Chapter Twenty-One
EVIE
The problem with having several thousand usable photographs was that it became much easier to notice what I didn’t have.
I sat at one of the station tables the next morning with my laptop open in front of me, yesterday’s memory cards already backed up twice, and three folders spread across the screen while my coffee cooled beside my elbow.
The waterfall had given me more than I expected: birds, monkeys, reptiles, the agouti, wider environmental shots, and enough changes in the light that I could probably spend an entire afternoon sorting through everything without reaching the end.
Some of the photographs were good enough to stop me for a few seconds before I moved on, which usually meant they would survive the harsher judgment that came later when I started narrowing thousands of frames down to the few I actually wanted.
What I had much less of was the forest during the hours on either side of darkness.
Most of my routes brought me back toward the station before sunset, and the mornings I had started early still involved enough travel that sunrise was well underway before I reached some of the better habitat farther out.
I clicked through another group of images before opening the shot notes I had been keeping for the assignment.
Several unfinished sections stood out immediately: upper stream, old-growth corridor, dusk activity, early-morning activity.
I had observations, possible locations, and species notes beside each one, but nowhere near enough photographs to match them.
Mara stopped beside the table with a fresh cup of coffee in one hand and leaned closer to see what had held my attention for so long.
“You find a problem?” Mara asked as she rested her free hand against the back of the empty chair beside me, following my gaze toward the upper-stream notes.
“A gap.” I answered Mara as I scrolled through the folder again, stopping on a daytime photograph from the area before moving to the next.
“I’ve got plenty from the middle of the day, but almost nothing from that zone at dusk.
By the time I hike out there in the morning, I’m missing the best part of the early light too. ”
“Then stay out.” Mara suggested as casually as if she had told me to switch lenses, taking another drink while she continued studying the screen. I turned toward her and waited, half expecting a second half to that suggestion that never came.
“What?” I asked Mara when she simply took another drink of coffee.
“Stay overnight.” Mara tapped one finger against the upper-stream section of my notes before straightening. “You’ve done overnight fieldwork before.”
“Not in that section.” I reminded Mara as I shifted in my chair, although my gaze had already moved toward the folded map sitting near the other side of the table.
“That doesn’t make it illegal.” Mara replied dryly as she reached for the map and pulled it toward us, nearly trapping the corner of my notebook underneath it.
“If you’ve got somewhere safe enough to sleep, enough supplies, and radio coverage, it makes more sense than coming all the way back here tonight just to turn around before sunrise and walk most of the same route again. ”
I helped her flatten the map between us.
The upper-stream corridor sat farther west, running through an older section of forest where the canopy grew dense enough that the quality of the light changed dramatically depending on the hour.
I had worked pieces of it already, but never continuously from late afternoon into the following morning.
There was also a field shelter within reasonable distance, the same one I had used before.
It had a cot, a roof, enough protection from the weather to make an overnight comfortable by field standards, and a radio signal I already knew worked.
Mara knew the shelter existed, knew I had stayed there, and already had it connected to my previous routes. Using it again wouldn’t be unusual.
Then my gaze moved across the broader working zone.
The temple sat inside it too.
Luca’s words from yesterday came back almost immediately.
Save tomorrow for me.
That changed the possibilities a little.
“You’re thinking very hard for someone I just gave a simple solution to.” Mara observed as she set her coffee beside my laptop, watching me long enough that I became aware of whatever my face was doing.
“I was figuring out where I’d sleep.” I told Mara, which was true as I traced the route toward the field shelter. “The same shelter I used before would work. It’s not right on the upper stream, but it’s close enough.”
“Radio worked there last time?” Mara asked as she bent over the map again, apparently satisfied with that explanation.
“Yeah. Better from the platform than from the lower trail.” I answered Mara as I pointed toward the general location. “I could work the stream through late afternoon, head back there before dark, then leave early enough to reach the upper section around sunrise.”
