by L. E. Harner
The crisp tear of foil sounded unnaturally loud, then a cool liquid spread between his legs. The pressure against his pucker increased, but Uriah didn’t fight any of it.
“Please.” It was all he could think of to say.
****
Gabe lightly slapped his dick against Uriah’s opening, gratified to see the big man writhe and reach for more. Then with the broad head of his cock aligned with the slicked pucker, he pressed forward and breached Uriah’s ass.
“That’s it, Uriah. Nice. Just breathe and relax.” The sharp inhalation of breath and the fine layer of sweat told Gabe there was some discomfort, but he felt the tightly contracted muscle working as Uriah relaxed around him, and he remained still. Diane placed her hand over Uriah’s and he slowly resumed working against her clit as his breath came out in soft pants.
“More,” Uriah grunted. Gabe took that as his signal and began a slow press and retreat, each stroke deeper than the last. Uriah rocked with the rhythm, his moans making it clear he wanted this, wanted more. When Gabe was buried balls deep, he paused to look at his lovers. Together, they were so beautiful that it made his throat tight. He wanted them. Wanted them both with a possessive hunger that threatened to consume him. He would bring them home, care for them, protect them.
With the future stretching out in front of him, Gabe placed a hand on each of Uriah's knees and began to thrust. Slow, deep, and so fucking hot. “Goddamn, Uriah, you feel so good.” I'm not going to last much longer. “Suck him, Diane. I want to see you take him. Swallow him down, sweetheart.”
Diane leaned over his tight abs and buried her nose in the fine hair at the base of his cock. She pulled all that thick length into her mouth and began to slide her lips in time with Gabe’s strokes. She kept one hand moving quickly over her clit, Uriah’s fingers still buried in her pussy. Gabe felt the muscles around him starting to quiver and knew that Uriah was close, too.
“Now. I want you to come for me now,” Gabe said. He kept his voice soft, just above a whisper.
Diane visibly jerked and shuddered, her hand slowing to a few tiny movements. Her jaw worked and her lips stretched tight around Uriah’s cock. Her moans of pleasure were sure to add to the sensations.
“Oh, fuck. Gonna come,” Uriah said. His back arched against the sleeping bags, neck stretched out, and he grunted with each hard thrust of Gabe's cock. As Uriah’s channel spasmed with his release, Gabe let his own tight control slip and came with him in a shuddering, screaming climax that tightened his muscles and left him feeling as if he'd died and gone to heaven. Nothing in life would ever be this good again.
Gabe slowly withdrew from Uriah, tossed the condom to the side, and stretched out next the big man. Diane mirrored his movements until they had Uriah cocooned between them. Brushing a soothing hand over Uriah’s chest, Gabe leaned on an elbow and looked down at his lover. “You okay, college boy?” He didn’t wait for an answer, but cupped Uriah’s jaw in his hand and captured his mouth. His kiss was returned, not with fire, just a sweet press of lips, a lazy swipe of tongue. When Diane joined them in their kiss, Gabe felt his heart swell and he blinked against an unfamiliar sting. He draped his arm over Diane's back and held tight. He wanted this feeling to last forever.
Chapter Eleven
Uriah stretched out his legs and considered his options. He’d been hiking for hours in a slow, ever-expanding circle around the cliffs that towered on the east side of their campsite. Looking at the steady light building in the east and the touch of pink just beginning to bloom in the pre-sunrise sky, Uriah knew he had to hurry. Using Gabe’s observations from his reconnaissance on their first afternoon and a process of elimination, they knew where their shooter would have hidden. Given the harsh landscape, there were only so many places a sniper could hide and still have a clear shot.
Scrub brush and desert sage were not enough to offer him protection and that was all that remained between him and where he needed to be. If their sniper had come back to try again, Uriah would be walking directly into his line of fire, if he happened to be looking in this direction.
