He noticed the gun he had been carrying was missing, along with the spare and the ammo, leaving them without any kind of armed protection.
"Fucking great," he muttered.
Gritting his teeth against the pain in his shoulder, Carson left the sanctuary of Jack's arms and tried his cell phone, not really surprised to find they were out of range and unable to call the others. He sighed wearily; someone up there really had it in for him. Maybe the Jawarans had their own version of the god Loki, a trickster that enjoyed playing with Carson, throwing him into the most unusual situations and watching from the sidelines as he struggled to survive the odds.
Opening his shirt, and peeking under his tank top, he saw the wound had stopped bleeding. Pressing his lips together to prevent a moan from escaping, he slowly removed his shirt. He ripped the sleeves off and turned them into a tourniquet for his shoulder. At least he could feel the exit wound at his back and it didn't feel like the bullet had caused any permanent damage.
He kept an eye on Jack while he did this, but Jack didn't move or react in any way. He remained sitting next to Carson, still rocking lightly, focus turned inward.
Carson rose slowly to his feet, closing his eyes for a moment as he fought nausea and dizziness. With no way to contact the team, without knowing their exact location, with no water, food or shelter, and with the weather turning sour, they couldn't exactly stay put. Plus they both needed medical attention. They would have to move and hope they ran across a road or a friendly tribe. Of course, with his luck of late, they would probably run into a hostile tribe instead, and be tortured, killed and eaten. And not in that particular order.
"Come on, Jack," he said softly, glad when his lover followed automatically.
He couldn't understand why Jack was acting the way he was, why the drug wasn't working as Jabulani had said. Seeing the violence and the anger in Jack under the influence of the toxin had been frightening, but nothing like seeing this silent... zombie-like man walking next to him. If the drug was made with the toxin, probably designed to magnify its effect, shouldn't Jack be even more violent than during their stay in N'bulungi?
Jabulani said that Jack killed one of his men by smashing his skull into a wall. That meant that Jack was still capable of violence, could easily be driven to it. So why did he seem to be responding to Carson? Why wasn't he turning on him? Not that Carson wanted him to, he had enough to deal with. But a small part of him thought that perhaps seeing a furious Jack would be easier than having to watch him as he was now.
They picked their way carefully through the rough trail, Carson keeping a close watch on Jack as they walked side by side, hoping to see some change in the uncharacteristic silence of his partner. Desolation replaced hope as time passed and Jack continued walking, taking no interest in anything around him. As he treaded slowly, Carson could feel his heart breaking, wondering what he would do if Jack didn't return to his former self. Their relationship was still so new, they had so much to look forward to, so much to live for.
Only now they might never get the chance.
Carson stumbled on a root, then caught himself on a tree trunk. Leaning against the tree, he tried to swallow around his dry throat. His strength was fading fast; he would need to take a break soon. A real break, not the occasional stop to take a deep breath as they had been doing since their journey had begun.
He looked at the time, grunting in annoyance as he saw they had only been moving for little over an hour. In his weakening condition, it felt like much longer. Hot pain radiated from his injured shoulder, although the provisory bandage seemed to help staunch the bleeding that had unfortunately started up again.
He shivered as a fierce gust of wind howled over them. The promised rainstorm was approaching fast, probably as bad as the one the day before. The sky was dark and angry, the temperature dropping with the rising wind. They needed shelter, and the sooner the better.
Their slow march continued for yet another hour, then suddenly they reached an area full of ravines and caves.
"There is a God," Carson breathed gratefully, as he spotted the mouth of a small cave not far from where they were standing, near the crest of a low ridge.
They began their climb, his focus never wavering from their promised shelter. Carson's foot slid on the slippery slope, slamming him into the ground. He curled into a fetal ball, eyes squeezed shut, gripping above his left elbow and gritting his teeth to keep from crying out, his breathing shallow and rapid. He couldn't possibly manage to get up again. Sweating from the effort, hurting and shivering, he was at the end of his tether.
Once again it was Jack who unwittingly saved the day. Carson felt Jack drag him to his feet, helping him make it into the narrow cave. He leaned against the wall, panting, trying to control the painful ache in his whole body.
