Chasing His Kickass Luna Back novel Chapter 172

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.