“It’s one of those prairie women kidnapped by hunky Indian brave novels. They have tons of hot injun sex and fall madly in love.”
She gestured to the thing she held. “I don't even know what the hell this is yet. I bought it off the Web to read on the plane. I didn't, so I'm reading it now.”
“So, who do you picture as the Indian?”
She gazed hard at him again. “I've barely made it past the words ‘Chapter One,’ thanks, in part, to this inquisition. What's more, I never picture anyone as anything.”
“It’s an erotic romance?”
“It‘s none of your business, is what it is.”
He winked at her. “Nothing to be ashamed about. I don’t mind that you fantasize about me. I think it’s hot.”
Her eyebrows almost collided. “Yancey, your ego is just too adorable. I'm not fantasizing about anyone. I'm reading.”
“Then how come you’re blushing?” he asked, winking.
“Because you're embarrassing me with --”
The jeep swerved hard, sheering left then right again. Elfie slammed against the bulkhead. She hung half off the seat, the bench seat yanked forward.
“What the fuck --” Oliver said, his foot flooring the brakes until the jeep slid to a stop.
Yancey pulled himself up. “What happened?”
Oliver shook his head while staring at the road. He yanked open the door. “I swear to God I just saw a little kid run across the road.”
“Out here?” Yancey asked, but looked back at Elfie who was still picking herself up off the floor. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” she said, brushing herself off. “I think.”
Before she could ask after them, they had already left the jeep to investigate. She followed them out and rounded the jeep's front bumper to find the men studying the distance.
“I swear it looked like a little kid,” Oliver said, confusion swarming in his voice, “like a toddler. Two, maybe three years old.”
Yancey turned around to survey the whole area. “Sure it wasn’t a coyote or a dog or something?”
“Yes!” Oliver shot back. “Those have four legs, this had two. It was a kid. A little kid. It ran right through our path.”
Elfie drew up beside Oliver, who was staring at the grassy emptiness that might have been the path the toddler had taken into the brush.
“Maybe it was a child from the campgrounds around here?” Elfie said, looking all around her. “We should search. A child that young could be killed by predators.”
“A child that young wouldn’t be able to run too far. He’d be easy to see,” Oliver said, pointing. “I think, if it was a kid, it would be right here. There are flat grasses in every direction.”
“Maybe a reflection off somewhere?” Yancey asked. “Or a visual hallucination? We’ve been driving a long time.”
Oliver shook his head and shrugged. “Maybe. I was sure we’d find kids playing tricks on us or something. But maybe it was a hallucination. I‘m dead tired from driving.”
“In that case, we’d better make an early day of it.” Yancey said, “We’re not far from Old Peso Rock. That’d be a good place to camp. It would also be a great time for me to take over the wheel.”
Oliver managed a laugh. “No, thanks, Chief Leadfoot. I’d rather survive.”
Yancey smirked back at him. “Old Peso Rock is just above Coyote Crossing. Back in high school, we used to ride our mountain bikes up there, remember?”
Oliver appeared to pale a little. “You mean that steep, jagged trail?”
“Yeah, that steep, jagged trail. Like all the other steep, ragged trails around here. You’ll want me to drive.”
Oliver nodded. “I want you to drive.”
“That’s what I thought.”
****
The jeep climbed quickly and nimbly up Old Peso Rock Trail, a rugged shelf about a third of the way up to Vista Point. The jeep had breached the edge of the road one too many times for Elfie’s taste.
“Well, that was fun,” Elfie said, unclenching her fists and exhaling as the jeep finally wheezed its way to the top.
“Why don’t we try for something a little less steep next time?” Oliver asked, putting the jeep in park. “Like 22nd Street in San Francisco?”
Yancey cracked a grin. “Aren’t you glad I drove? And to pay me back, you can heat up dinner. I brought MREs.”
“The hell with that,” Elfie said. “I’m starved, so I’m cooking.”
