothing. I’m agreeing with you.” His false cheer had her eyes slitting.
“Really. About what?”
“About you being hardheaded.”
She laughed, then cut it short, placing her hand on her head. “Oh, don’t make me laugh.”
“I should check you again.” Davis’s playful tone fled with the mention of her injury, and she mentally chided herself for reminding him of it.
“I’m fine. Really. Just a nasty headache is all.” She leaned closer before adding, “Now, my lips, on the other hand, might need examining. They’re cold.”
He froze, his exasperation shifting to desire and sending tendrils of heat rushing along her nerves. He lifted his hand, curled his fingers around her chin, and ran his thumb over her lips. Though he didn’t move closer, the space between them filled until it was hard to breathe.
“You’re right,” he whispered, never taking his eyes off her mouth. “They are chilled.”