Thunder rumbled, so hard and deeply that the ground trembled. Karl felt it in his chest. Gulls, usually impervious to everything, chattered and took wing from their perches along the cliffs.
“We’re kinda prime targets up here once that arrives.” Dan picked a pathway over a series of boulders, and Karl didn’t hesitate to follow. “And it isn’t exactly cooperating with us and taking its time.”
“No shit. I think our best bet is to see what that red thing is and then bug out of here—and if we can’t make it, hunker down.”
Dan nodded grimly and made for the cluster of rocks that Karl indicated. They clambered onto them, almost up and over, so they were atop the cliffs.
“Wow,” Dan panted. “Better circumstances, and I’d be breathless from the view instead.”
Karl offered a tight smile. The view was incredible—ocean on three sides, terrible white surf churning far below, the station around the bend of the land in the distance, and the black hulk of the storm approaching like a bulbous, enraged beast spitting shards of blue fire.
“You still got us, Trask?”
“Copy. I see you both.”
Their guys in the air and water looked like toys against such a backdrop, and Karl felt even smaller. Trask’s steady answer reassured him.
“All right. Let’s find this little bit of mystery and get out of here. Something tells me there’re no kids to be found.” Karl boosted into the crotch where several huge boulders that had eroded onto the lower tier met and spilled like a pile of coins cut from a purse.
“Be careful.”
He nodded and continued to scrabble over the wet surface. Dan gave him a solid push that enabled him to gain the next set of boulders. The red thing fluttered in the wind, and he could almost reach it, but before he got any farther, Dan caught up and held him back.
“Wait.” Dan dropped his pack, got out safety rope, and rigged a line to the side of the boulders. “Just in case.” He stepped into a harness, clipped in, and looked at Karl.
“Good call.” Karl did the same as Dan, and they shrugged back into their packs.
A fluttering red hunk of fabric wasn’t a bleeding child to take an unavoidable risk over, and even if it were, they’d be no good to it if they lost their footing. Karl tested the line, set his stance, and climbed the remaining distance.
He got a grip on it, but instead of yanking at it, he followed to where it was stuck between the rocks. He had to lie down and work his shoulder into the gap. He closed his eyes and traced along the fabric, thinking he’d find a bunched end knotted or snagged against the rock. Almost at the end of his strained reach, he bumped into something hard and cold—metal. It was rounded and pushed into the ground, anchoring the fabric.
That prickle of nerves and foreboding rippled over him again. His breath echoed in his ear, and sweat itched his scalp, neck, and behind his knees.
“What is it?” Dan shouted over the wind and coming thunder.
“I don’t know, but it’s not a victim or a missing kid. It seems like it was put here deliberately, but no idea why. It’s material of some sort, orange red color, and has some markings on it,” he yelled.
Karl gave it a hard tug, but it didn’t even budge. He grunted and dug into the boulder with his toes to inch up and up. He winced and shifted position as his knees ground into the rock. As he slithered along, he grabbed the end of the boulder with his other hand and dragged himself up to peer over the edge as his blood rushed to his head to roar in his ears.
He had a much clearer look from that vantage, and something about the fabric clanged in his mind and sent cold spikes of awful certainty and prescience through him.
“Wait, I think I know what this is.”
Karl lifted his hips, pushed with his toes in a burst of movement, grabbed the fabric at the metal anchor, and prepared to hard roll back onto the boulder and hopefully wrench it free.
He started to slip and barely caught himself at the hips to dangle over the thrust of an outlying boulder. The fall punched the air from his diaphragm, and he coughed, fought to suck in a breath, and forced it out again. He repeated the cycle until his breaths were even and natural, and then he carefully started to inch his way back.
The ground trembled, and thunder cracked so loudly it deafened him. A blinding flash sizzled, surrounded him, and the air was sucked from his lungs when he shouted for Dan. He lost his hold on the rock, lost his footing, and went into a free fall as the whole world seemed to split open.
DAN came to with a jerk. The last he remembered, Karl’s voice was drowned in thunder as a blinding flash and sudden free fall sent him careening from the cliff. He cast both hands about, and rocks scattered under his palms.
“Karl?” he croaked but got no answer.
