Drone Chase by Pam Withers

Author:Pam Withers [Withers, Pam]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: YOUNG ADULT FICTION / Action & Adventure / Survival Stories
ISBN: 9781459747456
Publisher: Dundurn
Published: 2021-01-26T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

WHEN I REACH the tree around which our canoe was tied, I breathe a sigh of relief. The boat has moved several feet to rest in the boulder’s far shadow, and it’s now upside down, but it’s still on the beach and tied up. Could the tide have done all that?

I set Chief down. He watches, blinking, as I sprint up to our picnic ledge to grab the cooler and pull out my second sandwich to feed him. He snaps up the food like he hasn’t eaten in days.

Looking left and right along the beach, then up-slope to the maze of stumps, I see no sign of Dorothy. Something clearly spooked her, but how far could she have gone in the short time I was away?

“Dorothy?” I shout again — and nearly soil my brand-new sweatpants as a corner of the canoe appears to lift up on its own in front of me. She’s crouched beneath it.

“I’m here,” she half whispers, eyes wide.

“Okay,” I say, trying to calm my voice. “Did you know our drones are missing?”

“I’ve got them.” She glances down the shoreline toward the cannery, then hands them out from under the canoe. “You brought back a dog?”

“I had to,” I say. “He needs rehydrating and care at our clinic.”

Dorothy shakes her head like I’m crazy but reaches for my hand and squeezes it. “You’re so … you’re so Ray.”

She crawls out from under the canoe, but I notice her trembling a little as she moves to where the boulder blocks any view of the cannery, as if she’s trying to hide in the stone’s shadow.

Hide from Yellow Drone, the ghost wail, or something else?

“Are you okay?” I hope my voice doesn’t reveal I’m still spooked, too.

Pressing herself back into the sculpted side of the boulder, she looks at me with eyes resembling Chief’s: in need of comfort, somehow. I move in and wrap my arms around her, pressing my face to her neck. She returns the hug in a fierce way, clinging to me for a full minute before taking a deep breath. “Sorry, sorry,” she whispers.

Sorry for what? I’m not about to ask.

Our lips find each other’s, and with a surge of warmth, my fear melts away and exhilaration seems to ride the air currents. Crickets chorus in the grass, and seawater laps joyfully at our feet. In that moment, I open myself more fully to Bella Coola.

“Hey,” I say, stroking her face.

“Hey,” she says, smiling and patting Chief ’s head as he pushes his nose between us.

Her fingers trace my jawline, then rise to my left ear. She leans in and kisses it tenderly. “Will you ever tell me the real story of your ear?”

I sigh. “I was camping with my granddad and one of his friends. I did something really stupid, and it has made me afraid of … I’ve never admitted this to anyone before, Dorothy, especially not to anyone in Bella Coola.”

“Go on,” she says, stroking that side of my head, then leaning in to offer a delicious French kiss.

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