Dangerous Ground, no. 1

by Josh Lanyon

  Somehow they made it down to the bottom without killing themselves. Taylor dropped down on all fours, gulping for air. Will walked a loose circle, giving his burning muscles a chance to recover, trying to catch his breath, listening for sounds of chase.

  Throwing a look at the face of the craggy mountainside just beginning to materialize in the dawn, he was belatedly stricken at what they had attempted. It was a good thing he hadn’t realized it before they started running.

  At muffled sounds of distress, he turned his head. Next to a small rivulet splashing down into a rocky pool, Taylor was on his knees, being quietly sick. Will didn’t blame him. That trail had to have dropped five hundred feet in less than a mile. Will thought he might have left his own stomach somewhere around the last bend.

  Kneeling, Will put a hand on his shoulder. “You okay?”

  Taylor nodded, scooped a hand in the water and splashed his face, further smearing the mud and sweat.

  Will gave him a moment, rising and scanning the mountainside for the flashlights, for motion, for anything indicating pursuit.

  Nothing.

  That didn’t mean they weren’t being followed. The tiny waterfall rushing down into the pool at the foot of the path effectively drowned out the most immediate of the night sounds.

  “We’ve got to keep moving,” he said, and Taylor nodded, got one knee under and shoved himself back to his feet.

  They staggered their way down the canyon, finally taking shelter behind a series of sandy rock formations as the blackness of night began to dull to gray. From this vantage point they’d be able to see in all directions once it turned daylight. But once it turned daylight, they needed to be moving again. Will lay on his belly, watching.

  There was nothing.

  Taylor was on his back, his head leaning against the edge of Will’s shoulder. Will listened to him struggle to catch his breath. He thought Taylor’s inhalations sounded funky: sort of squeaky…wheezy; was the injured lung holding up to the strain?

  “Okay?” he asked, undervoiced.

  Taylor nodded. Then shook his head. “Need a…minute.”

  Yeah. They both needed a minute. But Taylor sounded winded. And Will could feel him shaking with exhaustion. Not that Will wasn’t shaky himself, but he was in better shape than Taylor. He turned it over in his mind. He didn’t like being on defense, but Taylor’s fatigue made any kind of offense impossible for now.

  Assuming Orrin and Bonnie didn’t give up and go home — and he couldn’t see how they could afford to do that — they’d expect him and Taylor to continue down to safety and civilization, and they’d attempt to cut them off. That’s what he’d do in their position. Will shifted, and Taylor rolled away, swallowing hard.

  “What do you want to do?” he whispered.

  “We rest for a minute. Then we move to higher ground.”

  Taylor’s face turned toward him. “We could split up. Make it harder for them.”

  “We’re not splitting up.” Will held Taylor’s eyes with his own. “Never again.”

  Taylor laughed.

  “Something funny?”

  “The whole goddamned thing is funny.” It sounded like he had recovered his breath, anyway. Will took care of that by covering Taylor’s mouth with his own in a quick, hard kiss.

  * * * * *

  The sky was turning a peachy pink when they started up the slope, sticking to rock as much as possible in an effort to hide their tracks.

  Without his map it was hard to be sure, but Will thought they were on the west side of Elk Pass. This was confirmed when they later came upon an old, half-tumbled down mining shack.

  There had been no sign of any pursuit since they’d made their escape down the cliff the night before. Will thought they could risk going to ground for a few hours. It wasn’t like they had a choice, really. Taylor was moving on willpower alone, and he needed time to figure out how they were going to get to help before Orrin and Bonnie got to them.

  Will kicked the door, and half the wall fell in. Taylor began to laugh. And soft though it was, it echoed off the rocks and bounced around the canyon, a ghostly chuckle in the crisp, cold dawn.

  “Shhh. Shit,” Will hissed, but he started to laugh too. “Be quiet, for God’s sake.” He grabbed Taylor and pushed him through the broken door — and wall — realizing how glad he was to have an excuse to hold him.

  “Jesus, there could be snakes…spiders…” Taylor was letting Will guide him under the half-fallen logs which made a kind of lean-to. He got down on his hands and knees. “Are you sure this is safe?”

