Eddie sighed as he removed a foot-long tree root and held it up. “He’s in there.”
Lincoln took it from Eddie and peered into the end. “I’m not sure what I’m looking for.”
Eddie peeled away the root’s skin with practiced fingers. The slow wriggle of the witchetty grub held Bree spellbound. Eddie squeezed gently and pulled it out. Two inches of thick, white larva squirming in the sun. “Who’d like a taste?”
Lincoln hesitated for a moment, then Eliza elbowed him out of the way. She winced as she chewed. “It’s kind of . . . I don’t know.” She smiled. “It’s pleasant. Like cooked eggs.”
Lincoln snatched the remainder of the grub from her and shoved it into his mouth. “It’s soft . . . almost buttery.” He swallowed with a loud gulp. “Can you find another one for Bree?”
Bree backed away as Eliza said, “You’ve got to take a chance once in your life.”
Eddie stood and wiped dusty hands on his shorts. “So there’s the witchetty grub you wanted me to find, but now I want to show you there’s more to bush food than that.” He pushed through the foliage that swept over the thin, unobtrusive path.
Eliza raced up to him, leaving Bree alone on the path. “What are we looking for?”
Eddie peered into the bush. “Quandongs. They’re a type of native peach. Bush bananas too. Some native plums if we can find them. It’s like a dessert bar out here.”
Bree watched the foliage swallow her group and she was left alone. She couldn’t do it. She’d end up doubled over vomiting or poisoned. Or worse. She wasn’t up to taking chances. And no amount of dressing up weird food as a “dessert bar” was going to help.
A light breeze whisked away the voices of the group, and she stood alone in the middle of a continent. Silence, punctuated by a harsh twittering from above and rustling from the ground on either side of the path; sounds cloaked by tall grass and low trees. Brown and olive green floating on a sea of red. She felt a sense of wonder at the landscape’s beauty, and a sense of her own insignificance in its shadow.
She took two steps in the direction the voices had gone. The path was now blocked.
“Eddie?” Her thin voice elongated two curt syllables into three long ones.
In the middle of the path a long, black snake coiled back on itself. It appeared to be gathering energy to strike. At her.
Bree flushed cold in the heat as she froze. “Eddie?” Three more long syllables.
The snake eyed her from the path, the sun rippling from its dark-brown scales. Its head eased back into its body.
The foliage parted. “Don’t. Move.” Eddie stepped off the path and inched around the snake, his eyes not deviating from the threat. The snake sensed his movement and jerked back.
Eddie stepped in front of Bree and placed an arm across her, his voice flat. “I want you to take a step back. Slowly. He doesn’t like sudden movements.”
Bree’s heart pounded as she fought to rein in the numbing panic. Behind the added protection of Eddie’s arm, she backed away, then collapsed against a gum tree.
The foliage parted again, and Lincoln stormed onto the path.
Eddie raised his arms, his voice like flint. “Stay there.”
Lincoln dropped his gaze to the snake and inched back as he proffered the shovel. “Here, you’ll need this.”
Eddie waved him away. “Stay where you are. Dangerous fella, this one, and we’re going to let him go on his way.”
Lincoln took a step forward as he gripped the shovel tight. “Why wouldn’t you kill him?”
“Once we’ve gone and moved on with our lives, we’ll leave him to move on with his.”
Bree watched the snake as it watched Eddie and Eddie watched it. Despite its deadly danger, this reptile conveyed a quiet majesty, a slow purpose to its movements. Bree’s breath returned as the snake uncoiled, relaxing, its head shifting left and right, eyeing an exit.
Eddie put up his hands and took a slow step toward it. “Careful now. Careful.” His toes tapped slowly on the path, mesmerizing the snake as it continued to uncoil. “Careful now. Careful.”
The snake slithered off the path and slunk into the bush, taking an age for its body to disappear into the scrub.
Eddie padded forward and inspected its exit point before he gestured to them. “He’s gone. We can go now.”
Bree’s heart resumed its frantic rhythm as they crept past, her eyes fixed on the low grass, sure the snake was waiting for the others to pass before it lunged at her. But the grass was still.
Once she was clear, her jog graduated into a sprint, and her heart still pounded as she rushed into Eliza’s arms, the sobs coming as the terror leaked away.
* * *
Lincoln slammed the car door as the late-afternoon shadows painted the landscape a pastel purple and yellow. The ride back to the campsite had been cloaked in an unhappy quiet despite Sloaney’s attempts to start conversation. Lincoln charged toward the crater’s lip, the setting sun blocked by the top of the dirt skyscraper. He leaned on it, his shoulders hunched, his head down, his breathing racing away from him. Things were unraveling. Fast.
Andy huffed and wheezed his way past him.
“What do you mean I’m to blame for your problems?”
Andy grimaced as he hefted his backpack higher on his shoulder. “What do you mean?”
“Eliza told me I was to blame for your problems.” Huffing, he puffed back his shoulders. “If you’ve got something to say, say it. And if you don’t, you should probably take responsibility for your own life.” He turned on his heel and leaped into the crater, the soft sand cradling his descent. He felt better—at least he’d addressed that issue. That left one—his reason for coming—and his chances with Eliza were slipping away.
Thirteen
The turquoise of the sky was brushed by reds and oranges as it submitted to the inky blackness of the night.
Silence, spoiled only by the crackle of the deadwood as it gave itself to the fire. Silence, fueled by unspoken tension that had risen like floodwaters throughout the day.
Raindrops speckled Eliza’s hand as more fizzled on the fire, the hint of water growing on the breeze. The maelstrom of strange tastes and sensations swirled around her mouth—the dense heaviness of the damper bread, the strange sweetness of goanna, and the tart tang of native plums, flavored by an earthy spice from her plate of paperbark.
Eddie gently blew on a smoldering branch. The edges of its leaves glowed red in the half-light. “I was going to share some of my stories, but it might be better to clear the air, if you don’t mind me saying, and around the fire is the perfect place.” He leaned away into the darkness as Eliza leaned in.
“Thanks, Eddie.” His words were perfect, exactly what he had promised. She drew from the thoughts she had pieced together as the outback scrolled past her window on the drive back from the gorge. She would deal with Lincoln later. Andy had to be first.
She turned to him as he stared blankly into the fire from inside the cowl of his hoodie. “Andy. We really do care about you and want to do something. We’re all friends and we’re here for you.”
Bree nodded enthusiastically. Lincoln’s brows furrowed in a concerned nod. Eliza was glad he’d been able to put aside his angst for their old friend.