Beneath The Full Moon (The Moon Series Trilogy#1)

“There we go...” My camera lights flickered the second I captured the enormous yet complicated-looking tree that stood before me. Curved similar to a witch’s hat, thick branches from different trees fastened to other smaller ones, making the sight appear as if they had all originated from the same seed. Sunlight peeked through the leaves and partially blinded me while I strained my neck to get a better view. At that precise moment, Miguel, my three-year Spaniard partner from the D.N.B. (Displaying Nature’s Beauty) Company, nudged my shoulder.  “Apúrate chica, or we’ll get lost.” “Just one more,” I muttered, my eye focused acutely behind the camera lens before capturing another photo. “Alright, that’s enough.” Not caring whether I was done or not, Miguel grabbed my arm and dragged me towards the group before I even had the chance to take another shot. Scowling behind him as we drew nearer to the tourists, I didn’t miss the tour guide explaining how the name of the forest had come about and how they’d discovered actual werewolves lurking there for many years before they had migrated to avoid the hunters. And how they believed that a handful of vengeful werewolves remained to fight and kill for their land. In truth, I was hearing the words that spewed out of his mouth, but I wasn’t really listening. “Do you think these people buy this stuff about werewolves?” Miguel asked curiously and I shrugged, eyeing the fascinated people around us. “They might,” I answered, watching a man and his wife take a selfie in front of a complex tree trunk. “But what do we care?” He looked at the couple for a moment before agreeing, “We don’t.”  If it wasn’t already obvious, we weren’t actually there for the history, and I certainly wasn’t interested in any of it. So, I diverted my attention to the beautiful intricate trees and on the little stream just in front of our groups' lane. Rocks, littering the ground in a diagonal pattern, permitted water to gush out of them like a kid gliding down an uneven water slide. There were other extraordinary views that I was dying to seize, but when the scrunching footsteps of the group began to move farther, I knew it was time to get going. The whole point of this trip was meant to discover nature and capture the beautiful creations it brought out. Miguel and I travelled almost everywhere around the globe to capture various weird and fascinating scenes of nature. Animals included. And this time was no different. The Black Woods showcased an amazing view of trees that were either crooked, or that had complicated alignments with the others. Some others were huge with small leaves poking out of their branches while other trees were tiny and had broad leaves with long branches that were either attached to themselves or to other trees. Thick vines hanging from the horizontal stems made the appearance even much more appealing. The air was fresh and humid, just as I’d expected. And unlike the congested and polluted atmosphere in the city, everything here was refreshing and natural and I loved every bit of what it all had to offer. Subsequently, I took in a deep, satisfying breath to prove my point. Ah, beautiful. One could see the morning dew still clinging to the plant leaves even though it was in the afternoon, and I couldn’t help but take more photos of them and the other beautiful trees before moving on with the group. The minute I caught the outline of the dusty road before us, I sighed in disappointment. I didn’t want this adventure to be over, much less go back to D.N.B. and be stuck in an office organizing photos, reading requests and signing documents. I wanted to be free. To roam around and absorb all the colours that nature reflexed on the environment. I looked up at Miguel, he seemed to be deep in thought about something or trying to figure something out because of the way his face scrunched up as he stared at his camera. “What’s up, partner?” I asked, bumping his shoulder playfully with mine. He lifted his head slowly and pouted. “My camera is jammed and we’re almost at the tour bus, but I want to get one more picture before we leave.” Miguel sulked. I rolled my eyes and waved my hand. “I don’t know why you weren’t expecting this to happen because it was doomed to die anyway. I mean, look at this thing.” Snatching the camera from his hands, I almost shoved the device in his face. “It’s five years old Miguel, let it go. It looks like it came from the fifties’ recycle garbage.” And it seriously did. The thing was chipped off at certain corners, the surface had severe scratches and the images sometimes blurred while taking pictures with it. “It’s been with me for as long as I can remember.” He snatched it back. “It’s staying with me till it finally falls apart.” “Suit yourself, Miguel.” I raised my hands in defence before removing my camera’s strap from around my neck and handing it to him. “Here, use mine. But change the storage from the SD card to the device storage so you get a limited amount of pictures and so it doesn’t mix up with mine.” “Sí, sí.” He smiled gratefully before stepping away to find some other beauty. After three minutes or so, we reached the tour bus and climbed inside. Miguel sat beside me on the right column seats as our tour guide, John, stood at the front and spoke up. “I hope you all had a good time.” Choruses of ‘yes’, ‘sure’ and ‘absolutely’ echoed throughout the bus. “Good to know, good to know. Now our next stop will be at Cole’s Diner, which according to this brochure is about eleven miles or more from here. That’ll be our last late lunch or I suppose dinner break so get comfortable because our destination will be towards home from there.” Disappointed murmurs rang out at his last words and he grinned before continuing. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourselves, but we must return. Driver, would you please?” he asked before waving at us and taking a seat at the front. The engine revved as the bus driver sparked the bus into action. Miguel tapped my shoulder as we began to move on the dusty road and I turned to see him eyeing a hot redhead at the seat opposite us. She was busy texting on her phone so she couldn’t see Miguel grinning and prompting me to give him the go signal. I rolled my eyes and was about to say something to wound his interests when the bus suddenly lurched forward violently and halted, causing me to jolt forward and bump into the back of the seat before me. After a minute of stunned silence, the bus then began to sway dangerously to the left. Miguel, as did everyone, slid with the motion and ended up bumping into me, making my left shoulder collide with the window. I yelped at the impact, and my head subsequently got squashed between the glass and Miguel’s broad shoulders as the bus’ side began to tip. The atmosphere was immediately switched into panic mode. The tourists were screaming and scrambling to get out of the bus but they kept on flipping over as the bus continued to dip sideways. My neck twisted at an odd angle as I struggled to keep Miguel’s weight off me and move away from the window at the same time. I felt Miguel tug my arm and forced my head to turn, wincing at the pain which grew heavier and more painful as each second passed. I realized that he was trying to pull my arm towards him in order to get both of us to the other side of the bus. My neck hurt badly, but I willed myself to follow suit. Soon after, we were all gripping the seats on the right side of the bus, holding on for our dear lives until the bus’ movements came to an abrupt halt.