  His muffled complaint nearly started Will laughing again.

  “You mean is it up to code? Probably not.” Will shoved him, not ungently, hands lingering. “Get in there.”

  And Taylor handed him the rifle and crawled the rest of the way beneath the makeshift shelter. He drew his long legs up, and Will wriggled in beside him. The smell of damp earth and moldering wood and leather and perspiration was warm and strangely reassuring. Taylor was scrunched up against him, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip.

  “Comfortable?” he asked, and Taylor started that wheezy laughing again. “Will you shut up?” But he couldn’t get any heat into it.

  After a few moments, Taylor quieted. “I don’t see why they would come after us. It makes more sense for them to give up on the money and get out while they can.”

  Will didn’t answer.

  “Don’t you think?”

  “No,” said Will. “And neither do you.”

  Taylor sighed and shifted. They sat for a time…listening.

  Taylor’s head dropped forward, and he jerked awake. He swore quietly.

  Will whispered, “Put your head on my shoulder.”

  “I’m awake.”

  “Put your head on my shoulder. I’ll take first watch.”

  There was something wary in Taylor’s silence. At last, he adjusted position, lowering his head to Will’s shoulder. They sat there stiffly for a moment or two, but then Taylor settled more comfortably; his breath was warm against Will’s throat.

  “Hold on,” Will mumbled. He wriggled, got his arm free, and slid it around Taylor’s back, pulling him close and offering a little more support. “You can stretch out if you want to.”

  “There’s no room.”

  “Yeah, there is. Stretch out to the side of me.” Will tried to shift more, and Taylor inched down a little. A board slid from above them, clattering loudly in the crisp morning.

  They both froze. Then Will said grimly, “Careful. Don’t knock down our happy home.”

  Taylor’s laugh was a breath of sound, then he swore again, and Will guided him down the length of his own body, hands moving over Taylor’s jean-clad legs, his hips, his torso. He just managed to avoid Taylor head-butting him, and then Taylor’s hand landed on his crotch.

  Will was a little surprised at his body’s instant reaction, but that was adrenaline for you. His cock pressed uncomfortably against the canvas pants.

  “Ow,” Taylor said.

  “Whaddya mean, ‘ow’? You’re the one doing all the banging.”

  There was an astonished silence, then Taylor muttered, his knee just missing a vital part of Will’s expanding anatomy, “I’m pleading the fifth.”

  He finally got himself positioned to his satisfaction, the heat of his body pressed down the length of Will’s, his head resting once more on Will’s shoulder. He put his arm around Will’s waist, and Will put his arm around Taylor’s shoulders.

  “Comfortable?” He was grinning, although there wasn’t much to smile at.

  “Oh, yeah. You didn’t forget to put out the Do Not Disturb sign, did you?”

  “Nah. And room service at seven.”

  Taylor expelled a long breath that sounded mostly like a moan.

  Will patted him absently. Seconds later he could tell by Taylor’s breathing he was asleep.

  Chapter Eight

  He came awake to shivery darkness, and he couldn’t remember f
or a moment where he was or what had happened. But he was lying with someone — on the cold, very hard ground it seemed — and he was being undressed, warmed. Warm hands undoing his shirt, sliding inside and stroking him. Part caress, part reassurance, part…salvage effort. Comfort and joy — and he…knew those hands. Knew that touch.

  He parted his lips and to his delight, a warm mouth covered his own. And he knew that taste too.

  Taylor opened his eyes and Will was a warm bulk lying against him, Will’s hands moved over him, and Will was undressed too, heated skin, soft hair, hot mouth licking Taylor’s nipples into taut little points.

  “We’ll be warmer like this,” he whispered.

  Yes, it was definitely warmer like this. Taylor slipped his hands beneath Will’s arms for a moment, enjoying being held, treasuring the flush of heat between them, his own shivers easing in the wake of excitement and pleasant sleepy surprise. He remembered now. Remembered where they were — and why — that waking up at all was a miracle, let alone waking up in each other’s arms — which they most definitely were.

