“It must be something your body needs,” Kelly surmised. “I guess coconut milk just isn’t cutting the mustard. As for me, the first thing I want to eat when we get back is a BLT with mounds of mayonnaise.”
Zach shook his head. "Give me a nice, juicy sirloin steak, and my morning coffee, and I’d be in heaven.”
“Lasagna,” Gavin put in. “With garlic bread.”
“Chocolate,” Alita contributed wistfully. “A whole meal of nothing but brownies, chocolate mousse, mocha mint cake, and fudge—with about a gallon of hot cocoa and marshmallows.”
Earl had his own choice. “Venison roast with carrots, taters, and gravy. And buttermilk biscuits.”
Other than daydreaming about foods they yearned for, there were the conveniences they missed. At the top of Blair’s list was her microwave.
“Air conditioning,” Kelly countered. “Just a decent electric fan would be bliss.”
“A chain saw,” Gavin proposed. “The better to cut the poles for the raft. Or, if I’m really gonna fantasize here, a yacht would be nice, complete with crew and a couple of well-built babes.”
“Any kind of car or truck, even an old beater,” Earl said.
Zach agreed, with provisions. “My BMW. That, and a kingsize bed with big fluffy pillows, soft cotton sheets, and a comfortable mattress.”
“Clean, decent clothes,” Alita added, eyeing her soiled, mis-matched ensemble with disgust. “And somewhere to actually wear them would be great! A restaurant, a show, a party, even a tacky amusement park. I’m too desperate to be picky. I just want to be able to go anywhere other than here. Someplace without sand.”
Laundering their clothing, sans soap, was a feat in itself—primarily because they either had to put it back on wet and let it dry on their bodies, or find among their limited attire something else to wear in the interim. Sydney had no difficulty. She could dash around in her panties while her abbreviated playsuit was drying, or vice-versa. As for the adults, being far less modest than the women, the men did likewise. It didn’t seem to bother them one whit to prance around in their skivvies. In truth, they tended to preen, somewhat akin to male models.
“Born exhibitionists!” Kelly declared. “Not a bashful bone in their bodies.”
“Well, I wish they would cover up more,” Blair complained. “I’m pregnant, not dead, and my hormones are standing on end here! No matter how big I am by the time I get home, Anton is going to be in for the surprise of his married life.”
The women elected to be more discreet, and inventive.
Blanket togas came into vogue. As did donning a man’s jacket, or Gavin’s uniform shirt or T-shirt, which he gallantly lent them. Kelly’s decorative silk scarf often served as a skirt, or sometimes as a bandeau top, whichever was most needed at the time.
“You know, you could save yourselves a lot of trouble if you’d just whip up a couple of grass skirts,” Zach told them with a naughty grin. “Go native.”
“In a brisk breeze,” Gavin added enthusiastically.
“Go away.”
“Dream on.”
“Amuse yourselves elsewhere,” Blair suggested.
“I think that’s their problem,” Kelly commented with wry wit. “They’ve been playing with themselves too much. I’ve heard that causes a number of medical and physical repercussions.”
“Hey, girl! That’s hitting below the belt!” This from a disgruntled red-faced Gavin, his exclamation eliciting chuckles all around.
“Strictly rumor,” Zach rebutted smoothly. “And not applicable in my case, thanks in large part to Kelly.”
Now it was Kelly’s turn to blush. “Between you, Sydney, and that blabber-mouthed parrot, I have no secrets anymore!”
Sydney was, indeed, a gabberbox. Whatever entered her ears, exited her mouth. Daily, her vocabulary and pronunciation were improving. Unfortunately, she was also picking up a number of nasty words in the process. As was her feathered friend, Fricassee, so named because that’s how Kelly envisioned the pesky bird on his worst days—in a stewpot!
“For two cents, I’d wring his scrawny neck,” she claimed.
“First you have to catch him,” Blair reminded her.
“I think he’s cute,” Alita said.
Kelly shot her an annoyed look. “If it were you he was repeating all the time, you wouldn’t.”
Alita laughed. “Ooh, Baby! Oh, Zach! Go, baby, go!” she mimicked tauntingly.
