“Dogs and guns. Can’t battle both. The cats, the few that are left, I figured would be able to keep them occupied while you all escaped. There was even a chance I could get away as well before your FBI showed up. Sabre-toothed cats are destined for extinction no matter what, so if they all die by Victor’s guns tomorrow . . .”
She’s crying. She sniffles and then sits up. I’m disappointed and relieved.
“Sit back against the tree,” she says.
“Why?”
“Don’t ask why. Just do it, please.”
I put my back to the tree. She pushes my legs apart, sits between them and leans back against me, pulling my arms around her. She says nothing. I say nothing. My hormones are running the quarter mile, over and over again. If I tried to say something, I’d probably be embarrassed by it later. Smart men know when to keep their mouth shut. But then a smart man probably wouldn’t let women that are not his wife, particularly this woman, snuggle up against him.
I proved eight years ago that I wasn’t that smart.
“Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had a real relationship, Zach?”
“Other than Vandermill?” I manage to say.
She stiffens and her voice turns angry. “I don’t count Victor as a relationship. I was his slave, his prisoner slave.” She relaxes. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“Not counting him, do you know who the last man was that I have lain in bed with, that I have had sex with, that has touched me at all?”
Am I supposed to know the answer to this?
“It’s been over eight years, Zach.”
A picture pops into my mind from hers. I hadn’t been trying to read her but all of a sudden there it is. The little moving picture is me.
“It was you,” she confirms. She lets that thought sink in for a bit, and then she continues. “After running away from Victor, I was busy trying to build a new identity. I couldn’t afford to let anyone into my life. It was no big deal at first, but then I started getting lonely. Living the life of a hermit is not all it’s cracked up to be, especially if you’re a woman. A woman needs to be touched. It’s a damn weakness. That’s why we’re in trouble now. I let people into my life. Into my house for God’s sake. And then into my cyberspace which is what got your daughter here. I don’t think I invited her, but she says I did. Maybe it was that I didn’t discourage her, which I really should have done when I suspected who she was.”
She breathes deep and relaxes more against me. “It really is all my fault. I shouldn’t have tried to blame Reba. She was just being a seventeen year old girl looking for adventure, the same kind of adventure that I was looking for near the same age, which got me into the La Brea Tar Pits in Southern California. Hell, you could blame me all the way back to there.” She shakes her head. “No. It’s not Reba’s fault. She found me because I put myself out there to be found. Very very VERY very stupid.”
I say nothing.
She laughs. “Remember how I’d sneak into your room and lay with you?”
“Yes.” How could I ever forget?
“I told you it had nothing to do with sex, that I just needed comfort, and someone to talk to. I won’t say that was a lie. I did need those things. Still do. The lie was that it had nothing to do with sex. I wanted you so bad I couldn’t stand it. I lusted after you.”
I remain silent, breathing in the smell of her, her pure natural, animal smell, a smell that has my extremities tingling with excitement. Like back then when she would slide under my sheets and lay next to me, I can feel every square inch of her body where it touches mine, my arms up under her breasts, the motion of her chest as she breathes.
“Still do.”
Nothing more is said. I should push her away. I should go back to my family and start making plans to save our lives. No! There’s no I should to it. I have to go back. It’s not a matter of choice; do the right thing,
I drop my arms from around her.
A few seconds pass and then she sits up. “Sorry,” she says. There is movement and then a hand is on my face and suddenly her lips are against mine. I instantly respond, bringing my hands up to her shoulders, and then her face and neck. She climbs on me, straddles me, presses herself down against my hardness. She’s turning into an animal; she is an animal and if I don’t do something, so will I be.
It’s not a matter of choice; do the right thing.
My tongue plunges into her mouth as my hands go to her waist and find their way to the flesh of her back. Her skin is hot, responsive to my touch as she continues to rock against me. Tongue against tongue we dance, an aggressive dance of simulated copulation.
It’s not a matter of choice.
Two animals in the night.
Do the right thing.
NO! something in my brain screams, and my body instantly responds. I drop my hands from her back, and extract my tongue from her throat. All my muscles go slack, except one. It has a mind of its own. Aileen sits back. “Sorry,” she says again, and then backs off of me completely. The evil part of my brain moves one arm to reach for her. My hand grabs only air.
I don’t hear her go. Instead, I sense the sudden emptiness of the black night. I inhale the lingering animal essence of her, sit for a time feeling the memory of her body pressed against mine, and wonder why, when a guy does the right thing, there is such regret.
I crawl from under the tree, find the lantern and light it. I head back into the bowels of the mountain, emotionally drained, sort of proud of myself for beating the temptation, yet guilty for enjoying it; wanting it.
Chapter 55
Zach
I don’t sleep well. There are not enough bags and blankets, so I keep the fire going and lie in front of it, between the sleeping forms. I don’t worry about the cats at all anymore so I try to force the sleep. My body and mind crave it but the worry about what tomorrow will bring makes what little sleep I get short and fitful. I don’t think Becky is sleeping well either. Tanya hasn’t moved at all; the position she is in, curled on her side, must be pain free. Matt also appears to be sleeping okay.