He winced when a stitch in his side twanged, and his face throbbed like he’d been hit with a shovel, but he forced his hands to make fists, his feet to flex, and his legs and arms to bunch. Something heavy sat between his shoulder blades, and he gingerly got to his hands and knees under the weight. As he straightened the weight thudded to the ground—a rock, the same dark charcoal color as the cliffs, and not a small one.
Fear and pain and confusion ran riot in his mind, but he grabbed hold of each and crushed them down and down until they were silent. His first instinct was to bolt, scream for Karl and help, but that would do no good. Save yourself so you can save everyone else. He’d heard that enough times for it to be automatic. So he dug in and did a quick self-triage, assessed his state and surroundings as best he could, and rose unsteadily to his feet.
At first he thought the bright flash that knocked him down had blinded him, but he could make out blobby shapes and shades of gray. When he kicked around to search for his pack, he found it a few feet away. He flicked the cap from a flare, closed his eyes, sparked it to light, and watched the flame flicker amber orange through his eyelids until the brightness wasn’t glaring. Then he opened one eye a slit and tossed it to what seemed the darkest area to get a sense of the space he was in.
A wet, dark, quiet space.
He wasn’t a fan of small wet spaces. It took a minute for his eyes to adjust and the disorientation to fade, so he pulled in slow, steady breaths while the ringing in his ears and strafed skin calmed. Then he clipped a combo lantern to his chest and turned it on.
Dan stood in a cave not much more than two inches taller than him and only a few wider than his outstretched arms. No daylight penetrated, and he couldn’t hear the ocean. The line he’d safety tied into the cliff was still tethered to him. The end that connected him to Karl was buried in rubble.
The clamoring fear he’d locked away spiked into pure panic, and he doubled over and almost retched before he could battle it back down again. Dan dug in his pack for water and made himself take one, two, three shaky sips. Then he forced past the chaos and recentered. He had to rescue Karl. Framing it that way allowed him to step back and calm down.
“Karl? Karl!” Heedless of his scraped hands and tired arms, Dan began to remove the rocks that pinned the line.
He thought he heard an answer, but it could be wishful thinking. As he dug, the pile shifted, and he jumped sideways and was almost plowed under by a rockslide. Even before it stilled he resumed his digging, testing each rock as he moved it away, and making sure not to disturb the whole thing.
Dan concentrated top-down to the place where the rope disappeared in the pile. He pushed at a huge rock, but it wouldn’t budge, so he changed his stance, pushed harder and levered onto his toes as his arms bent and he pushed with his chest.
Slowly, slowly the rock moved, just when his body felt stretched to the breaking point. Dan shoved his arm in the hole that his efforts had exposed and felt around. He shoved his pack through next, and it landed somewhere on the other side with a promising thump.
“Karl?” he yelled. Rocks scattered to tumble down the pile’s other side as he crawled through and followed the line.
He couldn’t stand the thought of losing K
arl on top of everything else—not after losing Axe and finding out the kind of person his brother seemed to be. He couldn’t take it. Not Karl too—especially not Karl.
“Are you here? Can you answer me?” He remembered to breathe. “Answer me!”
Dan kept talking as he tugged at the rope. He had to plow through another, smaller pile of rock, into an even smaller cave, and his heart stopped when he could see the other side. Karl’s body lay sprawled on the ground, one arm up behind him at an awkward angle.
“No,” he breathed. “No, no….”
The darkness threatened to swallow him whole, and Dan swayed. Fury overtook fear, and he surged the rest of the way through the rock pile, not feeling it as he battered his arms and left bruises on his palms. He skidded to the floor and didn’t know if he could bring himself to lift Karl up to check the damage.
“Hey, kid.”
Dan watched in disbelief and crazy hope as Karl shifted from his slumped position and waved with his bent arm. Then he actually smiled—a huge, incredible, relieved smile.
“Shit, am I glad to see you. Kinda stuck here.” Karl flapped his raised arm for emphasis.
Life surged back into Dan’s limbs and numb heart. He ran over, dropped to his knees, and started to dig Karl free. Only Karl’s clothing was caught, bunched at the elbow and whitening Karl’s hand, but it was caught tight.
