Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

Abby

“Oh my go d, 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 pri cks 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…”

Enter title…

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, s hit,” 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

nervously. “I mean,

a fair question. We came here to pick mushrooms, not

somehow found out that we stole from their stash, what would be

so many, Karl,” I say, struggling with the conflicting emotions that are growing inside

they could easily chalk it up to animals or

exploiting nature for

search mine, perhaps seeking reassurance,

Let’s do it. But

so you can practice for the

to work, we kneel back down beside the truffle patch. My satchel

that could potentially change the

the first truffle

movements hesitant but growing steadier with

a lump of dark truffles gathered at its bottom like some

and fasten it,

my

we’re caught.”

walk in silence back the way we came, finally stopping a little while later at the mouth

the sunlight through

which will make camouflaging ourselves a

ourselves, I sling my satchel over my

leaping through the cascade of water

the ground running, boots slipping on the wet rocks as we aim for the path leading back to

see them: guards, three of them, standing in a line like they’re part of

as shocked to see us,

guns.

one of them barks, his eyes locking onto my mud-streaked satchel and my

fingers.

slowly raise our hands, glancing at each other as one of

moment stretches thin, and I feel like I care barely

moment snaps

a swift, almost practiced movement, he shoves the guard on the

before they react, guns firing into the air as we

sprint away.