Page 125 of Wild Like Us

“Because those protein shakes smelled like a whale’s butthole. You’d be plugging your nose, too.”

Banks wolfs down his food. The Stroganoff is subpar to me but not inedible. Another month here, and I’ll probably be craving spicy buffalo wings or a Thai omelet.

The Thai omelet heavies my chest. Reminding me of my mom in New York. When I was a kid, it was pretty much the only thing she knew how to cook well.

I glance at a text from this morning.

I’m doing better, Nine. No need to worry about me. Have fun in Yellowstone. Love, Mom– Mom

I rereadI’m doing better, Ninea few more times before I put my phone up again.

Shit.

Shit.

“Team Apex is Oscar Mike,” Banks says after I already see the campers on the move. They snuff out their fire and all pile into their pristine, brand-new looking Jeep Wrangler that makes Booger look like a bigger junker than she is.

I click my mic. “Akara to Thatcher, Team Apex is heading down the road towards you. Keep me posted if they stop at the RV camp.”

A second later, Thatcher says, “Roger copy.”

As soon as his voice is gone, the only noise comes from the crackling fire. It’s oddly quiet. Team Apex has been around every night this week. This is the first time it’s felt private since we left our other campsite.

Finished eating, we let the fire die out. Banks unzips the tent and crawls in first, Sulli is close behind.

“Oh fuck,” Sulli curses.

“Akara. Out,” Banks says quickly. Instinctively, I grab Sulli around the waist and pull heroutof the tent.

“I’m fine, Kits,” Sulli says, but she’s breathing heavily. “Banks, get out of there!”

Banks still hasn’t left the tent and now I’m worried about him. He’s one of my men. His wellbeing matters to me. But I also know it’s more than that.

“Banks! Leave the fucking tent!” I yell, and to Sulli, I ask, “What’s going on?”

29

SULLIVAN MEADOWS

“Snakes,”I breathe hard, adrenaline spiked. “There are fuckingsnakesin there, Kits.”

I know what I saw. At least three-dozen snakes are slithering underneath and around our sleeping bags inside the tent.

It has to be a practical joke.

I wish I got a better look to distinguish the exact type of snakes. Venomous or not, some fuckingcreepcrept into our tent and placed them there. They couldn’t have just fallen from the sky. We’ve been here for a whole week, and I haven’t seen a single snake.

“Banks!” Akara yells again. “Get your ass out here.Now!”

Fuck, Kits soundsmad.Maybe even worried. I doubt he wants to mess around with fate after it literally bit him. His elbow is still bandaged, and his stitches are coming out tomorrow morning. Banks and I even conspired to buy him a surprise celebratory lunch. Which involved asking Jane and Thatcher to pick up a BLT at the diner in town.

My pulse races the longer Banks disobeys Akara’s direct order.I’mdefinitely worried for Banks. Snake bites are nothing to fucking fool around with.

Akara drops his hands off my waist. He’s about to rush to the tent when Banks ducks his head and steps outside the flaps.

In a tight fist, Banks grips five snakes by their necks. Their bodies writhe in the air. “They’re just garter snakes.”

I have my fingers to my temples, stunned. “What in the ever-lovingfuck—you look like Baby Hercules.” Okay, I’m a lot impressed.