“One more shot,” Becky called over her shoulder as she stood on a rock in the middle of the creek, holding her camera up to get that last perfect shot of the cliff jutting out.
Dee shook her head as she carefully perched on a rock near the edge. Her balance was precarious, to say the least, and the last thing she wanted was to have to change into dry clothes in the bathrooms at the visitor’s center. Besides, the storm looming on the horizon promised a major wallop – black thunderclouds rumbling angrily like mankind had done some wrong great enough for God to rain His wrath down.
“C’mon, Becky,” she yelled back. “You’ve got plenty of shots of that stupid cliff, and I don’t want to…”
In the heat of her speech, Dee tipped slightly. Before she knew what was happening, she was face down in the water.
The water in Dee’s ear distorted all sound, but she heard the distinctive splash of something landing in the water as she pulled herself up. Becky’s wide-eyed mortification struck Dee half a second before Becky dived into the water.
The camera, Dee thought as she fought off a round of choking.
Part of Dee felt empathy as she struggled through the water in Becky’s general direction. But the wind was gusting now, and the chill from it rapidly depleting Dee’s normally high levels of tolerance.
Good thing I left the cell phone in the car. Otherwise it would be a goner, too.
Becky jumped up gleefully just as Dee reached her, and her upward swinging arm caught Dee square in the nose. Dee toppled down into the water again, but this time remembered to hold her breath.
“Becky, you are a dead woman,” she muttered when she surfaced, but Becky – having recovered the camera – was headed for shore. Swallowing back every vial epithet in the English language (and a few in German), Dee followed.
Becky was, of course, waiting for her at the edge.
“I got it.” She grinned.
You’re gonna get it… Dee thought as she glared. A flicker of fright chased across Becky’s face, but it quickly disappeared, and they started walking back towards the trail.
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