  “Morning…”

  Will’s mouth found his own again — hungry, calescent — and traveled a slow, lazy trail down Taylor’s jaw…throat…collarbone…gentling over the puckered scar on Taylor’s chest. Taylor sucked in his breath.

  “Does that hurt?”

  He shook his head, although the scars were still sensitive, still felt weird being touched; he wouldn’t want anyone to see them, let alone touch them — but it was different with Will.

  This felt healing. The moist trace of lips, the delineation of tongue. He nipped Will’s ear, and Will caught his breath, nudged Taylor’s face, finding his mouth again for a hard, sweet kiss. A lover’s kiss — while Will’s fingertips dusted lightly over the whorls of damaged tissue. A little more to the left and the bullet would have hit Taylor’s heart, but there it was thumping away, fast and strong against Will’s fingertips, and desire buzzed through his nervous system, and he had never felt more alive than he felt right now.

  Will’s hands slid down, fastening on Taylor’s waist, holding on, lips moving over Taylor’s. Hot and soft, Will’s tongue pushing inside Taylor’s mouth, and Taylor mewled, wriggling closer.

  The roughness of their jaws rubbing against each other, eyelashes flickering against each other, noses rubbing against each other.

  Taylor tore his mouth away and said breathlessly, “You must not think we’re going to make it.”

  “We’re going to make it.”

  “Yeah? What’s this supposed to be? A mercy fuck?” Taylor was smiling — he could feel Will’s surprise.

  Will shut him up the best way he knew, slipping his tongue back inside Taylor’s mouth, teasing and sweet, playful like they had all the time in the world — like they should have done a long time ago.

  Taylor’s newly warmed hands slid eagerly over Will’s body, moving to the fastening of his pants, and Will reciprocated, undoing Taylor’s jeans and working his hand inside Taylor’s boxers as they humped against each other, pressing close, hips grinding, cocks stiff and shoving against each other.

  Palming one hard ass cheek, Will pinched. Taylor bucked. Will smoothed away the sting, smiling against Taylor’s mouth, and their kiss went deeper, hotter, tongues twining.

  Will thrust up, Taylor arched back, and they were struggling desperately to find the rhythm, pushing into each other’s touch, frantic with need to be together in this, burning up with it.

  Will was panting against his ear, hot moist gusts. Taylor pulled him closer, bit his throat, groaning pleasurably when Will nipped back. Bodies writhing, cocks rubbing, chests pushing against each other — it was feverish and fast and all too fleeting. Will reached down and took Taylor’s wet-tipped cock in his hand, and Taylor rocked up against him, hands reaching up blindly, sliding down his biceps, hips pushing frantically into Will’s grasp.

  “You’re purring again,” Will said unsteadily, starting to laugh. “That is…beautiful…”

  He was working both their cocks together, and Taylor struggled not to thrash around, to keep his movements tiny and tight because he didn’t want to knock down the entire building. He fastened his mouth over Will’s, smothering the yell he knew was coming.

  And sure enough, Will’s body bowed and then released in blazing hot pulse beats, slick heat spilling over Taylor’s hand while he tried to hush Will’s cries against his own.

  Will shuddered all over, his hands faltering for a moment, going soft. He tore his mouth away, gasping for air. Taylor jerked against him, frustrated, and then Will’s hands tightened again, and he set Taylor free with a couple of hard strokes, and bright release crackled through his body like raw electric current. He was coming hard, and he felt Will’s hand slip, regain its grip, and milk him of the last sweet splashes of liquid heat.

  They rested together then, warm and drowsy while the birds in the meadow sang good morning.

  * * * * *

  Will stroked Taylor’s hair, fingering the little streak of silver that had appeared after the shooting. “It’s light. We should get moving.”

  Taylor nodded. “They’ve got your map?”

  “I don’t think they’ll go for the money now. They’ll figure they have to stop us first.”

  “But they’ve gotta know they’re running out of time. What are they going to do about Stitch’s body?”

  “There are all kinds of places they can stash that body. It could be months — years — before anyone discovers it.”