“Elfie, far be it for me to point this out,” Yancey said, grinning over at her, “but that’s a little sexist. Do you think you should cook because you're a girl?”
“No,” she said. “I’m going to heat them up because I'm the only one who won't burn the crap out of them. Capisce?”
****
The men spent dinner eating and talking in low voices. Elfie nibbled away at hers while she sat in the jeep. She watched the men from a distance as they stayed slack-seated in their squat camp chairs. The men's voices traded soft and low, their hands now openly clinging together.
After finishing dinner, the backseat easily collapsed into a bunk. She had pulled the bagged blanket and pillow out from under the seat. She drew the blanket over her, perched her head atop the pillow, and started trying to read again from her e-novel.
At that point, the guys also dragged themselves into the jeep.
Oliver collapsed the front bench into a bunk as Yancey smiled knowingly over at Elfie. She proceeded to ignore his stare as the man perched himself across Oliver's knees. Out of her peripheral vision, she could see Yancey looking hungrily at Oliver and Oliver lifting an eyebrow in reply.
His eyes still on Elfie, Yancey reached back to pop open the closure on Oliver's jeans. Then he lowered his face to Oliver's crotch and pulled out his already rigid cock. He engulfed it with his mouth, sucking along its staff like something delicious. Yancey's tongue whipped out to slither across the glans.
Oliver arched back against the jeep's wall, grasping at the front seat as if enduring a wave of pleasure.
Yancey deep-throated him, sucking voraciously in and out until Oliver's groans sounded louder to Elfie than her own heartbeat.
"Shit," she said harshly, trying to control her own breathing, as she set her book aside. She hunkered down inside her blanket and fought to ignore them.
But, a sputtering rage of sound swept the night air, beginning far and approaching fast.
Yancey groaned in protest as he released Oliver’s cock. Oliver zipped himself back securely as both men climbed out of the cab to investigate the clamor.
Elfie crawled forward to watch Yancey and Oliver as they climbed outside, Oliver hanging back aways. They watched a man with long black hair ride his dirt bike to the edge of the rock face where they had camped. The man on the bike slowed down to stare over at them, as if trying to discern who they were. Finally, he dismounted and walked toward them.
“Yancey?” the new man asked.
“Yeah, it's me. What’s up, Severin?”
The other man waved an arm at the sky. “There's a pack of wild dogs roving. Be sure to stay near the campsite unless you're in the jeep.”
“That's our plan,” Yancey said.
Elfie now stood outside the jeep, listening to the exchange. Severin looked toward her, and then walked in that direction. His large brown eyes seemed unspeakably sad yet, he smiled a little.
“You’re Yancey’s friend. I’ve seen you around. You especially have to be very careful. Pretty young girls up here on the Unit can go missing.”
Elfie smiled nervously in return. “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”
Severin considered her sadly another moment. “Nice seeing you,” he said quickly and returned to his bike. He glanced one more time toward Yancey. “Amba, cous.”
“Amba. Pilamaya,” Yancey replied.
Elfie nodded toward the rapidly growing distant figure now kicking up clouds in the dirt. “Who was he?”
“Severin,” Yancey said. “He r
ides all night making sure the populated areas of the unit are secure. Nice guy with a superhero complex.”
“Gee, I don't know anyone like that,” Elfie replied.
Yancey tossed her a smirk. “I brought you a beer, smartass,” he said, offering her a bottle.
She accepted it from him while crawling back inside the jeep. “Now you have my full attention.”
“Good, then you won't need this thing,” he said, gently pulling the e-reader out of her grasp as he moved across the jeep to sit beside her.
Elfie flicked him a look of mild annoyance as she dragged the e-reader out of his hands. “Yes, I will.” She laid it aside and opened her beer.
“So, how's the Captive Bride coming along?”
“Not surprisingly, I'm about two paragraphs past the words Chapter One.”
“A lot of those white women weren't captive brides, you know,” he said. “I mean, they were captured but most stayed for their own reasons. Some women rescued by the whites went back to their Indian husbands.”
