Behind him, the creature let out its most savage growl yet.
"No!" he cried as it leapt over him and took Alice, her screams piercing his eardrums, as did the gunshots that followed, his rage causing him to fire over and over again at the two figures until the gun was empty.
"Brian?" a voice called.
A new figure appeared, one that was naked.
Cheryl?
She reached down and pulled him free of the mud.
Together they started toward a cave, one that was somehow within steps of the mud he had been stuck in.
The light followed them.
He opened his eyes, his motel room replacing the cave, though the light that had encompassed them within it remained. It was coming from the large rectangular window, the thin shade doing little to block it out.
A quick glance toward the clock showed him that it was 1:53 a.m.
He groaned and threw a mental curse at whoever had pulled into the parking lot.
What were they doing?
Someone for him?
Cheryl?
Had the voice that had been calling his name in his nightmare been echoing in from the real world?
Annie?
Had she finally arrived?
Tossing off the bedsheets, he stepped over to the chair, grabbing his pants and a T-shirt, and then hurried over to the window to peek out through the blinds, eyes squinted against the headlights.
He couldn't see much.
Next he went to the door, fingers removing the safety bar, and opened it a crack.
No one was there.
He opened it wider and peeked out.
A figure was walking toward the office, her car parked in front of his window, engine running.
"Hey!" he called, voice a bit more aggressive than was typical for him.
The figure spun around and stared at him for a second before asking, "Brian?"
What? No. It can't be.
But it was!
"Alice?" he asked.
She came toward him, her features becoming clearer as she neared the light.
"What are you—" he started as she came up to him, her arms cutting him off as they snared him in a heavy hug, one that nearly knocked him from his feet.
"I'm so sorry," she said, voice wet with tears.
"Oh," was all he could say, his arms completing the hug by closing together upon her back.
She buried her face in his shoulder, sobbing, tears quickly soaking through his T-shirt.
Had there been any other guests at the motel, they would have been quite the spectacle, but aside from the girl who owned it, they were the only ones in the area.
"It's okay," he said after nearly a minute, hand rubbing her back.
Her sobs continued.
He went on rubbing, soothing statements leaving his lips over and over again.
Is it really okay?
His words were reactionary. No real thought went into them. She was crying, and he was consoling. It was in his nature to do so.
As far as her infidelity went, he had tried not to think about it, his mind unable to face the sadness and anger it produced. Yet now it looked like he might have to give it some thought. At roughly two in the morning.
"Let's get inside," he said, breaking the hug.
Alice wiped at her face and started to let him lead her into the room, but then stopped and said, "Wait, the car."
Brian switched on the room light as she switched off the engine and the headlights.
Alice returned to the room, pulling the door shut behind her, and walked up to him, her hands opening and closing several times in front of her.
Brian waited.
Alice didn't say anything.
She came all the way out here, he said to himself. To apologize?
Had his silence gotten the better of her?
He couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at such a possibility. She had known he had known about the affair and was so distraught by it and by his silence that she had gotten on a plane and flown out here and then rented a car, arriving at his motel around 2:00 a.m. It was like something out of a romance movie.
Plane ticket. Rental car. Gas.
His satisfaction faded.
He had already spent a small fortune coming out here to get the video, and now she had likely doubled it, if not more.
Sonofabitch!
"Are you upset?" Alice asked.
"Upset about what?"
"That I came out here?"
As horrible as the bill was going to be, he realized he wasn't. Instead, he was touched. "No," he said. "I'm not upset."
Relief spread across her face.
A second later, it faded.
"I'm sorry," she said again. "I know that doesn't make up for what I did, but all I can say is I'm—"
Brian held up a hand. "Let's not talk about that right now."
"But I think we should, because I'm really—"
"No," he said, voice firm. "I don't want to talk about it right now." He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm down. "I just can't right now, okay?"
She looked down at the floor. "Okay."
Silence arrived.
He stared at her, unsure what else to say. Or to do. Things were getting awkward. "Do you have any bags or anything?"
"No," she said, still looking at the floor. "Well, just an overnight one. It's in the car."
"Why don't you get it?"
"Okay."
She left the room and came back a second later with her bag, holding it in her hands, waiting.
He motioned for her to set it down.
She did and then simply stood there, staring at him.
He waited.
She took a step, her hesitation evident. Then another. Soon she was standing before him, her body close enough for him to feel it even though they weren't touching.
"I…" she started.
A kiss followed, her head leaning forward while her hands planted themselves on either side of him, lips meeting, tongue eventually making an appearance.
She pressed into him, her breasts firm on his chest.
He let himself fall back onto the bed, her on top of him.
She continued to kiss him while her hips rubbed back and forth against his groin, his own body responding.