Now that he could see the lay of the land, it was obvious now someone had been deliberately shooting at them. The question remained whether one of them was a specific target or was this a more and random act. He looked to the west as he drank his water and knew there really was no other choice. He had to take a chance that it was random and hope that the shooter was already gone. Because there was no way he was going to let Gabe and Diane hike out tomorrow if there was any possibility at all of shooter aiming in their direction.
By his reckoning, Uriah had another two miles to circle around the butte that overlooked their beach. It had to be the place where the shooter waited for them. Up until now his path across the flats would have been shielded unless someone had specifically been looking. The way he figured it, if this was a deliberate attack, then the shooter would be still facing the beach. Given that no one had shot at him yet odds were pretty good his approach up until now had been unobserved. With a mental shrug, Uriah stood, brushed the dust from his shorts and resettled his hydration pack to sit more comfortably on his shoulders. With a heavy sense of inevitability he started a zigzagging jog across the last remaining open space. There was no sense in making himself an easy target if someone really was waiting with a rifle and scope.
****
“God, I wish he’d get back.” Diane pushed at her hair and winced at how hard it was to summon enough energy for such a small movement, even in the relatively cool air of the early morning hours. Of course that might have something to do with their evening activities and the too few hours of sleep. Gabe grunted from where he leaned back against the cliff wall with his eyes closed. He’d been sitting like that for over an hour. Still. Was he calm or just too tired to move? Rather than wake her when it was her turn to stand watch, he’d been the one to stay up to keep an eye out for trouble from a possible unseen enemy.
Now Uriah had been gone since long before sunrise, looking for signs of that same unseen assailant. Diane was sure all danger was past. Obviously the no one was just hanging out at the top of the cliff waiting to take shots each time they emerged. After all, no one had taken a shot since that first afternoon. She’d argued long and hard that it was a random incident, most likely as Uriah had suggested, some young kid from the reservation.
Although she’d wanted them to stay together, she’d been forced to admit they couldn’t stay huddled under the ledge, or glued to the binoculars looking for signs of movement. It seemed logical that if one of them was a target, then the shooter had to be familiar with the backcountry pass process. Since she and Uriah were set to hike out today and Gabe tomorrow, this would be the likely day for their assailant to return.
Her throat tightened and the breath shuddered into her lungs. With a raised eyebrow, Gabe looked over at where she sat blinking away the sudden blur of tears.
“Everything okay, Dee?”
“Yeah… I’m just worried about Uriah, I guess.”
“He’s a big boy, and out of the three of us, sending him was the best decision. He’s the most fit to hike in this heat, and he seems like he more than knew what he was doing in the desert terrain.” Gabe pushed himself up from his slump.
“Can ask you something, Gabe?” Diane asked. Her heart sped up a little and she wondered if she was making a mistake. Was it too soon?
“Sure. Not sure I have any secrets left from you.”
“Last night… That felt… I don’t even know how to explain it. I felt so much more than I've ever felt. It's always been just sex before, you know? Last night felt like love. How you know the difference?”
“You’re asking the wrong person, Dee. I’ve never been in love.” Gabe looked toward the Colorado River and Diane realized he was hiding his feelings from her.
“Gabe, what is it? What aren't you telling me?”
****
He looked down on the little campsite. He could just make out the woman's legs inside t
heir cave. It wasn't worth the shot. The one he wanted was hiding. He'd had to leave them unobserved while he'd gone back to the park. Too many questions would be raised if he'd not shown up for his volunteer stint. Now, no one would look for him for the next three days and by the time they found him, it would be too late. He stroked the barrel of his rifle, aimed his cross hairs at the woman's thigh and wondered if he'd be able to hit the femoral artery at this distance.
He lowered the barrel, took a sip of his water, and shifted his pack to make himself more comfortable. Who knew how long today would take? At some point the men would come outside and he would have plenty of time to line a shot and finish what he’d set out to do.
“Why are you doing this?”
