by John Inman
“What about you?” Jonas all but accused, and Terry reluctantly lowered his visor.
Jonas’s gun arm was starting to cramp up. After all this time, the stupid .38 felt like it weighed ten pounds. Jonas was pretty sure if he did have to shoot, he couldn’t hit an elephant. Let alone a charging mountain lion.
He took a step forward.
“Stay!” Terry snapped, like Jonas was a misbehaving cocker spaniel.
So Jonas stayed. But he wasn’t happy about it.
Terry turned back around to face the problem. He edged deeper into the cavern, skirting the heap of rocks and approaching the mother and child. They hadn’t moved, and they were no longer watching him. Their eyes were frozen on the cat that was still hidden from Jonas’s view.
But not from Terry’s. “I see it,” he quietly said. He forced up a smile for the girl’s benefit. “It’s a big one, just like you said.” Jonas could hear the tension in Terry’s voice even while he was trying to stay calm for the benefit of the young woman and her daughter. Of the two of them, Jonas decided, it was the daughter who was holding it together best. The mother not so much. There were tears streaming down her horrified face, and she was clutching her daughter so tightly that the kid was starting to squirm under the mother’s mindless grip.
Jonas froze when Terry lifted his shotgun, aiming it at the big cat Jonas still could not see.
“Don’t move,” Terry told the two yet again. This time as soon as the words were out, he took a shooter’s stance and propped the shotgun securely against his shoulder, ready to fire if he had to.
Jonas saw a mere glimpse of a tawny tail whipping back and forth above the rocks. Apparently, Terry had its attention now, and the beast wasn’t happy about it. Jonas cringed every time he heard a chuff of expelled air or the sccritchh of claws raking hard stone. The cat was furious.
“Ease back into the shadows,” Terry calmly ordered the woman. “I’ll try to drive the cat outside.”
Jonas realized suddenly that if the mother and daughter were blocking one escape route for the big cat, and Terry was blocking the other, then the damn thing would have to fly straight at him if Terry did actually manage to scare it away.
“Wait!” he started to call out.
But before he had a chance, a horrible caterwauling rose up behind him. It was so unexpected, Jonas almost keeled over in a dead faint, thinking there was another troop of lions bearing down on him. But when he spun around to face this brand-new terror, all he saw was a tiny shadow whipping past his feet, trailing a bright blue leash behind it.
It was Bruce! The little pug! And he looked really pissed.
Without hesitation, Bruce flew around the edge of rocks on his short little legs. He ignored Terry altogether and planted himself smack in front of the big cat. Bruce stood there, trembling in fury, hopping up and down like an irate Chihuahua. He growled and snapped and barked and yipped and made enough noise for ten dogs. His hackles rose on his tawny back, making him look considerably larger than he actually was, which was still pretty damn small. Fearlessly, he bared his little teeth at the cat that weighed about twenty times more than he did. In all the confusion, the mountain lion lost a bit of its bluster. It took a step back, clearly confused. When Bruce growled deep in his throat, the cat shuffled back a little more.
“Bruce, no!” Terry cried. He lunged forward to reach for the pug to yank him out of danger, but Bruce danced to the side, eluding his grasp. Still trailing his blue leash, the little dog snarled like a grizzly and launched himself straight for the lion’s throat. Caught totally off guard, the mountain lion defied gravity completely. It sprang straight up into the air like it had been shot from a catapult. The lion pounced to the top of the mound of stones. From there, it gave a leap and sprang out over Jonas’s head—who almost had a stroke—and flung itself through the cave door. With a clatter of stones and final roar of fury, it disappeared into the trees.
Jonas stood there stunned, his heart stuck in his throat. Not really thinking about what he was doing, he felt his crotch to see if he’d wet himself. He hadn’t. But then the day wasn’t over yet.
He turned back to face the interior of the cave and followed the beam of Terry’s flashlight. It was casting a perfect circle of light on the mother and child, both of them looking shell-shocked by what had transpired. The mother was clearly struggling to pull herself together as she aimed terrified eyes at the two of them.