As for me, every joint and muscle in my body hurts. Rolling around on the hard ground only aggravates it all. I sit up and stare at the fire for awhile, and then fetch the last clean towel.
“Dad?”
“Yeah.”
“What’re you doing?” she whispers.
“Going to sit in the hot water for a bit.”
In the flickering light of the lantern, her face is beautiful. That’s not to say that Becky isn’t already beautiful. There is something else. A mature beauty. A beauty like her mother. I’m seeing a woman. I’m not seeing a little girl. I should be happy that my little girl is turning—no, has turned—into a woman, but I’m not. She’s only seventeen. It shouldn’t have happened yet.
Her innocence is gone.
“May I come?”
I look at her sleeping companions. They’ll be fine without one of us here. One of us. That’s an odd thought. Of the four, Becky and I are the strength, and I’m wondering, of the two, who is the stronger.
“Sure.”
She stands and lays the blanket she was using, over her mother. I light the lantern while she grabs her towel, and then we silently walk together to the hot spring.
I light one torch and extinguish the lantern, and then turn away while she strips and gets in. She turns and I do the same. At first it seems weird to be naked in the same space and then the same body of water as my near adult daughter, but then everything about this entire situation is already weird. I relax the weird feeling away. The water feels good. In only seconds I can feel the aches and pains easing. Some of the minor cuts and scrapes on my arms burn for a few seconds, and then ease as well. I close my eyes.
“Did you find her?” Becky asks.
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
I look across at the head bobbing on top of the water. “It’s not good.” I gather my thoughts and then tell he
r everything that Aileen told me, except the part about lusting after me, and that I was the last man she had sex with. As a matter-of-fact, I leave out everything about not having and still needing a relationship. After I leave all that stuff out, all I tell her is that Victor’s killers will be here in the morning, with dogs, and we have no way of escaping.
“What about the cats? Can’t Sam sick the cats on them?”
“She doesn’t think they’ll have a chance against men with dogs and guns.”
“But they already got two of them.”
“They were surprised and by themselves. Now they know what they’re up against.”
She thinks about that a minute and then says, “But do they really know?”
“What do you mean, do they know?”
“When the cats killed those two guys, it was in the woods somewhere, and the cats might have carried them off. All Victor knows is that they disappeared. He probably thinks they followed us and we killed them somewhere in the woods.”
“The dogs will find the evidence, probably already have.”
“Maybe.”
I pull myself from the water far enough to lay my head back. In the flickering light on the ceiling I reflect on the amazing power of nature to create all this.
“But the dogs can only point and bark. Victor has to interpret what they’re pointing to and barking about. If they find their remains he may think we killed them and left them and then some wild animal dragged them off. What are the chances he’s going to figure out that it was sabre-toothed cats that got them?”
“I see your point, but they’re still armed, and their guard is up. When a cat shows himself, he’ll be dead in seconds.”
“If they show themselves.”
“That’s how they hunt, remember? One takes your attention while the other attacks from behind. They don’t know about guns.”
“Then Sam will have to teach them.”
I smile at her Naïveness, and reconsider my conclusion that she has completely become a woman. “How do you suppose we propose she do that in the next five or six hours?”
“Don’t know, but it’s better than sitting here waiting. My volleyball coach, Ms Tramblin, told us that the best defense is a strong offense.”
I recall the year Becky made the volleyball team. She did well and learned a lot about teamwork and all but it ended up being a very tough year for her, trying to balance that and swimming and academics. Ms Tramblin was a damned good coach.
“When are they the weakest?” she adds.
“Right now, of course, while they’re sleeping, but . . .”
“Then we should be attacking them, right now.”
“What do you mean, we? This is all great in theory, but we have no weapons, nothing at all except Sam’s cats and we have no control over them. It’d be suicide.”
“She’s right.” We both turn to look into the darkness, beyond the torch. I see nothing at first. Then there’s a movement, a slight reflection, and Aileen steps into edge of the light. She continues toward us until she is standing at the water’s edge. She sits. “We need to be offensive if we have any chance. That’s what I planned on doing but I wanted you guys out of the way first so that I only had to worry about myself.”
“What can we possibly do?” I ask, “and when did you come in here?”
“I came in while you were sleeping. You wouldn’t have heard me anyway. As far as what we can do, get out and get dressed. Wake up the other two. I’ll be back in ten minutes, and we’ll huddle. Maybe, this time, Tanya won’t try and knock my head off.”
And then, as suddenly as she showed, she is gone.
“I’m getting out,” Becky says at the same time she turns around and stands.
Just before I get my face turned away, and my eyes close, I get a glimpse of Tanya twenty years ago. “Couldn’t you have at least given me a little more warning?”
“A minor thing to worry about, Dad, when we’re literally planning on how to stay alive.” Like her mother, she has the thread of an idea, and she’s going to run with it, even if it means going to the end of the spool. “Are you getting out or what?”
