Even inside the dense forest the heat and humidity were draining. And she felt a tension between her and Mitchell that hadn’t been there before. When he remarked on her silence and asked her if something was the matter she brushed it aside, telling him it was only the heat and the strain of the search. Today seemed hotter than ever and the protective long pants and shirt sleeves she wore seemed to stick closer than ever to her body, and she could feel the sweat trickling down her back. Regularly mopping it from her face irritated her skin, and she thought longingly of plunging into the fresh, cool water of the lagoon at the end of the day. That kept her going. That and the memory of her father, and her determination to find the stripling. Mitchell’s call for the lunch break came a little earlier than usual, and when she joined him in a small clearing beside a dry creek bed she found he’d taken off his backpack and was reaching his hand inside his shirt, trying, unsuccessfully, to reach his back to scratch it.