“I didn’t want to pull too hard and have this come down on me or something. But if you hadn’t answered my calls or shown up in another minute, to hell with that, I was coming to find you.” Karl continued to smile but his eyes shimmered.
Dan could only nod as he concentrated and removed strategic rocks and pushed others back. He tested the hold on Karl’s sleeve, shifted more rocks around, and then shouted in triumph when he could ease Karl’s arm loose. He rubbed the length of it, dug into cold muscles, and ignored Karl’s indrawn gasp of pain.
“Blood’s gotta flow or it’ll hurt worse later.” As he massaged, he tilted this way and that and visually checked Karl’s condition. The feel of Karl’s pulse under his fingers was as vital as his own.
“Dammit. I know—ouch. That’s enough.”
When Karl tried to pull away, everything Dan had been holding back snapped.
“It isn’t. It isn’t enough. Isn’t,” he babbled.
Dan unclipped the lantern and tossed it aside. The beam threw funny shadows as it rolled and then cast a low glow that bounced off the ceiling. He dug his knee in, lifted Karl under both arms, and hauled Karl to him so hard he fell backward against the curved wall.
“How are—”
Dan cut Karl’s words with a kiss. It was messy and urgent, almost violent, and he scraped his teeth up Karl’s chin and caught Karl’s full lower lip. Karl grunted as he sucked at it and he licked inside Karl’s mouth. He chased that sound and poured all his anxiety and longing into the kiss.
Karl was everything he needed—sure and steady and alive. Dan inhaled, full of Karl’s spicy scent and sweat. He widened his mouth and tugged, but Karl shifted, and he couldn’t prevent it with his awkward hold. It left him gasping.
Their gazes clashed, and Dan couldn’t make out what questions lurked in Karl’s eyes. He didn’t care.
“Don’t give me that look. Just kiss me again.” Dan got his feet under him and sat up so he could yank Karl to him again.
Karl let him, and Dan attacked Karl’s mouth, nipping and panting against Karl’s lips as his hands charged all around and he half rose onto his knees to grind his hips on Karl. He wanted to feel everything at once and be certain Karl was whole and okay. Karl accepted his demanding exploration, but as his pulse started to slow, Dan realized that Karl wasn’t kissing him back.
Dan broke the kiss to retreat, but he didn’t get far.
“C’mere,” Karl growled. He resituated them, pressed Dan against the wall, and got in close. He dragged his hands along Dan’s thighs to open them and then hooked his thumbs at the hinge of Dan’s jaw and took control of the kiss.
Dan closed his eyes and yielded, reveled in it. Karl swept his hands all over him as Dan had done, but with far more focus and purpose. With his powerful thumbs, he dug into his arms—every joint—and then over each rib.
His breath stuttered, and Karl retraced the top two ribs, but then he gave a low, satisfied laugh. The sweeping touch felt amazing, even through the bulky layers of his gear, and then it wasn’t nearly enough.
Dan ripped his and Karl’s caps off and tangled his hands in Karl’s thick, dark hair. It curled around his fingers, just like he’d imagined it would, and he hummed with pleasure. Karl followed his lead, tugged the zipper of Dan’s coat, yanked at all his tucked-in shirts at once, and then skimmed both hands under them and against Dan’s skin.
Fire danced beneath Karl’s hands, and Dan sighed. All of his repressed want of the past weeks and his terror from the last few moments seeped from him as warm, honeyed heat filled those cold voids instead. His hands shook as he undid Karl’s jacket and layers and strayed to the button of Karl’s sturdy marine cargos.
Karl laughed again—a low tangling burr that made Dan’s insides flip-flop—and pushed into Dan’s questioning reach. He ripped his coat off, shoved it behind Dan’s head, and then dove in for another kiss.
Dan ground against Karl the moment their bodies touched. His eyes widened, and he made helpless noises into Karl’s mouth when their cocks brushed and Karl’s dragged wetly over his belly. Their exposure to each other was small, haphazard, and plenty. He tightened the circle of his legs and shoved his hands in to grab Karl’s shoulder blades. They rippled and heaved in his hold as Karl guided their frantic rutting movements.
