Black Sun by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 67

As tired as they were, they walked the mile and a half east toward the pond. Even at a slow pace, it only took about half an hour before the first shimmer of light cast itself into view. Seeing a small beach towards the right, the group decided that would be the best place to stop. Emma, being first to arrive, eagerly stripped down to her panties and waded in. The cold water bit into her skin, but after a few minutes of acclimation, she walked out further and dove in. Bobbing up to the surface, she described the sensation in very specific language.

“Holy fucking shit! That is fucking cold.” In spite of this, Emma urged Ryan and Abby to join her. Abby, however, was already undressing and having exposed her naked body walked into the frigid water. With the lack of clothing, her growing pregnancy became obvious, leading Ryan to again consider his eventual responsibilities as a parent. But for now, it was time for a little fun and Ryan quickly stripped down and began entering the water, leading Emma to whisper her observations to Abby.

“Jesus Christ,” she began. “Now I can see why you're so attracted to him. He's hung like a fucking horse.” Abby replied with a playful grin.

“You have no idea.”

Now, Emma caught herself gawking and further commented on Ryan's anatomy.

“So, uh, feel like sharing? I haven't been laid in, like, forever, and I could really use some dick right about now.” In an expression of playful protest, Abby splashed a bit of water in her face.

“I don't think so,” she said. “That dick belongs to me.” Emma splashed a bit of water back at her. This was followed by a girlish giggle.

“Are you sure?” Emma replied. “It would only about an hour.”

“That is so bad,” Abby exclaimed.

Both began giggling as they continued splashing water at each other, but as Ryan neared, their whimsical laughter faded. However, Ryan had already heard the conversation and decided that a bit of humor was needed.

“So,” he began. “What is this about you not having a dick? I'd loan you mine, but I'm kind of using it right now.” Abby swam over to him and turning to Emma staked her claim while reaching over and grabbing Ryan far beneath the water, who was more than a little surprised.

“Whoa, are you nuts?” he asked. “Not in front of Emma.” Knowing where Abby's hand had wandered to, Emma provided a few words of encouragement.

“Oh, it's okay, as long as I get to watch.” Ryan's face flushed with embarrassment as he gently pushed Abby's hand away, promising her they would continue at another time—perhaps in the woods.

With the sun fading into late afternoon, the trio waded to shore, got dressed and started back to the cabin. Their brief but lively conversation faded into the vault of memory as keen senses replaced jovial laughter. Stepping with both haste and caution, Emma led the trio back to the cabin. Their feet, making silent contact with the earth beneath them, Abby and Ryan had quickly learned to move through the woods like ghosts, crouching down when sharp observation was necessary. And after roughly a mile and a half, the cabin finally came into view. Ryan and Abby breathed a sigh of relief having returned without getting lost, but Emma, being quite familiar with the area, pointed the way using the trees to avoid walking in a circle.

The night found them weary but warm, with Emma having started a fire in the rocky but well-worn fireplace. Preparing dinner, she took out another slab of venison. The meat she had retrieved by way of her hunting skills was starting to go bad, but not enough that it could not be properly prepared and eaten. Normally, she left it with a thin pink stripe inside but with a few small brown spots on the surface, Emma made certain to cook it thoroughly. The smell of venison steak filled the cabin as Ryan and Abby feverishly waited for that first mouthful of tender meat. After fifteen minutes, dinner was ready. With the absence of vegetables, one might think that complaints would be forthcoming but this was far from the case and Ryan eagerly spoke up with a comical tone. “What's this,” he said. “Steak, again? Oh, my fucking God.” Ryan's brand of humor brought out more laughter as the three sat down to consume the cooked meat. He looked up at Abby and deciding to poke fun at her offered a cautionary reminder of a previous event involving a particular sugary treat. “Abby,” he said. “Slow down. We don't want a repeat of what happened at McDonald's.”

Looking up from her plate, Abby expressed both embarrassment and irritation at his attempt to dredge up what had been a miserable experience.

“Really?” she began. “Do not go there. I mean it.” Emma looked up and with insatiable curiosity insisted that someone tell what was obviously a story worth hearing.

As Abby fumed, Ryan began to tell of what had unfolded at the abandoned road stop. And he made sure to expose every detail, but with more ire than she could contain, Abby interrupted. “Ryan!,” she yelled. “I swear I will beat your ass.” He had never heard her speak this way and had known her, from the beginning, as being rather soft-spoken. But at Emma's continued insistence, Ryan persisted in his narrative, briefly asking Abby to see the humor in such unfortunate circumstances. “Oh, come on,” he said. “Don't tell me you've never laughed at seeing someone puke.”

Abby sat back and crossed her arms as her angst subsided. She had, in fact, been witness to one hapless soul to who ejected their lunch in the presence of a crowded college cafeteria. Its memory left a slight smile on her face as she tried to hold back the laughter she had experienced at the time, and Ryan was quick to point it out.

“See,” he began. “Even you think puking's funny.” He also pointed out the necessity of being able to laugh at oneself. “Alright,” she replied. “Go ahead.”

Feeling relieved at the passing of Abby's venom, Ryan finished the story in disgusting detail, leaving Emma laughing with such hysteria that she fell out of her chair, landing hard on the floor. Naturally, her awkward acrobatics prompted more hilarity until their bodies ached. But as all good times eventually come to an end, Emma brought a sudden stop to the group's raucous laughter. “Guys,” she said. “Stop.”

Ryan and Abby suddenly fell silent as Emma focused on something she thought might be outside. “Did you hear something?”

There was nothing but a suffocating silence, leaving all three with a wide-eyed expression, in fear of something that may not even exist.

“What is it?” Ryan whispered.

Emma brought up a hand, prompting an end to any conversation. Getting up from the floor, she quietly walked over to where her shotgun stood leaning against a corner. She always kept her firearms loaded, knowing that it can sometimes take too long to load if her life became endangered. Motioning Ryan and Abby to get down near the floor, Emma blew out the candle that burned in the middle of the table and, letting her eyes adjust to the sudden darkness, walked to the door. Releasing the makeshift lock, she cracked it open just enough to get a look outside. The early evening sun cast a glorious golden hue across the ground, leaving the Pine trees layered in a rich, hypnotic blaze. Opening the door further, Emma discovered the source of the faint sound that livened her fear of the unknown. About fifteen feet away from the cabin door were two raccoons, drawn by the smell of what might have been dinner. Standing up on their hind legs, they waited for their fair share. But it would not be forthcoming, and Emma didn't want to start feeding them, only to see them repeatedly return for more.

With a sigh of relief, Emma stood back and closed the door, locking it securely. For the sake of safety, she cracked the breach of her shotgun and, leaving it loaded, set it in its dedicated corner. This marked the end of the evening and lighting the candle again, Emma informed Ryan and Abby that she was turning in for the night. Everyone was tired from the day’s activities and were eager to turn in as well. Tomorrow would be another day and like any other day there would be work to do. There was always something that needed doing. The task of survival never takes a day off.