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CHAPTER ONE
The icy water numbed Lila's fingers. She worked methodically, the lantern casting a golden halo that danced across the ripples, banishing shadows from where she hunched by the creek bed. Each swish of the pan sent a wave of liquid whispers through the stillness, accompanied by the occasional clink of sediment against metal. She held the gold pan tightly, shivering in the cold breeze. The sight of the old tourist ghost town was visible at the base of the hill. She glanced towards the glowing lights coming from the small, dilapidated structures enfolded in the valley, but then returned her eyes to the business at hand.
"Come on," she muttered to herself, swirling the contents again, eyes keen for a glimmer, a sparkle, anything that would vindicate her tireless pursuit. The water sluiced back into the creek, carrying away gravel and grit, leaving behind only the heavier materials. But gold remained as elusive as ever.
"Stubborn," she whispered, not sure if she referred to the elusive ore or herself. Her hands, reddened from the chill, never ceased their movement. They knew the motions by heart: dip, swirl, tilt, and repeat—a litany of hope against the cold truth of empty pans.
Lila paused, flexing her stiff fingers before plunging them back into the water. "I know you're here," she breathed out, more a pledge than a statement.
She glanced at the lantern, its fuel running low, a silent reminder of time slipping away. Yet, the thought of returning to camp empty-handed spurred her onward. She had promised James it was going to be a worthwhile trip, and promises were not made to be broken—not by Lila.
"Next pan will have it," she assured herself, though the creek offered no reply, just the incessant babble of water over stone, a soundtrack to her solitary quest. The darkness beyond her pool of light seemed to lean in closer, but she shook off the creeping unease. There was gold here. She just had to find it.
The shrill crackle of static cut through the night, followed by a familiar voice that seemed out of place against the whispering symphony of the wilderness. "Lila, come back to camp. It's getting too dark to see anything."
Lila thumbed the walkie-talkie, her grip firm despite the chill nibbling at her skin. "Just a few more minutes, James. I've got a good feeling about this spot."
"Good feelings don't pan out gold," came his reply, laced with concern. "It's not safe out there alone. Please, Lila."
She sighed, staring into the blackness beyond the lantern's reach; shadows danced with every flicker, playing tricks on her eyes. The forest seemed to close in around her, a silent, oppressive entity. Even the stars, veiled by treetop canopies, offered no solace. A part of her knew James was right—alone by the creek, she was a stranger to these woods, and they to her.
But the legend gnawed at her… The Bride's Bounty, some called out. Only a few were in the know, but if she found evidence of it here. That this waterway was rich with payload… Just a bit more. She just needed a bit more time.
"Fine," she conceded, her voice barely louder than the rustling leaves. "Ten minutes. Then I'll pack it in." She released the button, cutting off whatever protest he had started to voice.
The solitude weighed heavily upon her as she returned to her task, the weight of unseen gazes prickling her skin. Her heart drummed a staccato rhythm in her chest, echoing the pitter-patter of droplets from her saturated gloves. Every small sound—a twig snapping, an owl hooting—seemed amplified, a stark reminder of just how alone she was.
Lila scooped up another panful of sediment, the grains shimmering dully in the lantern's glow. Her movements were mechanical now, driven by muscle memory rather than conscious thought. As she swirled the water, her mind wandered, chasing after the glint of something precious, something worth all this.
"Nothing but dirt and rocks," she murmured, her determination waning as the reality of another fruitless day settled in. And yet, the promise of gold, the dreams she and James had spun together, kept her rooted to the spot.
Sweeping her gaze across the creek, Lila tried to pierce the darkness that loomed just beyond the light's embrace. She felt as if the night itself watched her, its breath a cold caress against her neck. The isolation was complete, an insidious whisper that she didn't belong here—that the earth would never yield its treasures to an outsider like her.
She scolded herself, a futile attempt to ward off the creeping dread that threatened to engulf her.
"Alright, James. Heading back now," she finally spoke into the walkie-talkie, her voice steady despite the unease that clawed at her insides.
"Copy that. Be careful," James replied, his relief evident even through the static.
Her hand trembled as she clipped the device to her belt. She cast one last longing look at the water, the darkness creeping ever closer, before gathering her tools.
She hesitated, though, staring at the water, scowling. Her look of longing had now turned to one of resentment, like a lover scorned. Unrequited love had caused more than one heartbreak, and Lila's affair with the creek was no exception. Every night for a week, she'd come out here. And every night... nothing.
But tonight, she'd felt as if it would be different.
Was she really going to pack it in?
One last pan.
Just one more.
She nodded to herself. She dropped a few of the tools, clutched at the pan, and bent low once more.
Lila's fingers, like pale specters, skimmed the creek's chilly surface. A soft, metallic swish sounded each time her hand shifted the water, coaxing secrets from its depths. The lantern flickered, sending shadows dancing against the rocks and trees, a quiet audience to her late-night quest.
"Come on," she muttered under her breath. Her eyes, sharp and discerning, tracked the ripples, looking for the glint of yellow that haunted her dreams. That's when something odd nudged her palm, something too smooth for the jagged embrace of gravel.
"Huh," she whispered, her frown deepening as she wrapped her fingers around it. The creek seemed to hold its breath, the trees leaning in ever so slightly.