“I know that's a tale one hears,” she said, sipping more beer.
“You really can't blame the women, though. Married to all those starchy white military types, prairie settlers, good puritans who wouldn't know their dick from a candlestick. At least not when it came to pleasuring their women.”
She looked at him closely but then looked away. “That's sort of a stereotype, don't you think?”
“Not if it's true,” he said, softly. “Just think of it. Prim and proper little maiden. Never had an orgasm in her life. You know how it was back then.”
“More stereotypes,” she replied, swigging from the bottle.
“And she's in bed, and there stands this big, hot Indian guy. Warrior, a red man, forbidden, with a big hard cock. And he knows just what to do with it. He's got no fucking inhibitions. Can you imagine what that must have been like for those women?”
“Stop it,” Elfie said.
“Why?” Yancey asked. “Because it's making you hot?”
“No, because it’s embarrassing,” she said tightly.
“Then why are you trembling?” he asked with a knowing grin.
“I am not trembling,” she said.
“You're trembling,” Yancey said, leaning toward her to peel the beer bottle out of her hand, and then combing his fingers gently into her hair. “Now you're going to tremble even more.”
Yancey captured her mouth under his. She had no idea where this fire had flashed from. A reaction to his words…the last year…a little of the beer…and a lot of something she hadn't wanted to accept. She found herself kissing him back with abandon, twining her tongue around his. He groaned his approval and then pressed her back against the bunk Elfie had chosen for her own. He covered her with his body, moving his hips against her for emphasis.
The sound of the jeep opening cracked across their intense quiet. Oliver climbed in.
Elfie shook Yancey off of her by crawling away to the bunk the men had chosen.
“Oliver!” she gasped, chasing after a breath. “I'm so sorry. I don't know what – ”
“Don't quit making out because of me,” Oliver said in a breathy voice, his eyes shining with heat. “I came in here to watch.”
“I would never do that to you,” Elfie said to Oliver.
“Sure you would,” Yancey said, recovering from the kiss. “You’d do it to him right after you did it to me. So let's get back to you and me.”
“Instead of it being just Yancey and me, it can be all three of us,” Oliver said. “It's the ideal solution.”
Elfie reached for her beer again, for want of something else to say or do. She gulped some, but the beer nearly went flat in her mouth before she grasped the meaning of his words. “Oh, my God,” she said finally. “You can't mean…I mean, you don't mean what I think you mean by that –”
“Yes, we do,” Yancey said, drawing a deep breath as if to steady himself against frustration. “Let's get real here. The three of us have always had feelings for each other. We've loved and, yes, fantasized about each other. That kiss we shared a minute ago should prove that to you. After you saw Oliver and me together, you were jealous. And that's why you took off to New Orleans. ”
“Oh, now your ego has really taken titanic proportions, Yancey –” she said.
“Deny it all you want, but it's true,” Yancey said.
Elfie shook her head. “No, it's not true. I will not be a pathetic third wheel in some pity sex arrangement to appease me.”
“That's not what I mean and you know it,” Yancey said. “I mean that we don’t want any man closer to you than we are. We never have. That should be obvious.”
She rubbed at her more-than-weary eyes. “I'm sorry. It's not possible.”
“Everything is theoretically impossible, until it is done,” Oliver's voice piped up as he smoothed the blond stray hair out of his eyes.
“Robert Heinlein had more patience than I do,” she said. “I have trouble maintaining one relationship at a time.”
“You don't have relationships,” Yancey snapped. “You have serial one-night-stands. Your longest lasting relationships should also be fucking obvious.”
“You are talking to me about temporary relationships?” she yelled back.
“Oliver and I changed our ways. We figured things out. Time for you to get on board,” he said, grasping her arm insistently and pulling her close again. “You know why you’re scared?”
“No, I don’t; care to enlighten me?”
