Page 16 of Sheltering Instinct

“Exactly my thoughts.”

As Gwen emerged from behind the metal privacy wall, rubbing sanitizer over her hands, Tess draped her arm over her friend’s shoulder. “And this is why we get along so well.”

Gwen held a hand toward the trail, where tourists followed one behind the other like ants at a picnic. “I can taste an impending adventure. Are you ready?”

Chapter Five

Tess

Hot and thirsty, feeling inspired and happy, the women had filled their cameras with spectacular photos, and the tension of the journey eased into contentment as they traced their way back to the vehicle.

“Latrine?” Gwen asked as they passed by.

“No. I think I sweated out any extra moisture.” By habit, Tess reached out and gathered a handful of air, then rubbed her fingers together. It was something that Abraham had done back in their years of flight in Ghana. He taught her how to feel the air not just for changes in weather but for any shifting dangers that vibrated the wind.

Gwen tipped back the last drop from her plastic bottle. “Same. Which is a shame because there are no wait lines like this morning.”

Back at their tour vehicle, Otto was nowhere to be seen.

Tess tried the front door. “Locked.”

“Rude,” Gwen frowned.

“But he was nice enough to park under the only scrap tree in the parking area.”

“And right near the latrine. Both handy and unpleasant.” Gwen cupped her hands around the sides of her face, shielding her eyes from the glare so she could see into the back window. Slowly, she made her way around the vehicle, looking through each pane. “You’re not going to like this.”

Tess raised her brows.

“The driver’s not the only thing missing.” Gwen looked the tree over for camouflaged critters, then sat on the elevated root next to Tess.

“That doesn’t sound good. Do I want to know?”

“Water,” Gwen said on an exhale. “He didn’t bring the gallon-sized water jugs with us.”

“Surely you’re mistaken.” Tess got up to do her own inspection and sat down next to Gwen. “Man! I knew that I was recalling that Texas desert story for a reason. Well, that sucks.”

“Little bit sucks for us.” Gwen agreed, taking off her boot and holding it upside down. A stream of sand fell to the ground. “Sucks more for our group. The others who climbed Big Daddy had water bottles with them, but they were the little, lunchbox-sized ones.” She looked up. “The sun’s overhead.” Focusing on her boot again, Gwen gave it a vigorous shake.

“As soon as we gather up,” Tess said, taking off her own boot, “we need to make a beeline for the ranger’s station. Surely, they have an emergency water supply there. I didn’t see a gas station or store on the way in.” She licked her lips and tried not to think dry thoughts. “Did you know that at a hundred and eighteen degrees, you can die in about two days? It’s a pretty gruesome death.”

“See how quickly your imagination turns to survival scenarios? Put your mind to rest. There were rangers at the gate coming in here, remember? And there’s that little campsite to the right of the entrance. They had a plastic water tower. It's a thirty-minute drive, and we’ll have access to some there.”

As the group trickled back to the vehicle, they became aware there was no relief for their parched systems. Without the anticipated water, there was little energy among them. It was very quiet as the friends draped themselves over each other and waited for Otto to get back from wherever he’d disappeared to.

Would Tess hang on her friends like that? Opposite. The rule of thumb was to huddle in the cold and let the air move over you in the heat.

Eventually, Otto showed up.

Gwen asked him why he didn’t bring water out for a desert hiking excursion.

His answer was a silent look of disdain that he shot in her direction.

Frankly, Tess had become anxious about this man as soon as she scooped dinner into her mess plate the night before. The stories he’d regaled her with on the hours-long trip south had made her think at the time that he was a skilled adventurer. After that meal, Tess realized his stories were braggadocio.

Since the dinner, she no longer trusted him to know how to keep their group safe.

In their work with WorldCares—even though their job had a lot to do with data calculations—it was imperative that she and Gwen get out and see the environments that they were analyzing. They had to see what was happening on the ground with the people. What did they eat? How did they cook? What were the cultural norms that Tess and Gwen couldn’t look up in a book?

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