Ante tugged her hood tighter for the fortieth time in fifteen minutes, despite the futility. “High tech waterproof jacket, my left foot.”
Her words were drowned out by the roar of the raging waterfall that had swollen to a size she could no longer cross safely. The downpour had come without warning, and what had promised to be a sprinkle had left the usual riverside path slick with mud.
She turned on the slippery rocks and gave a wistful look toward the narrow crack where she’d stashed the plas-wrapped techbow the ship’s regs allowed on new colonies, but she’d already tried to squeeze inside the tiny gap. The best result had been a miserable failure, though she’d only given up after nearly falling into the rapids.
At least her weapon would stay safe, if not precisely dry; she’d found on past planetside tours that even modern version of the archaic hunting tools didn’t handle water well.
No, better to turn around and go back, given that she was already drenched and covered in a combination of sticky wet clay and the mud ubiquitous to this planet. It would have been easier, had the hood stayed stiff enough to keep the rain out of her eyes.
“Ach, stop whinging over a wee bit o’ rain,” she said, mimicking her favorite adopted uncle. “Get a-movin’, lass.”
Ante made her way back to the path, gaze on her footing. The rain was a welcome surprise, as long as it didn’t last much more than a day; anything more would ruin the crops and they’d pass the colony half-prepped, only to move to the next base and start the cycle regardless. But the weather-sat clearly was malfunctioning again, and she hoped it wasn’t a sign of things to come.
There’d been stories, last posting, of soldiers left behind, when things started to go wrong. She raised a worried gaze toward the sky, hoping for a glimpse of the ship she’d spent most of her life upon.
That’s when the path gave way, and she tumbled through a series of trees and slid through buckets of fresh mud, landing with an oomph at the bottom of a ravine. It was a lovely glen, with canopy trees that interlocked for shelter, and even a powder-fruit bush that still held berries.
There was only one problem with the location that she could see…if she was where she thought after her unexpected detour, the river hadn’t been there yesterday. The downpour might be enough to make her miserable and boost the familiar waterways, but this was a well-established river, deep enough it should have shown on the sat-map she held in trembling hands.
There was only one thing a brand new river could mean.
She was lost.
***
This week’s prompt came from Becky: There was only one problem with the location that she could see… the river hadn’t been there yesterday.
Mine went to Leigh: It was peaceful, until the bachelor herd came through.
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