Page 6 of Eco-Activist's Mountain Men
"Nope. Nothing."
"That’s weird."
"Whole thing’s weird, boss. She must have a bag with her. Can’t find it now in this storm, but maybe we’ll spot it in the morning."
"Right, yeah. In the morning… meantime, what do we do about her?"
"No idea, boss. Can’t she just stay in the medi-bay?"
"I guess so. Guess she’ll have to."
"Guess so, boss. You okay, boss?"
I can’t be sure, but I feel myself blushing deeper. Has he seen through me? Guessed the turmoil? I've never told a soul about those dreams.
I turn to leave. As I do, he suddenly grabs my sleeve and looks me deep in the eyes.
"I know she’s pretty, boss. But don’t go falling for her. Not yet, boss. Not until we know who she is."
Once again, heat rises to my cheeks. "I have no intention offallingfor anyone, Luke." I pull my arm away and head to the door, trying to look dignified instead of humiliated. It doesn’t help when I trip over a screwdriver on the floor and nearly stumble out of the shed, having to use both hands to steady myself in the doorway.
"Jesus Christ!" I blurt out by accident.
"Sure thing, boss. Don’t worry, I've got your back," he tells me quietly as I back out of the shed.
The door swings shut behind me, leaving me alone in the storm. The howling wind and pounding rain are getting worse by the moment. Another sheet of lightning lights up the sky, the buildings, and the forest for a fraction of a second.
I’m glad someone’s got confidence in me. ’Cos right now I’m running pretty low on it myself.
CHAPTER 3
Luna
Ismile and stretch in my comfortable bed. Sunlight streams in through the window, and a light breeze billows the curtains. A crystal dangling from a thread in front of the glass catches the light and scatters it across the walls, flashing and sparkling like a shoal of silvery fish, playfully darting in and out of their coral reef home.
I smell… bacon? That’s weird. The house I share in Portland is strictly vegan—no meat allowed. But that’s definitely bacon. Unmistakable. And it smells delicious. I know I’m supposed to say it makes me nauseous, but honestly? The smell of frying bacon has to be in the top three scents in the world, right up there with fresh-ground coffee and sunbaked earth after a storm. Of course, I’d never admit that to my comrades. I usually swap bacon out for fresh-cut grass, which comes in at number four. But I’m not about to lie to myself. At least I’ve got enough integrity for that.
I also feel a dull, throbbing pain in my right wrist and my left ankle. Strange… why would they hurt? I guess I must’ve slept in some weird position and cramped them.
I yawn and stretch—and freeze. Something’s pressing against me. Warm. Firm. Not a blanket—too solid. I nudge it gently…and it pushes back. I glance down the bed and—to my horror—see the head of what has to be the biggest wolf I’ve ever laid eyes on. It’s massive. Two yellow eyes stare at me, unwavering, unblinking, unreadable—almost dismissive. Then it opens its mouth and yawns.
Its teeth are fucking enormous, like something straight out of Jurassic Park. I let out a bloodcurdling scream—more in shock and surprise than actual fear. The wolf only stares with what looks like a supercilious smirk, as if it knows something I don’t. Then, with slow, dignified grace, it unfurls from the bed, leaps down to the floor, and pads out through the open door without so much as a backward glance, like it’s saying, I’m not putting up with this nonsense.
A door slams somewhere nearby, and I hear heavy footsteps rushing closer.
"What the hell’s going on in here? Are you okay?"
A man—a complete stranger—bursts into the room. He scans the space like he’s ready to take on an intruder. Seeing nothing threatening, he relaxes, leans back against the doorframe, and flashes me a wide grin.
"Well, well, well, Sleeping Beauty finally wakes, huh?" He straightens to attention and gives me a mock salute.
"You screamed, my lady, and here I am to answer your summons. Now what’s the problem? Fire? Kidnappers? Dragons, maybe? Or perhaps"—he gives me a bold, lascivious wink that makes me blush—"you were just lonely and wanted a little company, huh? That it?"
"There was a wolf. It was right there—on the bed. Then it jumped down and?—"
"Oh, that’s Southpaw. He’s kind of one of the crew. Comes and goes. Usually doesn’t have fleas… well, not too many anyway. Best not to make a habit of letting him sleep on your bed, but hey, whatever floats your boat. You’ll get used to him.Want some breakfast? There’s bacon. Oh yeah—and you owe Southpaw your life, by the way."
"What?" My head’s spinning. None of this makes sense.