From above, Fricassee sprang into action. “Ooh, baby! Move that thing! Yeah!”
“Now, that was Zach, not me,” Kelly refuted peevishly.
“Likely story.”
“No, I believe her,” Blair stated. “I’ve heard that bird repeat other words I know didn’t come from Kelly’s lips. B-O-O-B-S for instance.” She spelled the word, aware that Sydney was seated nearby, her little ears perked.
“Gee, thanks,” Kelly grumbled. “Now, if you really want to help, give me a good recipe for white sauce, one that will enhance Fricassee’s flavor.”
Gavin considered his life one long series of missed opportunities. He’d missed entering kindergarten with his best friends and had spent his school years a grade behind them, simply because his birthday was six measly days beyond the deadline. In high school, his girlfriend had gone to the junior prom with another guy, because Gavin came down with, of all things, the chicken pox two days before the big event. Once, he’d even lost a mega-buck betting pool on a super bowl game by a single point. His father ’s life insurance policy, which would have gone a long way toward easing the family’s financial distress, expired for lack of payment a month before he had died. Gavin had even been passed up for a football scholarship, only to have the college change its mind three weeks after he’d already enlisted in the army.
It was the story of his life. He always seemed to be a day late or a dollar short in the good-luck department. Like his R&R to Australia, for instance, which had ended with the plane crash and almost killed him. Now he was AWOL, or maybe just missing-out-of-action, if there was such a thing. Whichever, knowing the army and the screwed-up way they handled matters, they would probably make him serve extra time, to make up for what he’d lost, before giving him his discharge.
To beat all, he was stranded here in the prime of his sexual life, with three attractive women, and was living the life of a monk—except he doubted a monk would be half as frustrated. Once again, life had dealt him a lousy hand, when it could have been a winner. Blair was pregnant, and married, not that that would have deterred Gavin if she’d indicated an interest in him. But she hadn’t given any sign of wanting him as anything but a friend, and Gavin wasn’t the type to use force. He hadn’t survived growing up in Chicago—avoiding gangs, drugs, and a rap sheet—-just to screw up now. As for Kelly, Zach had made it clear that she was exclusively his, and Gavin couldn’t blame him. With those emerald eyes and long braid, she was a walking, talking Barbie doll!
Which left Alita, Super-Star and Queen Bitch. Yet, even knowing he didn’t stand a snowball’s chance with her— or maybe because she was so unattainable—Gavin had developed a kingsize crush on her. God, that woman was beautiful! And built—with a set of maracas sure to set any guy between the ages of six and ninety-six to drooling. When she’d come on to Earl the way she had, though it had all been an act, Gavin had been so jealous he could scarcely see straight.
Now, for some reason, probably just to drive Earl nuts, Alita had suddenly started flirting with Gavin. She had him hornier than a three-peckered billy goat. Worse, she knew it. He could see the amusement lurking in her big, dark eyes every time she batted those long lashes at him. Laughing eyes. Teasing eyes. As that old song had phrased it, Spanish eyes, that had him thoroughly entranced. Moreover, Gavin was sure she was just playing with him, luring him on with no intention of putting out, the way she’d done with Earl, which truly ticked him off. This game of hers, whatever it was, was fast driving him up the proverbial wall.
That wall came tumbling down on him muc
h sooner than Gavin would ever have suspected. He and Zach had finished their day’s work on the raft and had stopped by the pond to clean up prior to going back to camp. Gavin had put in a grueling day, and his muscles were aching worse than they had that first week of basic training.
“I’m going to soak a while,” he told Zach. “Maybe that will work out a few of the kinks.”
Zach, ready to head back, sluiced the excess water off his chest with his hands. “In that case, I’ll leave the string stretched across the path.”
They’d rigged a signal of sorts, to warn each other when the pool was in use—-just a vine with a bright piece of cloth tied to it, strung between two trees along the path to the water hole. Crude as it was, it served the purpose and kept the men from intruding on the women when they were bathing, and vice-versa.
