Luke stood and wrapped the berries in a leaf. "I'm game to go too."
"Sorry, Bro, you need to rest and let that foot heal."
"I'm fine. I swear."
Hunter slapped him on the back. "Next time, once you're healed. We've got it covered today."
Lucy and Hunter headed into the forest, leaving Luke standing there like a rejected puppy. Lucy felt bad, but he'd never be able to keep up, let alone hunt prey, and they couldn't afford for him to further injure himself. He'd need to be fully recovered for the mission, once they figured out a way to escape.
They pushed through brush, dodging vines and hanging branches.
Hunter made a sound that reminded Lucy of a cat hiss and flicked a leaf away from his face. "Green, green and more green. I'm sick of it. I hate the color green."
"If it weren't for the vampire bugs bent on sucking me dry, I'd love it. It's pretty. Besides, your eyes are green."
"Yeah, so? Doesn't mean I have to like the color."
His eyes were the most beautiful shade of green she'd ever seen—like priceless emeralds—but she held her tongue. No sense in looking even more like a love-sick teenager. "So what's your favorite color?"
He whacked at another branch. "Black."
"Black's not a color."
"Fine, Miss Picky. Brown."
"Seriously? Nobody likes brown." Talk about the most boring color ever.
"Brown is a great color. The earth is brown. Chocolate is brown. Aren't girls supposed to love chocolate? Besides, your eyes are brown, and they're pretty gorgeous."
Well, that was sweet... and kind of gag-inducing. The conversation started to sound like a scene in a romance novel with sparkly vampires, and a horrible thought hit her. What if he was the kind of guy who read sappy romances and used those lines to hit on girls? The idea was so preposterous she laughed out loud.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing. Just wondering how you became such a ladies' man."
"That's easy. I was born this way. It's all natural, baby."
Yeah, right. "What's your favorite food?"
"Pizza, the meat lover's kind. What, are we playing twenty questions here?"
Another mosquito—fortunately not giant-sized like some of the other bugs in the valley—landed on her arm and prepared for a meal. She squashed it and wiped away the splattered blood. Wonder whose blood that belonged to? "No. I'm just trying to learn more about you. You don't talk about yourself or your past much."
"You'd like me to, wouldn't you?"
"Well, yeah."
Hunter stopped, and Lucy bumped into him. He caught her around the waist, but then pulled back to look at her. "Let me ask you a question. Do you like talking about your past?"
Lucy considered. She'd never had to talk about her past before, to anyone. "Actually, no, I don't."
Hunter's pupils dilated and his green eyes looked even brighter. "We're not our past, Lucy. It influences us, sure, but even then we choose how it shapes us. One guy can grow up with alcoholic parents and become one himself, while another guy raised in the same family dynamic becomes a therapist who helps hundreds conquer their addictions. The past is just a collection of shady memories strung together by emotion. Nothing more. The choices of the moment make us who we are, not what happened to us as children. We are the values we choose to live by in the present. The past isn't important beyond the lessons we learn from it."
He locked eyes with her, as if trying to tell her something very important with just a look. "You won't learn anything real about me by exploring my past. You'll get to know me better by observing the kind of man I am now."
She wondered if he had secrets he was ashamed of, but then decided it didn't matter. His words made sense. She couldn't be judged by the life she'd lived at Rent-A-Kid. That life didn't define her, or speak to all of who she was on the inside. At least, she hoped it didn't. But her choices, they did speak to her character. What would her recent choices say about her?
They broke through the thick foliage and neared a cliff that reached high into the sky. Lucy craned her neck and looked up. "Maybe we could climb out?"
She didn't have to see the look on Hunter's face to know that climbing was preposterous. Even if they'd been skilled mountaineers, they would have found it impossible.
Hunter grabbed her hand and led her to the left, walking along the cliff face. "Maybe we'll find a way out of the valley if we follow this far enough."
She squeezed his hand. "Maybe, but doubtful. The answer is likely more complex, otherwise why wouldn't Mr. K just tell us?"
"Not sure. Maybe he's just messing with us because he's lonely and doesn't want us to leave. Can you imagine what it must be like for him here?"