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Authors: Dangerous Ground (L-id) [M-M]
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expression his chest ached in a way that had nothing to do with cold air in his healing lung.
“Did you really want the turkey tetrazzini?” Will asked politely when the water had boiled.
“I was just kidding,” Taylor returned, equally polite.
They ate beef stew in silence. They had cleared the air, but there didn’t seem to be much to say any more. Taylor couldn’t even work up enough enthusiasm to discuss their dead hijacker and casino heist.
The stars came out: incredibly huge and bright in the black skies. It got colder. They were both tired, and Taylor knew he wasn’t alone in not wanting to squeeze into that little tent and lie there listening to each other pretend to sleep.
“Anything else you want out of my pack?” Will asked finally. “Toothpaste? Soap? Anything else to eat?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“I guess I’ll bear bag everything.”
Taylor nodded, but Will made no move to get up and hang the food and items that might attract bears.
He poked the campfire with a stick, his grim face half in shadow, half in rosy light. He could have been a million miles away, sitting on that distant pockmarked moon rising over the serrated tips of the mountains.
Taylor shivered -- and for once Will didn’t notice. Taylor rose. Will didn’t look up. He opened his mouth, but he didn’t know what to say. Instead, he went to get his jacket out of the tent. It was colder tonight, and the air was damp. The night air, spicy with pines and wood smoke, smelled like more rain was on the way. Looking at their sleeping bags lying there side by side gave him a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach.
His SIG was lying on his bag, and he remembered his joke about using it to keep Will back.
Shrugging on his jacket, Taylor crawled back out of the tent.
Will was watching him. He said suddenly, “Look, Taylor. What if we…tried to…I don’t know. Take it one day at a time?”
He looked like a stranger, bearded, his eyes shining with a mystery emotion. He looked intense, urgent.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Bushes to the side of Taylor rustled, and something twittering flew up and winged away into the night.
When he looked back, Will was on his feet -- waiting for his answer, apparently. He wasn’t even sure what the question was.
As he stared, Will shrugged. Said offhandedly, “We could try, right? It would be worth trying.”
Taylor opened his mouth to ask what they were going to try, exactly, but there was motion to his left and
-- and then to the right -- and a couple of shadows detached themselves from the darkness and walked into the ring of campfire light.
Chapter Five
There were three of them. Two men and a woman -- although it took Taylor a moment to identify her as such beneath the shapeless clothing. They wore hunting caps, heavy plaid jackets, and they carried rifles.
Taylor didn’t know much about it, but he was pretty sure hunting was not allowed in a national park.
He barely caught himself from reaching for his missing shoulder holster, instead throwing Will a look, and what he read in Will’s face confirmed that they were in trouble -- even before the trio moved across the open space of the campsite, cutting him off from his partner.
“Evening,” said one of the men. He was older than his companions, sixty or so, but he looked trim and fit
-- and very alert. “We saw your campfire.”
The second man was tall, six-three, maybe six-four. Big. He had long blond curls beneath the duck-billed hunting cap. He stepped toward Taylor, staring at his boots.
“It’s him. I’m bettin’ it’s him.”
“You mind?” the older man said to Taylor.
“Do I mind what?” Taylor asked warily.
“The sole of your boot. Let’s see it.”
Taylor thought of the .357 SIG lying on his sleeping bag in the tent. Three short steps away.
But they’d still be outgunned. Will’s 9mm was probably in his backpack, and although these were close
“Did you really want the turkey tetrazzini?” Will asked politely when the water had boiled.
“I was just kidding,” Taylor returned, equally polite.
They ate beef stew in silence. They had cleared the air, but there didn’t seem to be much to say any more. Taylor couldn’t even work up enough enthusiasm to discuss their dead hijacker and casino heist.
The stars came out: incredibly huge and bright in the black skies. It got colder. They were both tired, and Taylor knew he wasn’t alone in not wanting to squeeze into that little tent and lie there listening to each other pretend to sleep.
“Anything else you want out of my pack?” Will asked finally. “Toothpaste? Soap? Anything else to eat?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“I guess I’ll bear bag everything.”
Taylor nodded, but Will made no move to get up and hang the food and items that might attract bears.
He poked the campfire with a stick, his grim face half in shadow, half in rosy light. He could have been a million miles away, sitting on that distant pockmarked moon rising over the serrated tips of the mountains.
Taylor shivered -- and for once Will didn’t notice. Taylor rose. Will didn’t look up. He opened his mouth, but he didn’t know what to say. Instead, he went to get his jacket out of the tent. It was colder tonight, and the air was damp. The night air, spicy with pines and wood smoke, smelled like more rain was on the way. Looking at their sleeping bags lying there side by side gave him a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach.
His SIG was lying on his bag, and he remembered his joke about using it to keep Will back.
Shrugging on his jacket, Taylor crawled back out of the tent.
Will was watching him. He said suddenly, “Look, Taylor. What if we…tried to…I don’t know. Take it one day at a time?”
He looked like a stranger, bearded, his eyes shining with a mystery emotion. He looked intense, urgent.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Bushes to the side of Taylor rustled, and something twittering flew up and winged away into the night.
When he looked back, Will was on his feet -- waiting for his answer, apparently. He wasn’t even sure what the question was.
As he stared, Will shrugged. Said offhandedly, “We could try, right? It would be worth trying.”
Taylor opened his mouth to ask what they were going to try, exactly, but there was motion to his left and
-- and then to the right -- and a couple of shadows detached themselves from the darkness and walked into the ring of campfire light.
Chapter Five
There were three of them. Two men and a woman -- although it took Taylor a moment to identify her as such beneath the shapeless clothing. They wore hunting caps, heavy plaid jackets, and they carried rifles.
Taylor didn’t know much about it, but he was pretty sure hunting was not allowed in a national park.
He barely caught himself from reaching for his missing shoulder holster, instead throwing Will a look, and what he read in Will’s face confirmed that they were in trouble -- even before the trio moved across the open space of the campsite, cutting him off from his partner.
“Evening,” said one of the men. He was older than his companions, sixty or so, but he looked trim and fit
-- and very alert. “We saw your campfire.”
The second man was tall, six-three, maybe six-four. Big. He had long blond curls beneath the duck-billed hunting cap. He stepped toward Taylor, staring at his boots.
“It’s him. I’m bettin’ it’s him.”
“You mind?” the older man said to Taylor.
“Do I mind what?” Taylor asked warily.
“The sole of your boot. Let’s see it.”
Taylor thought of the .357 SIG lying on his sleeping bag in the tent. Three short steps away.
But they’d still be outgunned. Will’s 9mm was probably in his backpack, and although these were close
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