Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 104869 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104869 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
“Smith?”
“Lost? What the fuck do you mean lost? Lost where?”
“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be lost, would I?” Her uncharacteristically tart comeback was indicative of her spiraling sense of panic and dread.
“Kenna?” He sounded wary, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to make of this situation. And who could blame him? She felt as if she was slowly going off her rocker. “Are you okay?”
“Not really.” Despite her best efforts, her voice wobbled alarmingly.
“Send me a pin.”
The relief nearly buckled her knees and she swayed alarmingly as the tension left her body taking all of the adrenaline with it.
“Thank you,” she whispered and hastily pulled up his WhatsApp account to ping him her location.
A soft chime sounded on his end of the line—her message going through—and there was a short silence broken by a soft, heartfelt, “Fuuuck me. Where’s Paul?”
“I drove myself.”
“Why the fuck did you do that? Christ!”
“I wanted…” Ugh, it really didn’t matter anymore. Her motivations were moot in the face of his hostility. The man wasn’t interested. “It doesn’t matter. Uh…I think I’ll head back to the car and wait for whomever you send. Thank you.”
“You’re not in your car?”
Why did he sound so alarmed?
“No, I needed to get to a spot with phone reception. The car’s in a dead area.”
“How far are you from the car?” Now he was starting to alarm her too with those urgent tones.
“Not far. Five, maybe ten minutes.”
“Stay on the road and retrace your steps. Do not get out of the car again until I get there, okay?”
“You don’t have to come,” she protested. “I’ve clearly inconvenienced you enough already. I—”
“Kenna, go back to your car right now!”
She gulped and her wide eyes scanned the low shrubbery in search of danger.
“Okay. But I’ll lose signal once I move from this spot. So…”
“Are you walking while you’re talking?”
“No.”
His long-suffering sigh was a little offensive. It wasn’t like she found herself in situations like this often…or ever. So he could shelve the attitude.
“You’re safer in your car, okay? Lot of snakes around this time of year. Watch where you step.”
She’d known there were snakes about, of course, but hearing him confirm it freaked her out. She cast wild eyes down to her feet, terrified that one would lunge up at her out of nowhere.
She started moving back to her car.
“There are also caracals and leopards, both of which can—”
The line went dead and Kenny froze.
Caracals? Leopards? Both of which could what?
She nearly turned back in search of a signal to demand Smith finish that sentence, but chose the saner course of action and hurried back to her car instead. The return trip felt interminable, probably because she expected a leopard to leap on her any moment.
She was amazed when she made it back to the car without incident. But as she fumbled her way back into the driver’s seat, she was certain that right now would be the perfect moment for a snake to strike. A rinkhals, maybe, which could spray its neurotoxic venom into her eyes, blinding her and leaving her vulnerable to the leopard waiting nearby.
She shuddered and slammed the door shut and then berated herself for that irrational descent into panic and irrationality. Kenny wasn’t prone to flights of fantasy and even though she knew she was being silly, she still sat there wondering how long she could survive in this heat with no air-conditioning and the windows closed.
She was gasping for air and sweating even more profusely in less than a minute.
There was no way she’d survive in this oven without ventilation. She reignited the engine and switched on the fan. But all that did was circulate hot air around the car’s interior.
The situation was fast becoming unbearable. She lowered all the windows by a couple of inches but with no wind at all, it didn’t help much. And the midges, which seemed to have been waiting for her out there, happily used the opportunity to nip at her exposed flesh again.
Shit. She grabbed her water bottle and took a measured sip of water, which—thanks to the container’s insulated interior—was still refreshingly cool. Even with the happy prospect of imminent rescue, anything could happen to hamper them from finding her. It was better to be cautious and conserve it than be stuck in this terrible heat without water.
Her thin cotton tank was wet with her sweat, and now rust-colored rather than white, thanks to the dust from the road. Her thigh-length khaki shorts—chosen because she’d wanted to impress Smith with her bush-ready wear—was giving her a massive wedgie. She should probably have tried them on before buying them, but she’d shopped for this impulsive trip in a rush.
They were indecently short, ridiculously uncomfortable, and not at all her usual style.
Now she glared down at her exposed thighs and shook her head in disgust.