Free Freefall by Kristen Heitzmann Page B

to the creepy crawlies that until now wouldn’t have concerned her. The loathsome feel of that centipede was one memory she wanted blocked, and the thought of lying down and sleeping … “I can’t do this.”
    He pulled out the lighter. “They’re out there, Jade. But you seem to be ho‘omalu ke Akua .”
    “What does that mean?”
    “Under God’s protection.”
    “Ho‘omalu ke Akua,” she whispered.
    “I’ve never seen someone wrestle a centipede and walk away untouched.”
    She shuddered. “I just … got it off me.”
    He cocked his jaw and eyed her in the deepening twilight, then ducked out and lit the fire he’d assembled near the streambed.
    She joined him there. Wasn’t fire the universal defense? The night was not cold, but she huddled as though a howling wind tore around them.
    He tossed her a stick of teriyaki jerky for dinner. “Centipedes are predators. They mostly hunt at night. But they’ll probably stay in the vegetation and look for bugs and lizards.”
    “ Probably doesn’t do it for me.” She closed herself into her arms.
    His mouth pulled sideways. “I don’t blame you, but trust me, it could have been worse.”
    “I don’t want to know. And I’m not staying here.”
    He took a flashlight from his pack and set it on the stony ground between them. “We have no choice. It’s getting dark. Besides, you stayed here before.”
    “With enough brain damage to render me insouciant.”
    He tipped his head. “Big words. Maybe you’re a teacher.”
    “Don’t try to distract me.”
    “Now see, that’s just the tone Miss Stafford used to take.”
    She wrapped her knees in her arms. “And it probably did no good.”
    He pressed a hand to his chest. “She struck terror in my thirdgrade heart.”
    “And you in hers, no doubt.”
    He grinned. “She loved Nica, though. And since we came as a pair—”
    “You’re twins?”
    “We’re eleven months apart, but she accelerated a grade.”
    Jade reassessed him. “I thought you were a lot older.”
    “She has a young quality.”
    “And he was hardboiled.” Jade leaned her chin on her knees. “You’re nothing at all alike.”
    “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. We both have a weakness for squid luau.”
    She half smiled. The horror of the centipede had diminished a little. But her thoughts still churned as all around them insects sang. “What else is out there?”
    “You’ve encountered the worst. The centipede is the only poisonous creature on the island. He took a ride over with the Polynesians. Lots of people have lived here since, sleeping out like this, whole families on little grass mats.” He took out a bottle of repellent. “Use this for the mosquitoes.”
    “Malarial?”
    “Only birds get malaria in Hawaii.”
    She shot him a skeptical look.
    “Cross my heart. There’s a few spiders whose bites can hurt, but nothing out here will kill you.”
    She applied a fresh coat of repellent, the caustic scent stinging her nostrils. “Maybe I’ll just hang over that boulder again.” She waved toward the stone near the bank where she’d huddled the first night unawares.
    He shrugged. “Whatever suits you.”
    With a sigh, she turned back to the flames. “I won’t sleep.”
    “Then you won’t be much good tomorrow.”
    And she had to be.
    He ducked under the tarp. “The light’s on the ground there if you need it. Don’t go far to relieve yourself.”
    She wished he hadn’t brought it up, but better now than later. “Where’s that big knife?”
    He reached into his pack and held out the machete. “Just don’t think I’m a wild boar if I start snoring.”
    It surprised her he could make her laugh. After everything. “Cameron?”
    “Yeah.”
    “We’re going to find him.”
    “That’s why we’re here.”
    It was why she’d sleep, in spite of centipedes, and push on tomorrow to whatever lay ahead. When she came back and lay down on the mat under the tarp, Cameron murmured, “Ma ka malu o kona ‘ēheu.”
    She