Complete Without You (ONC 2022)

Chapter 2 - Mount Bruce (Neil)

I cursed pulling into the car park, its half-full state showing I was late to the party and in for a toasty hike up Mount Bruce. It was at least a three-hour return for a fit person, and I'd spent more time in my vehicle than trekking lately. I wished I'd never answered my sister's call this morning. The woman was relentless when she wanted to be.

After changing into my hiking boots, triple-checking my water supply, and grabbing snacks, I jogged toward the trailhead. A few groups of friends and couples were preparing to hike, but no solo hikers. Goanna Girl had probably already started. Her figure had looked active, but not overly athletic, so I could hopefully catch up or see her during her descent. Not that I needed to. She had just seemed refreshingly different, yet familiar.

Describing her like a beverage, great start, Neil. Women love that.

The hike toward the giant, composed of hills upon more hills, featured vibrant orange rocks and soil bleeding through its thin layer of green and brown flora. A few trees grew sporadically, but they were more decorative than suited to offer shade.

Serves you right for getting a later start.

The trail's slope was gradual, allowing me to jog a fair bit of it until I reached the Marandoo summit. It overlooked a giant open mine that the government had felt fitting to allow within the park. It sat beside the mountain like a crusty scab. The red-orange earth revealed layer after layer chipped away. As my skin prickled and I dismissed surfacing thoughts, I turned my back to the mine and hurried up the next sections of the trail. Switchbacks plus a tedious section with a chain handrail drilled into the orange rock near a substantial drop slowed my pace.

I passed other hikers, but didn't recognize any, not that yesterday's moonlight had given me a clear image of the woman to work with, nor had I met many others since my arrival. That was probably for the best. While our conversation was interesting, lady trouble was the last thing I needed. Completing my bucket list to spite my mates and ex was first.

The angle of the peaks kept presenting false final summits that I'd climb, only to discover the next challenge. By the end, it was like the mountain and brutal sun were laughing at me. My throat was too parched to return the gesture.

Two and a half hours after departing, I arrived at the summit. A warm breeze caressed my skin, sweeping across the outback and a low mountain range. Near a pile of orange stacked rocks, a woman sat crossed-legged, staring at a journal with a pencil in hand. Her brown hair was swept into a ladymessy bun with a few long strands framing her face beneath a black baseball cap that seemed vaguely familiar. Was it her?

"Goanna," I called out.

Her head shot up, and a smile graced her thin lips. She was beautiful in a natural way, cheeks flushed red from the heat, her tanned face only decorated with freckles and cheek dimples instead of make-up. "Tiger, you're late. I've been up here thirty minutes, boiling like a lobster."

My stomach flipped. Had she waited for me? I wasn't the sort of guy women got excited about, but maybe the moonlight had worked in my favour. Yet, here she sat in full daylight grinning at me.

She's waiting for you to say something, anything. Come on mate!

"You're cold-blooded, Goanna. It's good for you." I walked closer and sat a few metres from her. "Tigers are notoriously lazy unless they need to eat."

You should have stuck with the beverage line. Now you look like a prick.

She quirked an eyebrow and chuckled. "That's a strange apology."

I laughed, the action scratching my dry throat, and fished a water bottle out of my bag. The cool liquid made every penny and extra gram of weight of that insulated bottle worth it. Perhaps she had enjoyed our conversation enough to try to run into me. It was vain to assume so, but it would be rude not to apologize. "Sorry, my sister called this morning. Every once in a while, I get enough service to face real life."