“You’d be doubling back some.” Mara pointed out as she traced the distance between the shelter and the northern section I wanted to photograph.
“Not enough to make the overnight pointless.” I answered Mara, although now that she had marked the route with her finger, I could see exactly how much early light I would lose.
“Your call.” Mara straightened and picked up her coffee again. “If you want the overnight, I’m fine with it. You know the shelter, you know the route, and the weather isn’t supposed to do anything dramatic.”
I looked toward my notes again. Dusk. Dawn. The two parts of the assignment that were still noticeably thin, and now I had a simple way to fix them without wasting most of the morning walking.
Luca had also asked for today.
“Yeah.” I answered Mara as I made the decision. “I want to do it.”
“All right.” Mara pulled the field log closer and flipped to the current page. “Go get whatever you need, and then we’ll log it properly.”
By the time I returned with my overnight pack, Mara had carried the map to the outdoor table, where one corner kept trying to curl in the morning humidity.
“General working zone stays between the stream and this ridge?” Mara asked as she traced the route west from the station with the capped end of her pen, tapping the boundary I had marked before looking toward me.
“Mostly. I might work a little farther north along the water if something gives me a reason to, but I’m not crossing the ridge.
” I answered Mara as I pointed toward the same line, giving her enough information to know where I should be without trying to predict every turn I might take once I was actually out there.
“And the field shelter is still your sleeping plan?” Mara asked as her pen moved toward the familiar marker farther south.
“That’s the plan right now.” I answered Mara as I adjusted one of the straps on my overnight bag. “If I find somewhere better closer to where I’m working, I’ll still be inside the marked zone.”
“Fine. I don’t need the coordinates of the exact tree you sleep under.” Mara wrote another note beside my name before moving down the page. “Radio at six tonight. Update me before you start back tomorrow morning, and I want you here by ten unless you call with a change.”
“Six tonight, update before I head back, and back by ten.” I repeated the schedule to Mara while checking the radio clipped securely to my belt.
“And if the radio gives you trouble?” Mara asked as she lifted her eyes from the log.
“Locator if it’s an emergency. If it isn’t, I move until I get a signal and try again.” I tapped the outer pocket of my pack where the beacon sat within easy reach.
“Food, water, medication?” Mara asked as she glanced toward the overnight pack, working through the familiar list without making me unpack it in front of her.
“Dinner, breakfast, emergency rations, two full bottles, purifier, tablets, blockers, emergency heat suppressant, and the usual first-aid kit.” I counted off the basics for Mara before resting one hand on my camera bag.
“Spare radio batteries, six camera batteries, power bank, and enough memory cards that the batteries will give up first.”
“So if you get stranded because your camera dies, I’m leaving you there.” Mara informed me as she capped her pen, the seriousness in her face giving way to dry amusement.
“That seems unnecessarily cruel.” I told Mara as I slid the camera strap over my shoulder and checked the zipper covering my spare batteries.
“You’d survive.” Mara lifted her coffee and looked pointedly at the pack behind me. “You packed half the station.”
“I packed for one night.” I protested to Mara as I settled both straps over my shoulders and shifted the weight until it stopped dragging backward.
“You packed for one night like the forest might close permanently behind you.” Mara took another drink while her gaze traveled over the size of the bag.
“I like options.” I told Mara as I clipped the last loose strap into place. Mara gave the equipment one final inspection before the humor around her eyes faded.
“Evie.” Mara said my name more seriously, lowering the mug.
“I know.” I answered Mara before she needed to finish the reminder, resting one hand against the camera strap crossing my shoulder. “Six means six.”
“Good.” Mara nodded once, apparently satisfied. “Get whatever shots you’re chasing and come back with all your limbs attached.”
“That’s less professional than your last warning.” I told Mara as I stepped away from the table, smiling when she lifted her coffee toward me.
“I’m adaptable.” Mara replied as she leaned back against the table.