Ava Rising: Book 2 of 3

Chapter 11

It had been two weeks since they had said goodbye to the dolphin pod. The intervening days had been long, hot, and dusty. Thankfully Lucas had stolen them some provisions and less conspicuous clothing, so Ava was freed from the heft of the three-piece suit. They had been moving from campsite to campsite, working their way up the coast, never staying more than a night at any one spot. But progress had been much slower than expected.

The feeling of being constantly followed had taken its toll on them. Lucas had lost weight, his muscles now strained against his skin, and he had deep purple circles under his eyes. Ava knew she must look much the same. With each passing day, she'd gotten thirstier and thirstier. She had tried to hide the mysterious fever ravaging her body from Lucas, not wanting to add any more worries to his plate. But he must have noticed that something was off, because they had started travelling fewer and fewer miles every day, Lucas insisting that it was he who needed the break. But she caught him surreptitiously monitoring her.

And then today, without warning or ceremony, she had collapsed. The motion had been almost graceful—knees swaying and giving way to deposit her on the ground.

Thankfully, they had just entered South East Forests National Park—where their Gaia powers would be strong—when she fell. Now she was lying on the bank of a river waiting for Lucas to return from his scouting trip. He had warned her not to move, had said something about heat strike...no...that wasn't right. Heat stroke. That was it. No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than she got distracted by the feel of the earth against her skin. She trailed a finger along the dirt below her, mesmerized by the contours and whirls of the rocky ground. A curl stuck to the damp sweat on her forehead. She blew at it wildly, giggling. Quickly she grew frustrated when she couldn't dislodge it. She tossed her neck violently and forgot completely about her hair when she saw the clouds above her. So fluffy. They looked delicious. She reached a hand up to pluck one out of the sky and plop it into her mouth....hmm...ice cream. She closed her eyes and imagined scooping a giant spoonful of cookie dough ice cream into a bowl and then adding a scoop of salted caramel. She dug her hands into the ice cream, brows furrowed as sweat poured down her face. It was so hard, like trying to scoop rock.

"Ava, Ava, you're dreaming." Lucas's face loomed above her. "Something about your milkshake bringing all the boys to the yard." Concern dueled with laughter on Lucas's face as he bent over her.

Ava looked down—her hands were still attempting to burrow into the rocky outcropping next to the river. No wonder the ice cream had seemed so difficult to scoop. She snatched them back and cradled her bruised appendages on her chest.

"I don't have a milkshake for you, but I did bring something almost as nice." He pressed an icepack to her sweltering forehead.

At the rush of refreshment from the ice pack, she felt momentarily lucid. "Where'd you find it?"

"Game warden's cabin."

"What else did you steal?" She gave Lucas a searching look.

"Nothing. Just a newspaper...And this," he added, dangling a roll of duct tape in front of her, his eyes dancing with glee.

"Fourteen days," Ava said solemnly.

"What?"

"We've answered an important scientific question. Fourteen days—that's how long it takes to make a grown man swoon at the sight of duct tape."

"Says the lady who hallucinates about milkshakes."

"What? Are you telling me other people don't hallucinate about milkshakes? I'm pretty sure if you look hallucinate up in the dictionary its precise definition is 'to dream about milkshakes.'"