“Help us get down off this mountain,” she pleaded, still clutching her daughter close. “Please.”
Only then did Terry and Jonas exhale. And a moment later they were shaking themselves to action.
Chapter Eighteen
“DO YOU need food or water?” Terry asked.
The woman and daughter were standing at the side of the trail, about a quarter mile up from where Terry had parked earlier. Jonas was in the act of pouring gasoline into the tank of the woman’s bright yellow Camry at the spot where it had run out of fuel. There was a large smear of dried blood on the car’s front fender, which Terry thought it best not to ask about.
It was only after they were out in the sunlight that Terry recognized the woman. He didn’t know her name, but she was one of the town’s librarians and worked in the public library. He remembered she had helped him find a book on Thoreau once.
If the woman recognized him, she didn’t let on. In fact, she didn’t let on much of anything. She looked like she had been through a lot, and it had left her dazed. Her eyes were a little crazy, and they kept shooting back to her daughter to make sure the child was safe.
“We’re sorry about your husband,” Terry said softly, not wanting to draw the attention of the girl, who was sitting on the ground petting Bruce.
The woman nodded. She opened her mouth to speak, decided those weren’t the words she wanted, then weakly admitted, “He didn’t stand a chance.”
“No,” Terry said, flashing back on Bobby’s death. “I don’t suppose he did.” He watched Jonas fiddle with the gas can for a minute, then turned back to the woman. “Will you drive down to the foot of the mountain where the authorities are and turn yourselves in?”
She nodded. “There’s nothing left for us here. We have to leave. I have to get Jilly out.” Again she turned her eyes on her daughter. The woman’s face was dirty, her clothes streaked with clay from the cave. The child was even dirtier, but at the moment she seemed okay. She was humming softly to herself while she patted Bruce.
The mother showed no interest in who Terry and Jonas were or what they thought they were accomplishing by staying on the mountain. She didn’t seem aware that the two strangers had saved her and her daughter’s life. She was concerned with getting away and nothing else. Terry suspected she was about one more surprise away from a nervous breakdown, and Terry couldn’t blame her. Sometimes, at least before Jonas came along, he used to think he was at that point too.
He let his gaze fall on the girl, who was still humming and cradling Bruce in her lap. Bruce was looking very pleased with himself, Terry thought. And for good reason.
The girl’s eyes were wide and bright as she tore them from the pug and centered them on Terry’s face. “You should give him an extra treat tonight,” she said, indicating the dog. “For saving our lives, I mean. He was very brave.”
Jonas and Terry both smiled. Jonas said, “He was, wasn’t he?”
The girl nodded, and then a tear slid down her cheek. “I’m sorry we’re leaving. I’d like to be his friend.”
Terry moved to the girl and knelt beside her. He ruffled Bruce’s ears and offered a gentle smile to the girl. “When this is all over, you can come visit him anytime you want. You and your mom both. Okay?”
The girl nodded, then gazed up at her mom standing over her. Her mother didn’t seem to have heard anything that was said. She simply stood there, watching Jonas pour gas into her tank. Looking impatient. The car keys tinkled in her hand as she turned them over and over, obviously eager to leave.
Jon
as and Terry both studied the woman. It was Jonas who finally spoke the obvious.
“Are you sure you can drive?” he asked gently. “Terry and I can drive you down off the mountain if you like. We’ll have to bow out before you actually make contact with the authorities. Otherwise they may not let us return.”
The woman’s eyes were empty and cold. She appeared almost angry at the men when she said, “Why would you want to return? There’s nothing here but death.” Jonas didn’t seem to have an answer for that. He turned from the woman’s glare and jiggled the last few splashes of gasoline from the five-gallon can into her tank. “Just be careful,” he said, skirting his eyes to the girl. “Take care of your daughter.”
The woman didn’t respond.
The girl was watching them all. Her innocent gaze traveled from Jonas to Terry to her mother. When her eyes reached her mother and settled there, the fear came back into them. With a sigh, she reached up anyway and took her mother’s hand.
“We’ll be okay,” she said, as stalwart and strong as her mother clearly wasn’t. “Mommy’s a good driver.”