It reminded him of when they had first started seeing each other, how she had taken control while the two had been on the couch watching the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie on DVD. One moment they were watching as Captain Jack Sparrow and William Turner stole a ship from the Royal Navy, the next she was tickling his side. He tickled her back. They laughed for a moment and then she gave him that look, one that he had never seen before yet understood immediately. A kiss had followed, one very similar to what they had just engaged in, and then she had used her body to push him back onto the sofa, his virgin body quivering with anticipation and desire. Or had it been trembling with fear and anxiety? He had no idea, but whichever it was, he didn't care, his mind only able to focus on what was unfolding, her hands causing his body to shiver with pleasure as they freed his manhood.
Is that how she initiated things with Jared?
His email message had mentioned how she used her lips to secure the condom over his penis, a gag echoing as she unrolled it all the way to the base and then mounted him—just as she was doing now.
"Stop," he said, voice barely audible.
She didn't stop, likely not even hearing what he had said, or thinking it was nothing more than a moan.
"Stop!" he said again, more forcefully.
Confusion appeared.
"What?" she asked, her body still on top of him, her hips rocking back and forth, his penis inside of her.
"I can't," he said and gently removed her from his body. "I'm sorry. I—" He didn't know what to say and simply stood up from the bed, fingers pulling the condom free, and headed to the bathroom, where he closed the door.
2
Alice stared at the door, her mind unable to comprehend
what had just happened, her right leg feeling moisture where it touched up against the opening between her legs, the excitement she had felt evident. And then she burst into tears, a realization that while his words had said everything was okay, his actions said otherwise and they were likely more accurate.
It's over.
No, maybe he just needs some time.
She wiped at her eyes, which didn't look away from the door.
Please open it, she silently begged.
He did—five minutes later.
She had not moved, her eyes having stayed on the door the entire time, her naked bottom half still exposed, legs crossed beneath her, while her undershirt was tight across her body.
He had been crying.
She could see it in his eyes.
She then looked at his nakedness.
He had gone into the bathroom with just a shirt on, but that was now gone.
Confusion appeared.
She shifted her gaze down to his penis, which, while no longer fully erect, was still firm.
He wants me.
He's going to take me.
And it's going to be—
"I'm sorry," he said. "We can't do this right now. I just…I need some time."
She didn't reply—couldn't reply.
Why did I think everything would be okay?
Why did I think coming out here would fix everything?
"I love you," he added. "Always have and always will."
"I love you too," she said, lip quivering.
"We will get through this."
She nodded.
"Just please realize that you really hurt me. I know I haven't been a very good husband lately, but even so, what you did…it will take me some time."
She didn't reply, guilt overwhelming her.
"And, honestly, I think you need some time to process everything too," he added.
"No, I don't need time," she said, a frantic edge to her voice. "That's why I came out here. Yesterday after you left, er, on Friday, I was a wreck. I realized right away what had happened. And it was a bit of a misunderstanding."
"Misunderstanding?" he asked.
"Yeah, I had those emails open because I was sending him a message that it was over, but I was having trouble wording it and sat on the couch to think and fell asleep."
He didn't reply.
"I guess misunderstanding is the wrong word," she admitted. "I cheated and I'm sorry. My point is, I was regretful of it even then and had already made the decision that it was over."
"But you didn't know how to tell him that?"
She shook her head.
"Why would it be hard for you to do that if it was truly over?"
She looked up at him, panic filling her. "I don't know, I think I was worried that he could react badly and do something. He isn't right in the head. That's why I…" She sighed. "This is really hard to talk about. Can I just say that I'm sorry and that I have thought things over and the only one I want is you, and I want us to be together? That's why I came out here. I felt it was the first step in a new direction for us, one that will be like old times as we investigate things together. Remember how much fun we used to have?"
He nodded and then smiled. "I miss those days."
"Me too." She wiped away more tears. "I miss them, and I miss you. We were really happy back then, remember? I want that back."
He smiled and took a seat next to her, and then twisted himself so he could put his arms around her.
She savored the comfort she felt in his arms.
Nothing else was said for quite some time, the two simply holding each other, eventually leaning back on the bed so that they were lying in each other’s arms atop the messed-up bedspread.
While in this position, she expected their nakedness to spur them back into the process of having sex, especially given the firmness of him as his groin was pressed into hers, but it didn't happen. Instead, they simply held each other, minutes ticking by, until eventually they shifted a bit so that they could get under the covers, her body twisting around so that her butt was against his groin, his body curled around hers, arms holding her, while her hands held his. It was a perfect position, one that produced a sense of togetherness that she had not felt for a long time.
3
Something jarred Cheryl in her sleep, waking her.
Confused, she reached over for the light and switched it on.
Beverly was gone.
Bathroom? she wondered.
After a few minutes of waiting, she decided to get up and check.
