Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
EVIE
I woke on the fourth morning with rain still coming down and the deeply unpleasant knowledge that I was supposed to pack.
For several minutes, I ignored that fact and stayed beneath the mosquito net with the blanket pulled over my legs.
The air was cooler after the overnight rain, though cool in the rainforest was a relative term, and the damp smell of earth and vegetation drifted through the open side of the shelter.
Insects had started their morning noise sometime before I woke, birds called from different levels of the canopy, and something small rustled through the wet leaves beneath the platform.
Cat was already gone, which wasn't unusual. He often disappeared shortly before sunrise and returned sometime after I was awake, usually smelling like wet earth and whatever section of forest he'd decided required inspection before I wandered through it.
The darker leopard remained curled near the rear support with his head resting across one foreleg.
The amber-eyed menace was nowhere in sight either, and considering his recent history with my belongings, that immediately made me suspicious.
I pushed myself upright and checked the worktable before my feet even touched the floor.
My camera sat exactly where I'd left it, the radio remained beside the battery bank, the food pouch was closed, and the waterproof bag containing my clean lens cloths hadn't moved.
Everything appeared to be present, which somehow made me more suspicious. The radio crackled beside the cot before I could investigate further.
“Field camp, this is base. Morning check. And before you conveniently forget what day it is, you're supposed to come back today,” Mara said through the radio, her voice slightly distorted by static but clear enough to carry the warning hidden beneath the otherwise ordinary greeting.
I sighed and reached through the mosquito net for the handset. Mara knew me far too well.
“Good morning to you too,” I told Mara, pressing the transmit button while the darker leopard opened one green-gold eye from across the platform.
“Morning. Weather held better than expected. River's still fine, trail should be decent, and I should probably see you sometime before dark,” Mara replied through the radio, sounding far too cheerful about my scheduled return while faint voices carried behind her at the station.
“About that,” I told Mara, drawing the words out as I pushed the mosquito net aside and swung my legs over the edge of the cot. The silence that followed lasted long enough that I knew it wasn't the connection.
“No,” Mara replied flatly through the speaker, apparently deciding she didn't need to hear the question first.
“I haven't even asked anything yet,” I told Mara, offended enough that the darker leopard raised his head and turned both ears toward me.
“You said ‘about that’ in the voice people use when they're about to make their problem my problem,” Mara explained through the radio, and I could practically picture her sitting at the station with coffee in one hand and that unimpressed expression she reserved specifically for me.
“That seems unfairly judgmental,” I told Mara as I stood and stretched some of the stiffness from my shoulders, the damp morning air cooling the skin along my arms.
“It comes from experience. What do you want?” Mara asked through the radio, papers rustling faintly at her end as though she'd already accepted that this wasn't going to be a normal check-in.
I looked around the platform before answering.
The perfectly straight stick still leaned against one support because I'd lost that argument.
Two of the flowers the amber-eyed leopard had brought me were beginning to wilt in the metal mug, although the white one still released a faint sweetness whenever air moved through the shelter.
The feather rested beside my camera bag, and the darker leopard had finally risen to stretch beneath the edge of the roof.
I should have told Mara I was packing. Instead, my attention drifted toward the trail where Cat usually appeared.
“So... how attached are you to me actually coming back today?” I asked Mara, attempting casual and hearing exactly how suspicious I sounded. The silence lasted long enough that I glanced at the radio to make sure I hadn't lost her.
“Evie,” Mara finally said through the speaker, using my first name in the tone that usually meant she was deciding whether I'd suffered a head injury.
“Professionally speaking, the wildlife activity here has been ridiculous.
I got the tapirs yesterday, the monkey grove has been consistently active, and there are at least two trails I haven't had enough time to work properly,” I explained to Mara, crossing to the worktable while the darker leopard climbed onto the platform behind me.
“How much food do you have?” Mara asked through the radio, shifting from suspicious to practical without missing a beat.
