As if on cue, a kookaburra called again.
Charlie nodded. "Nature's alarm clock."
"Yeah, and they'll get louder when the whole family starts going."
We both struggled to our feet, and my back seized up with sharp stiffness. Charlie must’ve been in agony, too. The pair of us had taken a battering. "How are your feet?"
"They're fine." Her lips drew to a thin line. But when she took just one step, she sucked air through her teeth, fighting the pain.
I reached for her. "Jesus, Charlie, you can't walk like that."
"Yeah, well, I have to, don't I?" She pulled away from my touch.
"Charlie—"
"I don't have a choice, Mitch." Her voice was firm, her glare unyielding. "We can't stay here. So, I'm walking. End of discussion."
Stubborn. I'd give her that.
But she was also right. The sky grew lighter, and the stars faded as the sun prepared to make its entrance. The temperature would start climbing soon, and we needed to get moving.
Needed to find food.
And Zeus.
And survive another day.
I pulled out the lighter and checked to see whether it still had fluid. There was maybe enough for one more fire, if we were lucky. I cut out four more roots from the tree, shaving the ends of two for us to have now. The other two were for later.
I glanced over my shoulder at Charlie. Her hands were shaking as she tried to work the stiff socks over her heels. Every movement made her flinch, and she bit down on her lip hard enough to draw blood.
I brought the roots back and handed her one. "Here. Suck."
She grinned, but the smile didn't reach her eyes this time.
We sat in silence, sucking on the roots. The bitter sap coated my tongue as I searched the landscape, trying to find something I recognized. But there was nothing.
When we finished, I tucked the remaining two roots into my pocket. Charlie reached for her boots, but when she tried to slide her foot in, she gasped and her face went bone white. She tried again, but the moment her heel touched the inside of the boot, she jerked her foot back out with a sharp cry.
"Stop. That's enough." I grabbed the boot off her and put it down.
She breathed hard, staring at the boots as if they'd betrayed her. Looking up at me, those golden eyes blazed with frustration. "I can't get them on."
"I know."
She stared at the boots for another moment, then shoved them away. "Fine. I'll walk in socks then." Her voice was tight but determined.
I let out a laugh. "Okay then. Let's roll." I helped her to her feet, and she swayed before finding her balance.
The kookaburra laughed again, and this time, another answered from across the ravine. Then a whole family of them welcomed the dawn with their insane chorus.
Charlie looked up at the tree, searching for the birds, and despite the pain she must be in, she smiled. "They're laughing at me. They think I'm crazy."
I chuckled. "The birds have a point. You are crazy."
She gasped and swatted my arm, but she was smiling. "Says the man who deliberately went into a flooded river."
"Yes, but only to save you," I admitted.