  “If it was me, I’d go for the money.”

  Will grinned reluctantly. “Yeah, but you’ve got nerves of steel. Nothing distracts you from what you want.”

  “You oughta talk,” Taylor said. “Anyway, I’ve been known to…cut my losses.” A little muscle moved in his jaw. “I know not everything I want is possible.”

  “What do you want?” Will asked. His fingers brushed Taylor’s cheek, feeling the softness of beard over the hard planes of jaw. “Besides getting out of here alive.”

  Taylor didn’t speak for a moment. “I want you,” he said at last. Sunlight filtering through a chink in the lean-to illuminated his face. He looked tired and unexpectedly vulnerable. “I know what you think. And I know I don’t have a great record when it comes to relationships, but —”

  “Four years,” Will interrupted. “Or close enough. That’s how long we’ve been partners — that’s the longest relationship I’ve ever had, and it’s been with you.”

  To his surprise, Taylor’s face quivered. He closed his eyes, hiding his feelings from Will, and Will absently noted how long his eyelashes were. He’d noticed that in the hospital too, sitting by Taylor’s bedside waiting for him to wake up. Those long, black eyelashes…

  “Hey,” he said softly, “are you falling asleep in the middle of my big romantic speech?”

  Taylor’s lashes lifted. “Did you mean it? What you said before about taking it one day at a time?”

  “Yeah, I meant it. Of course I did. I’m not letting you go without a fight.”

  Taylor said carefully, “As your partner or —?”

  “As my friend, my lover, my partner. All of it. One day at a time,” Will said. “Starting with today.” And this time his kiss was a promise.

  * * * * *

  “Watch for rock slides here,” Will warned.

  It was late afternoon. It had taken the larger part of the day to cut back over the bluffs and they were working their way down the back of the mountainside. There was no trail to speak of, and they had to focus on their footing. Far below was a long valley with what appeared to be the scattered buildings of a ranch.

  “What is that?” Taylor asked, sliding to a stop beside Will.

  “I think that’s the health resort I was telling you about.” Will shaded his eyes, studying the empty corrals and tumbled down buildings. “It looks abandoned.”

  “We could burn the buildings down.” And at Will’s expression, Taylor said, “We’ve got to get the att
ention of someone: other hikers, rangers, campers. We can’t keep this up forever.”

  Will’s gaze was measuring, and Taylor said, “That’s not what I mean. I’m okay, but we can’t play hide and seek on this mountain all day.”

  “Yeah, you’re great. We both are. Tired, hungry, thirsty —” He brushed the edge of his thumb against Taylor’s cheekbone. “Sunburned. Next time, you pick the vacation spot.”

  “Now that I’m holding you to.” Taylor smothered a yawn. “Maybe they did go after the money.”

  Will shook his head. “Even if they went to that meadow and found Jackson’s body, they know we were there first. It’s just going to confirm their suspicion that we found the money and hid it. And they’re right.”

  “If they did use your map to find the meadow, how long would it take them?”

  Will did some calculations. “If they started last night they’d have reached the meadow by midmorning.”

  “They’d look around to see if we hid the money. They were tracking us with binoculars from the time we stopped at the mineral springs.”

  “We’d already hidden the money by then — and if they knew where we’d stashed it, they wouldn’t have bothered tracking us down last night.”

  “Do you think there’s any chance they could follow our tracks to the bear box?”

  “One of that group has a fair amount of tracking experience. I’m guessing it’s Orrin.” Will’s eyes met Taylor’s. “But I think they’ll come straight after us. They know we eventually have to make our way down. They’ll try to intercept.”

  “Then we better keep moving.” Taylor rose and reached down a hand to Will.

  * * * * *

  The wind made a mournful sound through the broken boards of the old lodge. Shafts of sunlight, fading with the dimming daylight, highlighted floating motes — and striped the body lying facedown in the dust. The bullet hole in the back of the uniform jacket was crusted with blood several days old.

  “Jesus.” Taylor buried his nose in the crook of his arm as he approached the corpse. “That’s why they thought they might need an insurance policy. They killed a ranger.”