Chasing His Kickass Luna Back

Chapter 0172

Abby

“Oh my god, Abby… could it be?”

Karl’s eyes widen next to me. I crouch down to get a closer look at the dark mushrooms nestled in the

dirt at our feet.

“Yes,” I breathe, reaching out to run my finger along their tops. “This is it. Black truffles.”

This is exactly what we've been searching for, but something feels off, discordant in a way that pricks at

my senses.

Karl crouches down beside me, his fingers gently touching the truffles. “They look genuine. But how is

this even possible? All these truffles growing this far from sunlight? I knew they needed low light, but

this…”

His words are mirroring my thoughts exactly. “I don’t think they’re growing naturally,” I murmur, my eyes

scanning the cave, landing on something that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I point

upwards, my finger shaking slightly. “Look.”

Karl’s eyes follow my finger to the ceiling of the cave. Artificial lights hang overhead. They’re turned off

right now, likely to simulate a day/night cycle for the mushrooms that are growing here. That’s why

there are so many mushrooms in this cave; they’re being cultivated.

“Oh, shit,” Karl whispers, his voice tinged with disbelief and a hint of dread. “You don’t think—”

“That these truffles are being cultivated? By the poachers?” My heart sinks as I complete his thought. I

should have known sooner, but I guess it never occurred to me until just now. “Yeah. I do.”

Karl rises to his feet, his face flushed, his eyes widening. “So should we take any?” he asks, glancing

around nervously. “I mean, what if they notice?”

It’s a fair question. We came here to pick mushrooms, not to steal from illegal poachers. Not like this, at

least. If they somehow found out that we stole from their stash, what would be the repercussions?

“There are so many, Karl,” I say, struggling with the conflicting emotions that are growing inside of me.

“If we take just what we need, they could easily chalk it up to animals or something. And besides, we’re

not the ones exploiting nature for profit.”

Karl’s eyes search mine, perhaps seeking reassurance, perhaps questioning the fine line we’re toeing

between right and wrong. Finally, he nods. “Okay. Let’s do it. But like you said, we’ll just take what we

need; just enough so you can practice for the cook-off.”

Getting to work, we kneel back down beside the truffle patch. My satchel lies open between us, ready

to hold these precious fungi that could potentially change the tide in my quest to win the cook-off.

My hands tremble slightly as I pluck the first truffle from the ground and place it into the satchel. Karl

follows suit, his own movements hesitant but growing steadier with each truffle he picks.

Finally, my satchel is sufficiently filled, a lump of dark truffles gathered at its bottom like some sort of

illegal contraband. I pull the flap over and fasten it, looking up to meet Karl’s gaze.

“We’ve got enough,” I say, the words sticking in my throat. “Let’s get back to the car, and quickly, before

we’re caught.”

We walk in silence back the way we came, finally stopping a little while later at the mouth of the cave,

curtained by the waterfall. I can see the sunlight through the loud, rushing water now; it’s much brighter

now than it was earlier this morning, which will make camouflaging ourselves a fair bit more difficult.

But there’s no turning back now. We gather ourselves, I sling my satchel over my shoulder, and

together, we bolt through the cave’s hidden mouth, leaping through the cascade of water that covers

the entrance.

We hit the ground running, boots slipping on the wet rocks as we aim for the path leading back to the

car.

That’s when we see them: guards, three of them, standing in a line like they’re part of some twisted

welcoming committee. They’re just as shocked to see us, but that doesn’t stop them from raising their

guns.

“Hands in the air!” one of them barks, his eyes locking onto my mud-streaked satchel and my dirt-

covered fingers.

Karl and I slowly raise our hands, glancing at each other as one of the guards slowly and cautiously

begins making his way closer. The moment stretches thin, and I feel like I care barely breathe.

But then, the moment snaps as Karl mutters, “Abby… run.”

With a swift, almost practiced movement, he shoves the guard on the far right, throwing him off

balance. The surprise registers on their faces a split second before they react, guns firing into the air as

we turn to sprint away.

“Get them!” one of the guards yells, and suddenly we’re running for our lives, a barrage of shouts and

bullets propelling us forward.

Karl grabs my hand, pulling me along the uneven path, our breaths coming fast and harsh. We’re both

running on adrenaline and fear, but also an exhilarating kind of hope. The path ahead is a blur, but I

know we need to reach the top of the ravine to have any chance of escaping.

“They’re not far behind!” Karl shouts over his shoulder. “Just keep going, Abby!”

I don’t need to be told twice before pure survival instinct takes over. Our footsteps pound against the

earth in a frantic rhythm, the sound of our boots and our labored breaths echoing through the once-

peaceful forest.

Just when I think we might actually make it, a new sound slices through the air—dogs, their barks

vicious and close.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” I gasp, urging my legs to move faster.

Karl leads us off the path, veering sharply to the right, crashing through a dense wall of underbrush.

Branches whip against my skin, leaving shallow cuts, but I hardly feel them. We emerge into a clearing,

and for a second, we’re exposed, vulnerable.

“Over there!” Karl points to another thicket on the opposite side. “Go!”

We sprint across the open ground, the barking of the dogs growing louder and closer with every step.

Just as we plunge into the new patch of underbrush, I hear the dogs burst into the clearing. It sounds

like they’ve lost our trail for the briefest of moments, their barks becoming confused, disjointed.

But we don’t stop to celebrate this minor victory. Our escape isn’t guaranteed until we’re safely away,

and right now, we’re anything but that. Property belongs to Nôvel(D)r/ama.Org.

Bursting out onto another path, we follow it until we reach the car, hidden among a cluster of trees. I’ve

never been so happy to see a piece of machinery in my life.

Karl fumbles for the keys and unlocks the car. We practically fall inside, slamming the doors shut

behind us. The engine roars to life, and Karl peels out of our makeshift parking spot, wheels spitting

gravel and smoke as we speed down the narrow road.

For a long moment, neither of us says anything. Our breathing gradually slows, the immediate threat of

capture shrinking with every yard we put between us and the forest.

Then, almost in unison, we start to laugh. It’s a giddy, almost hysterical sound, bubbling up from some

sort of place that I didn’t even know existed.

“We did it, Karl,” I manage in between laughs, tears spilling out of my eyes and onto my dirty cheeks.

“We did it.”