Zach left, and Gavin was soon blissfully relaxed, his eyes closed as he lounged, naked and half-afloat, with his neck propped on the narrow ledge encircling the pool. He was contemplating how remarkable and fortunate it was that the lava forming the mini-lagoon had cooled to form such a smooth surface here. It was almost like lying in one of those pre-poured hot tubs, one built to accommodate several people comfortably, with plenty of room to stretch out. Which led him to fantasizing about what fun it would be to frolic in the pool with Alita. He could picture her naked, her creamy toffee-tan skin glistening, her hair streaming across her shoulders in wet waves. Just imagining her that way gave him an erection that made him grit his teeth.
“My, my! Something has you immensely aroused. I hope it’s me.”
Alita’s lilting voice cut unexpectedly into Gavin’s musings of her. With a startled jerk, he lost his grip on the ledge, and slid beneath the surface. He came up choking, to find her at the edge of the pool, laughing at him. “Dammit, Alita!”
Whatever else he might have added was swept from his brain as she calmly and deliberately proceeded to undress. While he sat there, tongue-tied and bug-eyed, she stripped for him—slowly, tauntingly, with a smile to rival Mona Lisa’s. Then, with the grace of a doe, she stepped into the pool and sank onto her haunches beside him. Her hand dipped into the clear water to stroke his thigh.
“You know, I always envied the other kids, the ones with more money and nice families,” she told him, her ebony eyes sparkling above that tantalizing smile. “They got to do all the fun things, especially on the holidays. Do you know that I have never once bobbed for apples?”
“That… that’s a darn shame!” he croaked out.
“I agree,” she said with a nod. “Perhaps you can show me how it is done.”
Gavin nearly swallowed his tongue. “Uh… what do you plan to use for apples?”
She cupped his genitals, sending goosebumps chasing across his flesh. “These would do nicely, don’t you think?”
Gavin could feel beads of sweat popping out on his forehead. “I suppose, as long as you don’t intend to take a bite out of them.”
She gave him a wounded look. “You don’t trust me?”
“About as much as I’d trust a strange rottweiler,” he muttered.
“Oh, but they can be very friendly animals, once they get to know you,” she assured him. Her fingers curled more firmly around him. “Think of me as one of the nice ones, the kind that love to lick you all over.” She gave a little shimmy that set her breasts quivering and the water rippling around them. “Pet me. Stroke me. Teach me some new tricks, Gavin.”
“Like how to retrieve apples and big sticks?”
“Si.” She gave her head a playful toss. “And perhaps, if you are a very good teacher, I will even sit up and beg for you.”
“Dear Lord!” he murmured, reaching for her with eager hands. “If I’m dreaming, please don’t wake me until after the good stuff.”
For once, Gavin lucked out—big time.
Chapter 19
Despite his new and exciting liaison with Alita, Gavin was determined to finish the raft and still insisted that he would leave on it when it was done. His work was going more slowly, though, his mind and body often being otherwise engaged.
Thus, the small group of survivors had been marooned on the island for three weeks by the time Gavin finally announced that his tiny craft was ready and he would be sailing soon. As luck would have it, however, now that the raft was complete, the weather was taking a turn for the worse. His long-planned launch would have to wait until conditions improved.
If Gavin was disgruntled, Zach was worried. The usually gentle ocean breeze was stiffening daily, almost hourly, strengthening into a gale. The tides were running higher than normal, the waves pounding ashore with growing force. Dark clouds built on the eastern horizon and scuttled across the sky in ever-building masses—sometimes dropping significant rain, but often traveling too fast for the precipitation to amount to much. Each day, the weather deteriorated more.
“I don’t like the feel of this,” Zach admitted to the others. “Even the birds are acting weird, as if they know something is going to happen. I’ve heard that animals are sensitive to changes in the atmosphere, the barometric pressure, and such.”
“Fish, too,” Earl put in from his post. “A storm can really mess up a fella’s fishing. ’Course, sometimes they bite real good just beforehand, like they know they ain’t gonna feed for a while with the water all stirred up.”
“I’ve read that cattle and sheep have behaved oddly just prior to an earthquake. Supposedly, they can feel those slight initial tremors much sooner than humans can,” Blair related.
Gavin huffed an exasperated breath. “Darn! If I’d just finished the raft a couple of days ago!”
