Page 172 of Blue Moon

I moved the gear selector to reverse, pressed the gas pedal, and backed into a tree.

“Shit.” That happened faster than I thought.

“At least the dents match front and rear now,” Kacie said. “Uh, try turning the wheel next time.”

“Thanks for that gem of advice. I’d never have thought of it myself.”

Thirty seconds later, as I crunched slowly into a different bush, the back of the SUV sank downward, the front rose skyward, and my stomach lurched along with it. What the heck? I shoved the door open and peered out. Dammit! Where had that freaking hole come from?

“I hate driving! I’d rather walk everywhere.”

Kacie peered out at the ground four feet beneath us. “Well, now we don’t have much choice.”

“At least you’re not wearing a stupid dress.”

“I wish we had sneakers.”

Me too. How could I make it the rest of the way to Panguitch? My stupid leather sandals pinched my feet, and I’d been up the whole night searching for a freaking key. All I wanted to do was curl up in a comfortable bed and sleep for a month. And I was hungry. We’d brought snacks for the ride—potato chips, olives, chocolate—but we’d both skipped breakfast. How long would two litres of water last?

“Do you think there are bears here?” Kacie asked, squinting into the trees, and crap, I’d almost forgotten about the bears.

“How should I know? Do I look like a wildlife expert?” I sighed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap.” Think, Luna. Think. The reason we knew there were bears at the log mansion was that hunters kept shooting at them. Bang, bang, bang, bang. I didn’t hear any gunfire around here. Did that mean we were safe from being eaten alive? “Let’s cut through this gulch thing. I’m not walking around in the mountains getting lost all day.”

“I don’t want to get shot.”

“There’s nobody here. Look, see the way the grass is growing through the gate? They just put that sign up to scare people.”

“Are mines even safe?”

“We’re not going in the actual mine, dumbass. And there might be a radio somewhere. When you watch the movies, there’s always a shack with a radio in the middle of nowhere.”

“I’m not sure…”

“Okay, you stay here, and I’ll go on my own. C’mon, Rocky.”

My loyal dog trotted after me, tail wagging. He hadn’t had a proper walk for ages, so for him, this was the best day ever. I shouldered open one sagging gate, and I hadn’t gone fifty yards when Kacie ran to catch up, just as I’d known she would. This was definitely the best way to go.

The ground was rutted underfoot, and to my left, the rusted rails of an old track led to a yawning black hole in the side of the mountain. Definitely wasn’t going in there. I watched horror movies too, and that was where the monsters lived. Even Rocky tucked in behind me as we got closer. Bad vibes. There could be dead bodies in there. Or worse, live ones. Did bears really live in caves, or was that another lie cartoons had told to me?

“Is that a building?” Kacie asked.

“Where?”

“Over there, by the trees.”

There were trees everywhere, but I followed where she was pointing. A squat wooden hut stood half-hidden among spindly pines, the sides rotting away and the roof decidedly wonky.

“I’m eighty percent sure there won’t be a radio in there.”

“Even if there is, I doubt it’ll work.”

“Agreed, but there might be a bathroom.”

That third cup of coffee I’d poured down my throat before we left the log prison? I had regrets.

“If there is a bathroom, it’s probably a hole in the ground,” Kacie said.

“As long as there’s a door and no spiders, I’m good with that.”

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