“All right!” I rush out and climb into my pants without drying first. By the time I get sat down and start pulling on my socks, she is completely dressed.
“Hurry up!” She literally runs out.
Reba
It’s all coming to me now. The ideas are flying through my head on how we can attack and subdue them. I realize that some of my ideas are dumb, but that is part of brainstorming. That’s what we need to be doing. The five of us together need to brainstorm, throw out ideas until something starts forming. That’s how problems are solved all the time. Government and big corporations bring together their best minds for brainstorming sessions. I learned that in political science. That’s what Sam is planning. She’s thinking of it as a huddle, but it has to be a lot bigger than that. This is the entire game. Strategy brainstorming.
Dad’s taking way too long. I wake Matt first, tell him we need him. He looks confused, or half asleep. “We need coffee, Matt. Dig around and find it. I remember seeing it and a coffee pot in one of the bags.”
“O . . . K,” he says.
“If you don’t know how to make it, I’ll help you.”
“I know how,” he says slowly.
“Do it now!” I go to Mom and run my fingers through her hair. I think about how many times she has said to me, Don’t wake me unless it’s a matter of life or death. “Mom,” I say softly. Not even a muscle twitches. “Mom,” I say again. Dad arrives. I pull the blankets back and call Mom’s name again, a little louder.
“No,” she says.
“Yes. You have to wake up.”
“No!”
“Yes! Open your eyes. You have to wake up.”
“You’re grounded.”
“I’m already grounded.”
“Shit!” She moves a hand. “Are we still in that cave?”
“Unfortunately.”
“I don’t think I can move.”
“That’s okay. We just need your mind.”
“You want me for my mind, not my body?”
“Yeah,” I say and we both laugh.
She opens her eyes and becomes serious. “Why did you attack me?”
“Because you would have killed Sam.”
“You had a vision of that?”
“Yes.”
She looks at me for a long time. “I guess I should say thank you.” Her words are still slow and slurry, her alertness still tied up somewhere in her sleep centers.
“Not necessary.”
“Yes, it is. So, what’s going on now that I have to be so rudely awakened?”
I tell her what Dad told me that Sam told him. I end with our having only a few hours past daylight, at best. “We have to join forces and plan an attack,” I add.
She grunts and eases herself onto her back, bringing her knees up so that her feet are flat on the ground. I help adjust the blankets. “That actually doesn’t feel too bad,” she says, and then, “Whose idea is this?”
“Mine.”
“Yours?” She runs her tongue along her lips. “I need some water.” I get her a bottle. She drinks. “What did she say about your idea?”
“She agreed.”
“Humph! Of course she’d agree. It’s what’s in her best interest. We were a burden on her before. Now, suddenly, we are assets.”
“As long as you don’t try to kill her again.”
“Sure. Why not? Maybe later. First things first, and all that.”
Dad comes over and squats down. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m not going anywhere soon, if that’s what you’re asking. But you guys are.”
“What do you mean?” Dad says, but I know exactly what she means.
“Take that ATV and get Reba out of here.”
“No, Mom! I won’t go.”
“You have to and so does Matt.”
“I agree,” Dad says, “
but only Becky and Matt.”
“No!” Mom says. “You, too!”
Dad is shaking his head. “The Rhino is built to carry two. The third person will slow them down and they need to move fast. It is only logical that they be the ones to go.”
They look at each other and act like I’m not there, like I can’t read their minds. Dad’s thinking that Christi will need me, and that Matt’s mom will need him. Mom’s thinking basically the same thing and is pleased that Dad will stay and die with her, though she hates it.
I jump to my feet. “No! It’s not fair!”
“Nothing’s fair,” Mom says. “It’s just the way it has to be.”
“But together we can beat them. I can see it happening. Maybe it’s another of my abilities; I’m seeing the future.” She rolls her eyes at me. God, I hate that. “I’m not going to leave to let you get killed. Christi and I’ll be orphans. I don’t want to lose my parents.”
Mom stops her eye-rolling and closes them. I look at Dad. I plead. “Please don’t give up. If you send Matt and me away, it’s the same as sealing your death, and it may do nothing for us. They’ll still come after us because they have to get all the witnesses. This is what they’d want. Split us up and then pick us off.”
“You can’t make us go.” We all look at Matt. He has an angry set to his jaw. “I’m not a child and you all have been treating me like a child.”
I want to say that that’s because he’s been acting like a child, but I’d sound like my mother.
“You whisper around me and look at me like I don’t know what’s going on. I always know what’s going on. Sometimes I just don’t want to deal with it. They killed my dad. I know that. I know that my mom is probably going crazy right now, and I wish I could be there with her, but if I turn and run from them now, I’d have to live with that. It’s not what my dad would have done, and it’s not what he would expect me to do. Yes I’m scared of things. I’m scared of water. I’m scared of the dark, and small, tight places. I’ve had those fears as long as I can remember and have managed so far to deal with them, especially in the last twenty-four hours, even saving your asses once while battling my fear of water.”
Sabre-Toothed Cat Trilogy Page 73