Opening his eyes, he saw scattered pieces of wood lying around, enough to build a small fire and keep it going for a few hours. Clenching his jaw stubbornly, Carson forced himself to gather the necessary amount to start the fire, using Jarod's lighter, something he always carried with him now. Pretty soon the flames were warming up their little haven, the smell of wood smoke filling the cave.
They huddled together instinctively. The throbbing in Carson's shoulder prevented him from falling too deeply into the sleep his body craved, but allowed him to relax into a much needed rest.
# # #
Carson grunted when a weight was suddenly upon him, a wet tongue teasing at the side of his neck, a quick nip on the soft skin behind his right earlobe. He opened glazed eyes, and Jack's face came into his line of vision, blond strands bathed by the light of the fire. Hot breath tickled his chin as Jack leaned down, and then lips were against his, hands rubbing against his groin over his pants, and he felt himself hardening in spite of the throbbing in his shoulder.
Before Carson was fully aware of what was happening, Jack's hands moved to his waist and taking advantage of surprise and Carson's weakness, he flipped Carson over and onto his stomach. Carson gasped at the unexpected move as it jarred his wound painfully, his whole being consumed by agony. Jack pinned him to the cave's hard floor, an insistent knee urging his legs apart. He stretched out on top of Carson, blanketing his body, hips grinding crudely against Carson's buttocks, his erection noticeable even through the clothes they were both wearing.
Dazed and hurting, Carson moaned a protest as he felt fingers fumbling beneath him, parting the snap to his pants. Hands tugged at the jeans, pulling them down to his knees along with his boxers until his lower body was bare. He tried to crawl away, but he was too slow. Jack began kneading his ass cheeks, manipulating them wantonly, and once again Carson felt himself responding to his lover's touch. He cried out abruptly, a wave of goosebumps flushing through his body as a slick softness darted along the crevice between his buttocks, long, thorough strokes that had him writhing and whimpering shamelessly in seconds.
Jack took Carson's hips in his hands, holding him down as thumbs parted him, leaving him exposed. Warm breath blew across his anus, Jack's tongue returning to torment him, caressing the delicate skin, licking at it. Carson quivered, the sensation intensifying as the tongue breached his puckered opening. His whole body was shaking, he wanted to thrash against the touch, but the small part of his mind still functioning reminded him about his wound.
Jack kept working on him, lapping, stroking, slow, patient flickers of his tongue along the tight channel to his body that took Carson's breath away. The slick heat darted past the sphincter once more and he cried out again, then, as suddenly as it had begun, the touch was withdrawn, leaving him bereft.
When his head stopped spinning from both the pain and the pleasure coursing through him, Carson realized Jack was back on top of him, panting harshly as his cock nudged Carson's opening. Carson froze as he understood why Jack had rimmed him so thoroughly; they had no lubrication. Even if Jack wasn't fully aware of what he was doing, his subconscious seemed to have retained enough information to know they would need somethi
ng for their coupling.
Only...
Spit wouldn't be nearly enough to prevent tearing; Carson was too tense and hadn't had anal sex in a while. Even before things between them became sour, he and Bruce rarely indulged in more than blowjobs or a little body friction. And Carson and Jack hadn't gotten that far yet. Besides, it was bad enough their first time had happened under the influence of the toxin. If they did this, Jack would wallow in guilt if he ever remembered any of it.
"Jack, no!" he shouted, making another attempt at escaping the other man's firm grip as Jack positioned himself and began to thrust, his cock rubbing against the ring of muscle. "Jack, please. Stop," he groaned, as he was continuously pressed against the cave's floor, his hands the only barrier preventing his wound from impacting with the rock.
He tried to scramble forward again, but hands seized his hips, dragging him roughly backwards. Teeth sank painfully into his right shoulder, a clear warning to stop struggling.
"Mate!" Jack growled in his ear.
Panting hard as he tried to control his fear, Carson obeyed the command to remain acquiescent, stiffening in anticipation of the pain to come.