Beverly had left.
Why?
No answer followed.
None ever did when it came to Beverly.
In the kitchen, she grabbed a glass of water, the taste from the sexual acts she had performed on Beverly following the episode in the kitchen not one that could be savored now that the pleasure of everything had faded.
You didn't get her off.
Though Beverly had made the sounds of experiencing orgasm—several times—Cheryl knew it was bullshit.
Beverly rarely, if ever, got off when they were together.
Cheryl had broached her concern about this a few times with Beverly over the years, but she never got a genuine answer as to why this was.
Whatever the reason, it hadn't gotten in the way of their relationship.
Beverly still came over regularly and did everything she could to make Cheryl enjoy herself.
And then left.
4
Brian opened his eyes to Alice staring at him.
She smiled.
"What?" he asked, his own smile unfolding.
"Nothing. Was just watching you sleep."
"Ah, well, nothing creepy about that."
"I'm happy." She took his hand and squeezed.
"Me too," he said, squeezing it back. It was true. He was happy. Though a part of him was dismayed at how much of a pushover he was. Here she had cheated on him, fucked a man behind his back in their house, one that he had to answer phones in a call center to keep in their name, and he had simply welcomed her back into his arms because she was crying. His mother and coworkers would have a fit about this, and if she talked to her mother about it, the bitch would probably suggest his actions were because he had cheated as well.
"I'm also hungry," she said and laughed. "Missed dinner last night since I was trying to get here at somewhat of a reasonable hour and then ended up lost for nearly an hour because my phone cut out, killing my directions. Go figure." She pushed herself up into a sitting position. "Any good places to eat? I'm guessing the motel doesn't have room service."
"You guessed right," he said, sitting up as well. "I went to a place the other day called Sally's Skillet. It's the best place in town…mostly because it's the only place in town."
"Mmm…well then, I suppose we don't really have a choice."
"Thankfully, it isn't bad. Not the best place I've ever been to, but not the worst place either."
"What're we waiting for?"
"Beats me," he said and stood up, his naked body making him a bit self-conscious as he headed to his bag to get some fresh clothes.
Alice got up as well, her hands fumbling for a moment to turn her clothes right side out.
Two minutes later, they were heading to his rental car, hunger and a desire for coffee quickening their steps.
5
Quinn Parker woke up with a nasty headache, one that he combated with a Vicodin tablet and some coffee. Not long after that, he grew queasy, his mind recalling something about how he was supposed to be taking the Vicodin with food.
Too late now.
He powered through the nausea with some Sunday morning TV, the pressure and thumping within his skull fading as the painkiller kicked into gear.
Three stitches and a concussion.
It had been enough for the hospital to suggest he stay overnight.
He had declined.
Hospitals were dangerous.
One could go in with
a small cut and a concussion, and end up with chest tubes and needing a heart transplant due to some super infection that was crawling upon every surface.
No thanks.
Plus, he had wanted to keep an eye on things in town, and while he could get the same updates while resting in the hospital that he could while at home, being at home was better because he felt closer and more able to react. Take the sudden appearance of Alice Goldman, Brian Goldman's wife. He had gotten a call this morning about her having joined her husband in his investigation into this little Bigfoot fantasy everyone seemed to be involved in, and, had he wanted to, he could have gone over to the motel and talked to them. Obviously he had decided against doing that, but while at home the option was there. Had he been at the hospital, he would have had to go through the process of being discharged and then waiting for Jeanne to pick him up. A day later, he would finally be back in town, ready to look into things.
His phone rang.
He leaned over across the couch he was on and grabbed the wireless handset from its charging base, his eyes glancing at the caller ID.
"Hello?" he said, smile appearing.
"We need to talk," Beverly said back.
6
"So, tell me about your investigation," Alice said while creaming her coffee. "Did you get the video yet?"
"No, Annie never showed up, but I did manage to see Bigfoot yesterday."
"What?"
He took a sip of coffee. "It was just for a split second, and of course I didn't have my phone ready to take video, so I can't examine anything to make sure it really was Bigfoot or release it as footage of him."
"But even so, you saw something that could be him." She frowned. "Or her."
"Yeah. And get this. After I saw it, it ran into the woods toward where Chief Parker and Cheryl Gaffney were, attacked the chief, and then dragged Cheryl off into the woods."
Alice had been about to sip her coffee, but now she paused. "Seriously?"
"Yeah. The chief actually had to go to the hospital because his head was bashed in. He was lucky. A man named Marlon Gibbs was attacked and killed earlier in the day in the same area, his head completely busted in with a rock."
"And you saw this?" Alice couldn't believe it.
He nodded. "I have pictures that Cheryl took while we were there—of Marlon Gibbs's body." He paused. "I've never seen anything like it before."
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