“Right!” Alita scoffed. “And then where would you be?” She pointed toward the churning sea. “Out there bouncing around like live shark bait, that’s where.”
Kelly agreed. “She’s right. You wouldn’t want to be out there on that raft now. I’ll bet even seasoned sailors, on those huge transport ships, will be seasick before this is done.”
“I just wish we knew how bad it’s going to get,” Zach said. “It would be nice to know what to expect, what to prepare for.”
“Yeah, where’s a reliable meteorologist when you really need him?” Kelly mocked.
“Back on cable TV, with the Weather Channel and CNN,” Alita informed her wryly. “Probably bringing us an update as we speak.”
Zach had to laugh. “No doubt, and that’s another thing I’ve always thought so ludicrous. Have you ever noticed how they’ll announce on television that a certain area is without power, then tell those affected not to phone in because the electric company is aware of the problem and attempting to fix it as soon as possible. Pray tell me how those people are supposed to be watching that broadcast if their power is out?”
“Well, we don’t have any electricity to start with, so I guess we’re just going to have to prepare for the worst and hope for the best,” Kelly suggested. “But, like you, I wish we had some way to determine how strong this storm may be.”
Zach nodded. “Are we talking mediocre, a series of relatively harmless rainstorms, or a major typhoon? Are we directly in its path, or are we just going to catch the edge? Will there be a resultant storm surge, possibly even a tsunami? As it is, we don’t know whether to dig a hole, or climb to higher ground—or both. And to procrastinate too long could prove disastrous.”
They spent a miserable night huddled beneath the banyan tree, which was now offering very little shelter. At dawn, which amounted to no more than a slight lightening of the darkness, Zach decided they must act immediately. Once again, they packed up their meager belongings, but this time they bundled up a couple of baskets full of fruit as well.
“We’ll stop by the water hole and fill up the coffee pot,” Zach told them. “What I wouldn’t give for a thermos bottle about now!”
“Where to after the pool?” Kelly asked, ducking her head as several figs blew loose from the branches overhead and pelted her.
“The cave.”
Kelly s
tared at him, aghast. “The cave? As in, the same cave with the decayed soldier? We’re going to share quarters with a corpse?”
“A skeleton,” Zach corrected succinctly,
“Semantics. It’s still gruesome, any way you cut it. I vote we find someplace else.”
“There is no place else. If this turns into a full-blown typhoon, it’s the only site likely to withstand the storm.”
“Then, historic relic or not, old ‘Harry-Kari’ has to go,” Kelly insisted with a shiver that had nothing to do with the wind-driven rain dripping down her back. “Out on his bony butt.”
In good conscience, there was nothing they could do but unchain Earl and take him along with them. Zach even relented enough to couple Earl’s hands in front of him for the short jaunt to the cave, making it easier for Earl to negotiate the rough spots along the way.
“Just don’t try anything, Roberts,” he warned, pushing him ahead of him on the trail. “I’ll have my eye on you all the while.”
“You’re worse than a damned cop,” the big man retorted sullenly. “Shit! I ain’t no better off now than if I’d gone to prison. Probably worse. At least there I wouldn’t be tied up to a danged tree day and night.”
“It’s your own fault.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
They’d hoped that once they were farther from the shore, the trees would act as a buffer from the wind and rain, but the storm was gaining momentum faster than they were. The wind swirled and gusted around them, forcing them to turn their backs to it in order to breathe, and to crab-walk sideways—while the earth beneath their feet was quickly turning into a slippery river. The rain didn’t fall, it slashed in blinding, horizontal sheets, carrying with it sand and debris. Each step was a strain, like wading through the surf, against a surging tide.
Once, Kelly lost her footing and tumbled down a slight incline, garnering several bumps and bruises. Alita, too, slipped and gashed her knee on a piece of lava rock. A particularly strong gust sent Zach stumbling into a tree trunk. Fortunately, his back and shoulders took the brunt of the blow, and Sydney, cradled against his chest, wasn’t hurt. Blair, nearly blinded by the grit aggravating her contact lenses, was reduced to hanging onto Gavin’s waistband and hoping the two of them could remain upright.
Horizons Page 20