The weight holding him down retreated abruptly, and Carson took full advantage of the momentary hiatus by scuttling to the end of the cave. He watched Jack with wary eyes while very slowly pulling his pants up, the throbbing in his shoulder forcing him to leave them undone for the time being. There was still no visible emotion, no sign of recognition, but there were definite changes. Jack was pacing animatedly now, his movements no longer looking forced or unnatural. He was also sporting such a massive hard-on, Carson knew it had to be painful.
Carson had to do something; Jack had gone from apathetic to primal in an instant. And if Carson didn't come up with a solution to their immediate problem, chances were Jack would end up raping him, even if he wasn't aware of his actions. He knew the other man would never hurt him under normal circumstances, but these were hardly normal. It was that damn toxin all over again, and Carson wanted to kill Jabulani a thousand times over for doing this to Jack.
Shaking his head ruefully, Carson decided to reenact one of their favorite sexual acts. The setting wasn't exactly what he had had in mind, but at least it would end their stalemate.
Hauling himself onto all fours, ignoring the growing weakness and the terrible burning in his shoulder, Carson approached Jack carefully, his whole demeanor non-threatening. Keeping his eyes lowered, he took the hard cock in hand, opening his mouth and engulfing the throbbing shaft, enjoying the bitter, musky taste flooding his taste buds.
He slid his tongue along the underside, then found the tip and licked it teasingly, grinning as Jack groaned gutturally. His head bobbed back and forth while he sucked greedily, his hands gripping the firm flesh with his hands. He slowly worked his way up the shaft until only the head remained in his mouth, flicking his tongue over the weeping slit with slow strokes, tasting and nipping and swirling.
One of his hands reached down to Jack's balls, gently cupping his sac, fondling tenderly until he felt them tighten. Jack's legs quivered as he threw his head back, his loud cry echoing loudly in the cave. His whole body shook as he ejaculated, his seed filling Carson's mouth, who tried his best to swallow the offering.
Carson closed his eyes, reaching down to awkwardly zip his own pants before collapsing against the wall. He felt movement close by, but he was too exhausted to investigate. Then Jack's lips were on his once again, pressing softly, sharing taste and moisture and warmth. It was the last thing he felt before darkness took over his world once again.
# # #
Chapter Sixteen
The next time Carson came to it was to the sound of growling. For a brief, frightening moment, he thought the cave they were in was the home of a feline who was now trying to reclaim its territory. But as he opened his eyes, he could see that it was Jack who was growling, his teeth bared, a savage expression twisting his features as he looked outside.
Carson was wondering what had caused this new bout of aggressiveness, when he heard it, "Carson! Jack! Where are you? Jack! Carson!" Voices calling out their names. It was Kit, and she wasn't alone, as he could clearly hear Roger and Jarod.
He closed his eyes, relief making him dizzy. He was about to shout out their location when Jack rushed out of the cave, making his way down the rocky path to where Carson could now see the others. And somehow Carson didn't think Jack's intention was all that friendly.
"Shit," he muttered, getting up with some help from the cave wall.
He walked outside and followed after Jack. Weak as he was he couldn't risk another fall, so he was forced to climb down carefully and he watched with growing horror as Jack reached their friends, throwing himself at Roger, snarling as he hit the fallen man repeatedly. The others stood frozen in shock, watching in astonishment as Roger tried to parry the blows to his face and body.
"Stop him!" Carson shouted.
He wasn't sure if anyone heard him, but Jarod and Brendan were suddenly in the middle of the fight, trying to get Jack away from Roger. When Jack turned on them, Vivian, Kit and Jackie joined the fray, but it looked like an impossible task. Jack fought them all fiercely, biting, punching, kicking, breaking free from their hold. He had the advantage because he didn't really care what he did, while the others were obviously trying not to hurt him.
"Jack, stop!" Carson yelled desperately. "Jack!"
Somehow it worked. Jack stopped fighting, but the others refused to let him go, wary of another attack.
Carson made his way to them, wincing as he saw Roger's bloodied nose and rapidly swelling left eye, and the various scrapes and bruises visible on the rest of the team.