Startled at the question, he turned around, squinted into the sun, and tried to identify who was speaking to him. Then he realized the wind in his head had brought him a spirit. At first, he thought it was his father because, after all, the gold had been his secret. A secret passed on by his own father, Joe’s grandfather. The legend of Glen and Bessie Hyde had been told for generations. The sad tale of the honeymoon that ended in their mysterious disappearance in 1928, more than one hundred miles down river from where Bessie had hidden a satchel of gold coins. The mystery had never been solved. No one had ever thought to look upriver since she and her husband had disappeared near river mile two thirty-two.
Of course, no one knew about the coins except his grandfather. Months after the couple was reported missing, Bessie had returned alone for her gold and his grandfather had killed her. Bessie hadn’t deserved the money; it was Joe’s legacy, now.
As was his family duty, he’d kept the secret until the time had come to use it for good, not evil. Pete. His Pete. He’d come to hurt the Navajo then learned to love his own heritage. Joe and Pete would have done good things for their people with the treasure, but first they’d needed to clear the way, to help Pete escape. His lover had said he was going home to take care of things and then would return forever.
“I asked why you were doing this,” the voice said again.
“You betrayed me,” Joe answered, still squinting at the sun. “I know the truth now. You aren’t really dead. You lied so you could come here and steal my treasure. Take your spirit and return to your body, Pete. I saw your wife, I know you took a white man lover. It’s too late now—you can’t stop this.”
Turning his back on the spirit, Joe raised the rifle once again. There was no wind, nothing to interfere with his shot. He might've missed the first time, but he’d been upset. He would not miss again. His lover's betrayal could not be tolerated and he would leave no one behind who could steal his legacy or reveal his secrets.
There was no one visible, but he could see from the play of shadows that there was movement in the little cave. They were coming out.
“You never should've lied to me, Pete. You promised we could be together forever. Now, I'm going to make sure that happens.”
****
Moving silently, Uriah approached from the blind side of the sniper’s rocky shelter. After all the miles and hours, he was less than a mile from where he started, as the raven flew. It wouldn't be a place where the casual hiker would ever stumble across. It was technically challenging and with the shale and loose rock, anyone other than the mountain goat was in danger of plunging five hundred feet to the canyon floor below.
Further away from the river, sounds carried in this particular part of the canyon. Uriah heard the man talking to himself. No…to Pete. Holy hell the man thinks he’s talking to Pete. What the hell does he mean they can be together forever? Pete is already dead.
Taking a deep breath Uriah steeled himself to look around the protective rock to get a fix on where the man was standing. He pulled in a breath held it, then risked a look. Pulling back, he assessed the situation. The man was on his belly, elbows propped, gun resting on a small boulder. His face was pressed next to the stock as he sighted through the scope on his rifle.
Uriah's breath caught in his throat. He knew he had to act fast. From his position the sniper would be able to see at least a few feet into their partial cave. He had no idea where Gabe or Diane were, but eventually one of them would move near the entrance or step out. He released the safety on Gabe’s gun. He hadn't wanted to bring it…was unsure he could use it. Now, seeing the man pointing a gun at the people Uriah was pretty sure he was beginning to love was more than he could take.
Looking from his own hand gun and back to the rifle, he realized ordering the man to drop it like they did on TV wasn’t going to work. Plus, the rifle was already trained on somebody; the prick could pull the trigger. It wasn't in him to step out and shoot the bastard in the back, but the people below were counting on Uriah and he wouldn't let them down. Moving quietly, he scooped up a handful of small rocks.
With one more quick look to make sure the man hadn't moved, Uriah tossed the rocks ten feet to his left. He heard the brush of sand, the clatter of metal against stone, and he knew the ruse had diverted the weapon away from pointing at the cave. He stepped out with the gun griped in both hands and hoped the other man didn't notice the tremor.
“Put down the rifle. There's nobody here to hurt you— I won't hurt you, but you have to put down the gun.”
“Pete? They told me you were dead. But you're not dead. You came to take my gold. And you brought her with you. You lied to me. You said you loved me.”
“Pete was my brother. My name is Uriah. I'm not Pete. I know you. Joe, right? I saw you at the ranger station.”