“Because,” Yancey said, “the idea of making love to us scares the shit out of you. The idea would be hotter than fuck. It would also be addictive. It would be forever. And it’d be true love. The very idea of that terrifies you.”
She jerked her arm free. “Regardless, I said no,” she said, reaching for the jeep's door to push it open. “I have to take a walk. I'll be back.”
Yancey thrust an arm in her way. “Are you kidding? You're not going out there.”
“I'm afraid I have to,” she said. “I require the use of that luxurious open pit toilet provided by our benevolent Parks Department.”
He moved his arm down. “Okay, but you're not going alone. You heard Severin. There's a pack of wild dogs roving.”
“Trust me, if I see a pack of wild dogs, I will scream. It's only sixty feet or so. I appreciate the concern, but I can do this on my own.”
“What don’t you want to do on your own?” Yancey shot back.
Stopping a moment, she shook off the comment without a reply.
She stepped down into the blustery night and slammed the door behind her. The outside wind struck her with a cold, bracing shock to her system. Something to throw water on her inner fire.
She had come so close to saying yes. So close to getting into something she knew she could never, ever end. So close that she could never tell them how close.
She walked toward the rustic hut in the near distance.
The night around wore a haunting glow. It lent luster to its dust devils and ghostly tumbleweeds and even to the infinity of stars. Lightning flashed through the sky, to highlight the land around her, but there was no rain. She looked up and down the swag of the valley. The valley through the gorge from Old Peso to the distant peaks. She thought the peaks might be the Angel Caves.
There appeared another, nearer mountain. She saw on its rise what she thought at first to be lights from some campsite – after a moment, the lights appeared life-sized. A string of them surfaced suddenly from the dark, all glowing like marble angels in a moonlit graveyard.
From a distance in another direction, she heard a low burbling sound, similar to a baby's babble. It sounded the same as the noise they had heard earlier in Duryea’s storage room.
She turned in that direction, only to see a two-foot tall something toddling toward her. An animal? A small person?
“Hi?” she said, squinting in confusion.
Its eyes gleamed with a spectral blue and pearly baby fangs thrust over its
thin black lips. It hissed, like a hungry animal about to pounce.
She stood, ready to run, when a lowing sound, an animal distress call, shot up out of the distance. The hissing figure whirled around and ran in the direction of the distress call.
Elfie damned near ran back to the jeep.
Had to be the beer. Had to be. Then, her mind started busily transforming what she had seen into the face of a dog. Yes, it had to be a dog…like that Severin guy had said, a wild dog.
By the time she crawled back into the jeep, she almost believed the dog story.
“You okay?” Oliver asked, as the two men sat up on the bunk they were sprawled across.
“Fine,” she said quickly. “I saw a dog. Maybe a wild dog, like your friend said.” She surrendered herself onto her own bunk, with her pillow, blanket and personal bag. “I got back here fast.”
Yancey looked to Oliver. “I should go check it out.”
“No, it’s okay,” Elfie said quickly, pulling her blanket to her chin. “I think he ran away. He's gone now. Let's just go to sleep.”
Yancey stared at her for a long moment. “Our earlier conversation isn't over.”
“Whatever you say,” she said, closing her eyes. “Please. Just let me sleep now. We can sort everything out after this is all over.”
Yancey rolled back onto their bunk, as if giving ground to her request.
As she tried to fall asleep, she made herself the following promises: she was not in love with Yancey and Oliver, and what she had seen was a dog. A hissing dog. A weird, strange, hissing dog. That was all.
Soon she fell into the dreamless sleep of denial.
Chapter Three
Conversation from the night before echoed in her head in words and whispers – “Everything is theoretically impossible, until it is done” - “Robert Heinlein had more patience than I do.”
They echoed until the words joined a much older carom of sound. The images flickering past were from junior high. Chess Club. The evening before their match against Wade Middle School's killer chess squad. Oliver had insisted they could win.
Jumlin's Spawn Page 4