"You okay, Carson?" Jackie asked, licking at a split lip, taking in his rumpled, bloodied clothes and his no-doubt haggard appearance.
He gave her a faint, but genuine smile. "I've been better. I think I should ask you the same, though."
"You think we can release Jack now?" Jarod asked.
"Umm, you think that's such a good idea?" Brendan argued. "If we let him go, he might turn on us again."
"He calmed down when Carson asked him," Vivian said. "And what's up with that?" she asked Carson.
Carson sat on the ground with a grateful sigh. "I've got no idea," he said. "But yeah, I think it's safe to let him go now. He seems to get these outbreaks of aggression, then gets really apathetic."
They let Jack go and to everyone's relief he didn't attack them again. Instead he made his way to where Carson was sitting and sat quietly by his side, eyes downcast.
"Wow," Jackie said. "How did you do that?"
Carson shrugged slightly, then winced. "Like I said, no idea. But he seems to be aware of my presence and understands me up to a point. You wouldn't happen to have any water, would you? I'm dying of thirst." Vivian dropped her backpack to the ground, opening it. Before she could get any closer, Carson stopped her with a warning, "Slowly, Viv. No sudden moves."
She nodded. "Gotcha." She handed him a bottle, careful to keep her movements slow and non-threatening. "Here."
"Thanks." Carson took a few sips, then placed the bottle against Jack's lips. "Water, Jack. You need to drink some too."
Jack didn't move, an eerie passivity once again having taken over the savagery. Carson sighed tiredly, head tilted to the side as he tried to figure out a way to get Jack to drink. He dipped a finger inside the bottle, running it gently over Jack's lips.
Almost immediately Jack's tongue swept over his bottom lip, gathering the moisture there, and once again Carson placed the bottle against his mouth. This time it worked; Jack reached for it and drank greedily, drops of the precious liquid escaping and dribbling down his chin.
Carson brushed his fingers over Jack's hair, pleased. "How did you get here?" he asked his friends.
"We decided to go back after we got your call," Roger said, pressing a handkerchief to his nose. "Zere told us what happened, so we drove to the red mansion."
"We found
a bunch of unconscious men," Jarod continued. "Jabulani dead, and Kit fuming mad because she couldn't find you anywhere. Viv found your tracks and we came looking for you."
"I killed Jabulani. He's responsible for Jack's condition," Carson said, aware that his anger at Jabulani and his fear for Jack had to be clear in his face.
"We know," Brendan said. "Kit found a journal in a lab back at the mansion. I'm not familiar with all the scientific jargon in it, but I understood enough. This guy was testing a new drug on Jack, and one of the components was the N'bulungi toxin."
Carson nodded. "Yeah. It doesn't seem to be working as planned, though. He gets really violent one minute and passive the next. I don't think that was the intention. That journal..." He hesitated, almost afraid to ask, afraid to hear the answer. "Did it mention an antidote?"
"No," Brendan said, his lips pressing tightly for a moment. "But it does list all the components that make the drug. I know a few people that may be able to help us come up with something. I'll get in touch with them as soon as we get back."
Carson nodded. "Thanks."
"How did you get hurt?" Vivian asked.
Carson grimaced. "I was shot by one of Jabulani's thugs."
"What happened to you after we split up?" Kit asked.
"I found Jack on the second floor, but Jabulani surprised us before we could leave. After I killed him I decided to go look for you, but when we got outside, the guard shot me and I passed out. Jack obviously took it upon himself to take us to what he perceived as safety. When I regained consciousness we were in the middle of the jungle, so I thought it best to keep moving."
"I should take a look at your shoulder," Brendan said with a frown.
"Let's try it," Carson agreed. "But Bren, remember... keep your voice low and don't make any sudden moves."
Brendan nodded and, armed with the first aid kit, walked over to Carson. He sat on the ground, as far away from Jack as possible, and did the best he could with the supplies he had.
"Not bad. You're not bleeding, and the bullet went clean through. You'll still need a trip to the hospital." He looked at the others. "Actually, we all do. Jack sure packs a punch."
The Ripple Effect Page 20