Shaking his head, Joe started to breathe fast. “Don't. Don't. Don't lie to me. You promised. Never again. I won't believe you. We’re to be together forever. We’re going to be dead.” Joe's hand started to shake, the rifle twitched as it turned to aim toward Uriah. Everything seemed to slow. He watched as the long, slender barrel came up, Joe's finger found the trigger. His own gun hung heavy in his hand and he knew he stared into the face of his own death.
“Wait, Joe. Don’t you want to know?” The rifle lowered fractionally, but Uriah wasn't sure that was much better. A belly shot would just take longer to die.
“Know what? I spoke with you on Saturday. You said you'd be here. You said you were leaving your wife for me. I thought you loved me. ”
Realizing he was fighting for his life with a very unstable man, Uriah took a deep breath before he spoke. He really didn’t want to hurt him. Whether or not Pete had loved him, his brother had certainly taken advantage of the man. He was prepared to do just about anything to bring this man back from the edge of his delusion. “Look at me, Joe. I am not Pete.”
Joe's eyes blinked rapidly and the barrel of the rifle drifted farther to the right. Uriah took that as a good sign. He started to inch forward as he kept talking.
“Did you know he had a brother named Uriah? That’s me. I’m his brother. People say we looked a lot alike. Do you think I look like Pete? He was older than me.” Uriah risked breaking steady eye contact and turned his head away so that his hair showed, a long tail hanging behind his back. “See my hair, Joe? It's long. Pete didn't have long hair. I'm taller than him, too.”
Uriah looked back in time to see Joe lower the rifle even more and the muscles in his belly began to relax.
Joe’s eyes filled with tears and his whole body seemed to slump in on itself. “You really aren’t Pete, are you?”
“No, but he was my brother, and I did love him. You should know that he and his wife were getting divorced. He must have been coming out here to be with you. You don’t need to hurt anybody. Why don’t you give me the rifle? We can walk back together. Maybe talk a little more about Pete.”
“Pete’s never coming back,” Joe said, and the tears started to spill. Uriah walked forward slowly. He would take the gun and wrap his arms around this poor broken man. Then he could lead him back to their camp and together the three of them would take him home and give him the help he needed to heal.
As Uriah moved toward Joe, the rifle swung upwa
rd. He had only an instant as the barrel settled underneath the other man's chin. Uriah leaped and grabbed for the gun. Wrapping his hand around the trigger guard, he clamped Joe’s hand in place before he could pull the trigger. He held on to the barrel of the rifle with the other hand, trying to push it to the side, to prevent either of them from getting hurt. They were as close together as lovers, struggling in a deadly, silent dance.
Crrraaaack.
The world exploded. He felt the impact of the shot against his chest, and the two men fell to the ground, covered in blood.
****
The sound of the shot as it reverberated around the canyon brought Gabe to his feet and moving cautiously to the mouth of the cave. When Diane tried to race in front of him he shoved her roughly out of the way. “Get back.”
“Uriah! Oh God— what if something happened to Uriah?”
Gabe ignored her and looked to the top of the cliff, toward the site they’d agreed was the most likely spot for their assailant to have hidden. He squinted into the sun but it was too far away to make out any details. They couldn't go out, they had no cell service. Now it was a waiting game. It might only be a mile as the bullet flied but it was a hell of a lot farther on foot. It would take Uriah at least four hours to hike back around to access their remote campsite. All he could do now was try to offer Dee the comfort that they both needed.
“We have to trust him, Diane. We have to trust that everything's okay.”
“I never told him. I never told either of you that I love you,” she said softly crying around her words.
Gabe wrapped her up in his arms and lowered them both to the floor of the cave, to resume his position against the wall. He buried his face in her hair and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “He knows, sweetheart. We both know.”
****
The continuous pounding of the Colorado River faded into the background, a low rumbling always present and somehow unnoticeable for its constancy. He knew they wouldn’t likely hear him over the rush of water, but he needed a little more space than his morning alone had provided. He needed to wash off the blood.