“Jilly’s a pretty name,” Terry said.
The girl simply nodded. “I like it.” With that, she stared back down at Bruce in her lap and smiled. She pressed her face into the pug’s neck and closed her eyes. Bruce licked her ear. At that moment, Terry could see how frightened the child really was. He toyed with the idea of taking the two down the mountain whether the mother wanted him to or not but quickly decided it wasn’t his place to demand it. The woman had been through enough. He didn’t think she could take much more drama. Truth be told, neither could he.
He turned to the mother to ask a question, and at the last moment, shifted the question to the girl. “How long were you in the cave?”
She thought about that, glancing only once at her mother, who didn’t seem to have heard what Terry said. “Maybe a couple of hours,” the girl said. “It was scary and dark. I was just starting to get cold when the mountain lion came crawling out of the back. I guess we woke it up.”
“And you didn’t see any of the flying creatures while you were in there? No sign of them? No sounds? No droppings.”
The child shook her head. “Mommy wouldn’t have stayed if we had. She hates them.”
Jonas stepped in on that one. “We all hate them, honey.”
The girl only nodded. “I know.”
“Do you have a place to go when you get off the mountain?” Terry asked.
“Mommy has a friend in San Diego. I guess we’re going there.”
Terry turned to the mother once more, gauging her ability to drive, her ability to protect her daughter. “Go slow,” he said. “The trail is rough. When you get through town and reach the highway on the other side, stop when the cops flag you down. Don’t try to drive away from them. They may be authorized to shoot. You’ll be okay once they realize you’re only trying to find safe haven.” At least he hoped they would.
“Do you need money?” Jonas asked.
The mother rested her empty eyes on him. “For what?”
Jonas was obviously taken aback by the blankness of her stare. He cut a glance to Terry, before turning back to the woman. “I-I’m not sure. Food maybe. More gas.”
“He just wants you to be safe,” Terry interjected. “We both do.”
“We’ll be fine,” the mother said. She waved impatiently at the gas can in Jonas’s hands. “Aren’t you finished yet?”
Jonas looked so startled to be snapped at that Terry almost laughed. He stepped forward and screwed the gas cap back on the woman’s car while Jonas set the empty can aside to be taken back to the Jeep when they were ready to leave.
Terry studied the woman yet again. She yanked her daughter to her feet, dumping Bruce in the grass. “We’re leaving now,” she stated flatly.
Jilly tore free and rushed to Terry. Wrapping her arms around his legs and looking up into his face, she said, “Thank you for saving our lives.” Her eyes, bright with tears, wandered to Jonas. “Both of you.” Releasing Terry’s legs, she stepped back and surrendered her hand back to her mother. She stared down at the little pug and said, “Bye, little guy.”
Bruce wagged his tail in response, and Terry and Jonas mumbled, “You’re welcome.”
Terry reached out to the mother, then just as quickly withdrew his hand. Her attitude wasn’t exactly pleading for physical contact.
“Be careful,” he said. “Don’t stop for anything until you reach the highway. Let the authorities take care of you from there. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
The mother stared at him without emotion. If his words soaked in, she didn’t let on. She merely pushed her daughter through the Camry’s rear door and slammed it shut behind her. The mother climbed into the front, checked to make sure all the windows were up, then turned the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life.
Without a glance at the men watching her, the woman slipped the car in gear and took off, spitting out a spray of pebbles in her wake.
Terry saw a tiny hand appear in the back window before the dust on the lane rose up to erase the yellow Camry from view.
Jonas stepped close and tucked his hand in Terry’s jacket pocket. Leaving it there, Terry dropped his head to Jonas’s shoulder and watched the car disappear down the mountain.
“I guess this cave is clean,” he said.
Jonas looked down at himself. Like the mother, he was covered in clay and muck. “Wish I could say the same for me.”
Terry smiled. “A shower will set us right. Let’s go home. I’ll wash your back.”
Jonas lifted his head and studied Terry’s guileless expression. “Nothing much rattles you, does it?”
“Losing you might do it,” Terry answered.
