Horizons by Catherine Hart Page A

carefully for the sound of water. Or even the smell of it. If the ground underfoot gets soggy, alert your neighbor. It could mean there’s a spring underground, or it could just as well mean that you’re heading into quicksand, or the equivalent thereof, if such things exist in this part of the world.”
    Everyone cast a quick look at Blair, who gave an abashed shrug. “Beats me. I haven’t read anything to that effect.”
    “Be careful, then,” Zach instructed. “Watch your step. We’ll take roll call every ten minutes, just to make sure no one has gotten lost or into trouble. And be on the lookout for other things that might signify that someone else has been here on the island. Cans, bottles, cold campfires, an old shoe. If we’re lucky, maybe someone uses this island for a fishing spot from time to time.”
    They lined up, the men alternated with the women, and headed into the jungle. In the high humidity, they were drenched with sweat within a few minutes. And without the ocean breeze to hold them at bay, the bugs began to attack in swarms. Despite Zach’s directive not to talk, Kelly muttered loudly, “This is not my idea of a fun way to spend the day.”
    To her right, she heard Gavin grouse, “Do I get combat pay for this, or some sort of extra compensation?”
    “You’ll get a swift kick in the butt, if you don’t shut up,” Zach warned.
    “The man has the ears of a damned bat!”
    In spite of her discomfort, Kelly giggled. “Small and pointy?”
    “I heard that. Now hush! Pay attention.”
    “Aye-aye, sir!”
    At the first roll call, everyone was still accounted for, with Alita responding peevishly, “S i ! I now have more blisters than fingernails, but who is counting, eh? I hate this! If I’d wanted to roam the jungles, I could have stayed in Mexico.”
    Not long after that, Blair let out a startled yell. Everyone immediately deserted his assigned position to rush to her aid, aborting the effort when she called out with a weak laugh, “Never mind! It was just a lizard! He dashed out from under a rock and scared the willies out of me. I think it was one of those things they call a skink, or maybe a gecko. Sorry.”
    “Whatever it was, you probably scared it clean out of its hide,” Frazer commented. “I know you just took ten years off my life, hollering like that.”
    “Are they edible?” Zach wanted to know.
    His que r y met with united disgust and a clamorous chorus of “No!”
    Onward they trudged. A minute or two following the second head count, Frazer announced, “Hey! I think I found more tucker!”
    “Huh?” This from Gavin.
    “Food,” Frazer clarified. “Something else to eat.” They all converged in his area. He pointed to a tree, from which hung numerous greenish globs up to a foot in length.
    “What is it?” Kelly asked, looked up at the strange growths doubtfully.
    “Breadfruit. The staple of the tropics,” Frazer explained. “I’ve eaten it before, on a stopover in Fiji, and it’s not bad at all. Rather akin to a potato in taste, though it looks like a l oaf of bread once it’s baked.”
    “So that’s what it looks like,” Blair put in. “I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never seen one. You’re supposed to be able to fry or boil it, too.”
    Employing their sticks, Gavin and Zach knocked a few of them down. “We didn’t bring anything to carry them in,” Alita pointed out.
    “No problem,” Zach said. “We can bundle them into Gavin and Frazer’s shirts, and Kelly’s jacket.”
    As he approached her, Kelly warded him off. “No way, Jose. I’m keeping my blazer on.”
    His brow furrowed. “Why? You’ve got to be sweltering in it. As a matter of fact, you look as if you’re about to expire from heatstroke at any moment.”
    “Obviously, you’re not up on current fashion for women,” she told him. “I need the jacket because I’m wearing a camisole under it in place of a blouse.”
    “So? What’s the difference? What’s a