“Enough for another three days if I stop pretending the tuna is gourmet cuisine,” I told Mara, pulling open the sealed food bin and checking the contents even though I'd already done it the previous evening.
“Water?” Mara asked through the radio, her tone clipped and efficient now that she was considering the request seriously.
“Filter's good, purification tablets are untouched, and both containers are fine,” I told Mara, running my fingers over the filter before closing the bin again.
“Batteries?” Mara asked through another light crackle of static.
“Solar setup is working, camera batteries are charged, radio battery is fine, and I have the spare,” I replied to Mara, glancing toward the small charging station near the edge of the platform.
“Medication?” Mara asked through the radio, the slight change in her tone telling me exactly what she meant without her needing to specify. I opened the waterproof pouch clipped inside my field bag even though I'd checked it the night before.
“Blockers are fine, emergency heat meds are fine, and I have more than enough of both,” I assured Mara, counting the packets before clipping the pouch securely back into place.
While Mara considered it, the darker leopard moved closer to the front steps and sat facing me with unnerving concentration.
Vegetation shifted beyond him a moment later, revealing Cat first, damp along his lower legs from wherever he'd been walking that morning.
The amber-eyed leopard followed several seconds later with a small purple flower held carefully between his teeth.
He'd found another one.
“How much longer?” Mara asked through the radio, pulling my attention back to the conversation. I looked at the three leopards and felt a ridiculous flicker of hope before I could talk myself out of it.
“Two nights?” I suggested to Mara, trying not to sound as eager as I suddenly felt. The amber-eyed leopard dropped the flower. His ears came forward, Cat stopped beside the platform, and the darker leopard's head lifted sharply enough that I narrowed my eyes at all three.
There was no possible way they understood enough of this conversation to know what two nights meant.
Probably.
“Two more nights, and you come back the morning of the sixth day,” Mara told me through the radio, emphasizing the return date as though she expected another round of bargaining.
“Deal,” I told Mara before she'd completely finished speaking.
“That was disturbingly fast. Try pretending you had to think about it,” Mara replied through a burst of static, amusement slipping back into her voice.
“I did think about it,” I told Mara, unable to keep the smile out of my voice as the amber-eyed leopard retrieved his flower and started toward me.
“Uh-huh. Same check-ins. If the weather turns, you're coming back early.
If the radio starts acting strange, you're coming back.
If you get hurt, bitten, lost, feverish, or decide that ‘interesting’ is a good enough reason to ignore common sense, you're coming back,” Mara warned through the radio, ticking off the conditions with the weary precision of someone who knew exactly which rule I was most likely to test.
“That last one seems unnecessarily specific,” I told Mara as the amber-eyed leopard deposited the flower beside my bare foot.
“It was written specifically for you,” Mara replied through the radio without hesitation.
“I'm touched,” I told Mara, crouching to retrieve the flower while the leopard sat proudly beside me.
“Seven-thirty and six. Don't make me send someone after you,” Mara warned through the radio, though there was enough warmth beneath the words that the threat lacked most of its force.
“I won't. Thank you,” I told Mara, letting the joke fall away because I meant it.
“Get good pictures,” Mara replied through the speaker, the warmth lingering even through the static.
“Always,” I promised Mara before releasing the transmit button and clipping the radio securely back into place.
The channel went quiet, leaving me crouched beside the platform with the flower between my fingers.
It was small and purple, with petals delicate enough that I had to be careful not to crush them and tiny drops of rainwater still clinging to their edges.
When I straightened, all three leopards were watching me.
“Congratulations. I'm staying two more nights,” I told the three leopards as I crossed to the metal mug and added the new flower beside the others.
Good, the amber-eyed leopard told me, stepping onto the platform with enough enthusiasm that the weathered boards creaked beneath his weight.
Good, the darker leopard agreed from beside the steps, his quieter response accompanied by a subtle loosening through his shoulders that I might not have noticed several days earlier.
Cat didn't say anything. He simply watched me from beside the platform, but his ears settled forward and some of the tension disappeared from his posture that I hadn't realized was there until it was gone.