They both let the silence reclaim them. With Bruce sitting at their feet, they all three stared down the path to where the Camry had disappeared in the distance.
“I guess we saved their lives,” Jonas mumbled. “Cue the ticker-tape parade.” He said it as a matter of irony, clearly not trying to hide his disappointment at the woman’s lack of gratitude.
Terry lifted his head and brushed a kiss across Jonas’s cheek. “Don’t worry. One of these days she’ll wake up and realize what we did. She’ll thank us then.” Again Terry stared down the trail to where the car had vanished. “Poor kid,” he said as a shuddery afterthought.
“Yes.” Jonas sighed, his eyes worried, his voice sad. “Poor kid indeed.”
Chapter Nineteen
KNEELING IN the shower spray, Jonas stroked his soapy hands over the back of Terry’s pale thighs. Terry’s legs were heavily muscled and beautiful. Tree trunks. The pelt of ginger hair that covered his legs was swept into dark rivulets by the rushing water. Unable to restrain himself, Jonas pressed a kiss through the streaming water sluicing down Terry’s back, dragging his tongue south. With his heart thumping in his ear like a tom-tom, he burrowed into the crevice of Terry’s ass and lapped at his opening, smiling to himself when Terry gave a groan of pleasure from on high. When Terry’s hand came down to cup the back of Jonas’s head and hold him in place, Jonas figured he was getting the go-ahead, so he gleefully burrowed deeper with his tongue.
Terry trembled in pleasure and opened his legs even more, giving Jonas all the access he could offer. In appreciation, Jonas reached down to touch his own erection, so filled with blood it ached. He gave his own ecstatic shudder, really starting to get into it, when Terry spun around and tugged him to his feet.
Under the warm spray, Terry wrapped him tightly in his strong arms and brought their mouths together. Terry’s long cock, lathered with Ivory soap, slid across Jonas’s stomach, causing both men to buck. When their tongues touched, Jonas almost came. He opened his mouth wider into the kiss and gave himself up completely to this towering man who was everything he had ever hoped to find.
If only it hadn’t been at the tail end of the world when he found him.
“Fuck me,” Jonas gasped into the kiss.
“Right here. Fuck me.”
Terry reached down and wrapped silky fingers around Jonas’s dick, began gently stroking the hardness he found. Jonas’s legs turned to rubber, and his knees almost buckled. He clung to Terry to keep from collapsing at his feet.
Terry laughed quietly through the spray and eased Jonas around to face the shower wall. With his soapy hand, he opened Jonas up, one finger at a time. Gently, but persistently.
Loving every second of it, Jonas stood shivering, his cheek splayed flat against the wet tile, his eyes squeezed shut in bliss, drooling in anticipation. Terry eased three fingers into him and gently massaged his prostate. The enjoyment factor ratcheted up exponentially. Jonas cried out because he couldn’t seem not to, but his cry was mixed with a laugh. Jesus, it felt so good.
“We’re wasting water,” Terry said, his voice husky with need.
“So turn it off,” Jonas almost wept. “Just don’t stop doing what you’re doing.”
“Bossy,” Terry grunted, sliding the head of his cock over Jonas’s opening. Teasing. Offering up a preview of coming attractions as it were.
How he did it with one hand directing his dick and the other clamped across Jonas’s belly, Jonas wasn’t sure—elbow maybe—but the shower spray instantly stopped. He was about to comment on Terry’s dexterity, when a rod of steel slid effortlessly into his butt. It inserted itself all the way up to his diaphragm, or so it felt, and whatever Jonas had been about to say was lost in the moment. He couldn’t have made a coherent statement if he’d tried.
Neither man seemed prone to conversation anyway.
Terry’s cock was fat with hunger, and Jonas happily accepted every millimeter of it.
Terry buried his face in the back of Jonas’s soap-drenched hair and grunted unhappily, “I’m afraid this’ll be a quickie.”
Jonas shuddered as the massive cockhead slid so deep into his ass it tickled his throat. At least that was the impression he got. “W-why?” he managed to stutter, reaching behind him, trying to drag Terry deeper.
