Taking Flight by Tabitha Rayne Read Free Book Online

must be a river here somewhere.”
    They gathered their things and went in search of a suitable campsite. Deborah was angry at them for letting the day slip by without preparing properly. Time had seemed to ebb away without them even noticing. She motioned to Marcus to keep silent as she pricked her ears, trying to catch the noise of any sort of water flowing. Nothing. Twilight began to descend and they decided to call off the search and make do with a little clearing they’d come across which had quite a good vantage point in case of intruders. Deborah cleaned herself as best she could with the baby wipes they’d brought and Marcus lit the stove to boil some water for tea. There wasn’t much left at all.
    “What were we thinking? Only two liters of water for an escape plan?” Deborah buried the used wipes and sulked. She’d had a terror of being thirsty ever since she’d suffered dehydration as a child when she’d taken herself off to research insects in the meadow near her house. She’d got lost and the feeling of raging thirst when her mother eventually found her, lying in flowers clutching a net full of dying butterflies, had never left. She still couldn’t look at the tiny flapping creatures without reaching for a bottle of cool, crisp water.
    Her mother used to tell the story, saying when she’d been rescued she’d drunk enough to fill a bath tub, to anyone who cared to listen. Sitting at the camp with just half a canteen left, Deborah began to believe her mother’s tale, feeling that if there was a bath full of water there, she would happily drink the lot. She needed a distraction or she would become fixated and go mad. That’s what happened to those lost in the desert, wasn’t it? Thirst, then madness, then death.
    Marcus laughed when she mentioned her fear. “Honestly, Deborah, what a bloody drama queen. We’ve got plenty of supplies to see us through the night, and tomorrow we’ll get up early and go get more. We—” He paused and quickly corrected himself. “Well, you , can sneak into a shop, you know. It’s not like we’re going to have to live off the fat of the land forever.”
    Deborah felt an irrational pang of disappointment. So they could. Shops didn’t cease to exist simply because they were living in the woods. It would be tricky, she’d have to disguise herself, but of course they could. The water began to bubble on the stove and Marcus popped a teabag in.
    “Just for a second, love. We’ve no milk to soften the blow if it’s stewed.” She laughed inwardly at the lecture. Stewed tea. She’d gone from fearing for her life to worrying that the tea would be bitter. She was learning to live in the here and now after all. She watched like a hawk as Marcus tipped the weak brown liquid into two beakers balanced precariously on a root. She was tense with the worry he might spill it. She thought she might kill him if he did.
    At last, hot tea inside her and lying in a nicely made bed on top of soft leaves and a tarpaulin, Deborah finally relaxed and breathed a sigh of thanks that they’d made it through the first day as lovers on the run.
    * * * *
    “What’s going on?” Deborah sprang up and focused instantly, despite her sleep-gritty eyes. An intruder was searching through their bags. “Fuck off! What are you doing?” She grabbed at Marcus, trying to shake him awake as the shadowy figure put his finger to his lips.
    “Shh,” he whispered menacingly.
    “Fucking hell, Marcus, wake up!” She punched him in the arm now and he moaned at her irritably, trying to roll to the side and fall back to sleep. “Marcus, wake up, help me!” The word “help” must have triggered his protective instincts and he was up like a shot, pinning the stranger to the ground right next to their rifled-through belongings.
    “You’d better have a fucking good explanation for this,” he snarled, and Deborah felt the strength leave her. She couldn’t tell if it was from fear of the situation or