by Frankie Love
I try to get out of the cave the way I came. If there's an earthquake happening, I don't think a cave is the place I want to be.
I start to cry, realizing it's really bad. My knees buckle and I fall to the ground, scraping up my feet, water covering me. I hold onto a rock, hoping to secure myself when my feet slip out from under me. I am submerged in water, then pulled by a current.
How is it possible for a wave to be rolling through this tunnel?
My body is pushed forward, and it's like a chute has opened up. Like I’m on the log ride at Disneyland, only I’m being pushed through the flume all on my own, no barrel to carry me.
It's a water slide, propelling me forward at an alarming pace. The incline is dangerous and I brace myself by crossing my ankles and pinning my arms over my chest. I close my eyes and hold my breath and hope that wherever this water chute takes me, it's somewhere safe.
When I come to and open my eyes, I realize I'm floating in a lagoon. I blink, confused, not expecting to have made it out of that earthquake alive.
The sky overhead is blue, the sun is out. Gasping, I tread water, wanting to reach the water’s edge.
But before I can reach it, a giant water animal emerges from the pool, its neck long, its mouth full of teeth and its eyes on me.
I shriek in terror, scrambling out of the water, moving as fast as I can. I get to the opposite shore, finding my footing in the muddy bank as two men emerge from the jungle.
These are not like any men I've ever seen before.
They are not paleontologists and certainly not the authorities.
These are wild men – like Tarzan, only this is no animated movie.
This is real life.
"Holy shit," one of them shouts. "It's a woman!"
The other one growls, "She's mine."
CAVE MEN: ORDER
About Frankie
Frankie Love writes filthy-sweet stories about bad boys and mountain men.
As a thirty-something mom who is ridiculously in love with her own bearded hottie, she believes in love-at-first-sight and happily-ever-afters.
She also believes in the power of a quickie.
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