He lost sense of everything except Karl. The rescue mission, the strange cave they’d found themselves in, even the reason fled from his awareness. All he knew was Karl’s taste and heat, the perfect fit of their bodies, and the low, urgent sounds of encouragement Karl made for him.
His lungs fought for air so painfully that they started to constrict his throat. He wrenched away to suck in air, but Karl chased right after him and barely allowed him a breath before he sealed their mouths back together. Karl bent his legs so his knees went higher and his hips tilted deeper, and then he got a hand between them.
“Fuck, fuck,” Karl said against his lips when he fisted their cocks together and stroked.
He kept saying it—dirty and needy but sweet like an endearment—and Dan’s entire being pooled into the palm of Karl’s hand.
It didn’t take long for him to finish. He pushed up so he could kiss Karl through it, but his teeth clenched, and he bit Karl’s lip. Karl shuddered and lost rhythm, and Dan bit him on purpose.
Dan braced his shoulders back and punched his hips. He curled his fingers and dragged his nails down Karl’s sides. Karl growled something filthy, tightened his hold around them, and spiraled Dan to completion.
Chapter Ten
KARL couldn’t feel his feet, his entire body was a bruise, and he was trapped in a cave. He hadn’t felt so good in years.
He tightened his arms around Dan and allowed himself to rest his forehead on Dan’s shoulder and close his eyes. He couldn’t fully surrender, not like he wanted to, but he relaxed and soaked in Dan’s warmth and relived the satisfaction of seeing Dan’s obvious worry, obvious relief, and obvious want for him.
The worry and relief had shaken him to his core too, but he refused to regret his response to Dan’s kiss. He hoped he’d get the chance to pursue it further, in much more accommodating circumstances, but at present they didn’t have the luxury to linger.
“Okay.” He sounded whiskey-rough and well used.
Dan trembled and burrowed closer. Karl swallowed down the rough catches and licked his lips.
“Okay, let’s get,” he tried again. He made himself let go of Dan and moved with brisk purpose to stand, stamp the beestings from his legs, right his clothes, unclip from the damn line that still tied him to Dan, and get his gear in order.
Dan scowle
d up at him, but Karl shook his head.
“Come on.” He turned away because looking made him want to kneel back down and kiss Dan’s pout into breathlessness. Instead Karl retrieved Dan’s lantern and held it out until Dan took it. He got his own out, snapped it on, and then left Dan sitting there.
“Move it, Farnsworth.” His voice was sharp, and he didn’t apologize.
He crawled through the passes Dan had dug in the rocks because his unerring sense of direction told him that way led to out—or the closest to out they could get. He listened for Dan to follow and breathed a low sigh when Dan did, but he didn’t slow down or wait.
At the farthest point, he pressed his ear to a seam in the rocks. He could make out the sound of waves and he could feel on his cheek the low whistles of wind that penetrated the rocks. He tested the stability of a stack of rocks and lifted the one that gave way easiest. Two more followed, and he thought he saw daylight.
“Get over here and help me.”
Dan glared mutinously for a moment, and then his expression went blank, and he joined Karl.
Karl hated it—it tore through him—but they had a duty to do more than moon at each other.
They cleared enough to make a peephole and get fresh air. Dan started to move a bigger stone, and the whole assembly trembled, so he immediately stilled. They hardly breathed. After an agonizing minute, nothing happened, so Karl dropped his pack, grabbed a rescue flare, and popped the caps. He lit it, pushed it outside, and jammed it between two rocks. The colored smoke billowed and clouded toward the cave entrance but then the wind found it and sucked it outside, up and up.
He had no clue where his radio ended up—probably crushed in the landslide that nearly did him in—and Dan’s wasn’t squawking, so he figured both were lost. But the team would be looking for them and would see the smoke. It was just a matter of time.
Next Karl set to making them as comfortable as possible in the interim. He surveyed the cave for a place to rest and picked the curved inner wall away from any teetering rocks but close to the vent. He unloaded his pack and tugged Dan’s free. Dan didn’t protest or acknowledge him, but Karl didn’t stop. With their combined gear, he made a sandwich of thin wool blankets and a thermal wrap, used their bags as pillows, and laid out water and food.
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