A Forest of Corpses (11 page)

A Forest of Corpses

by P. A. Brown

brightness moments ago, I had to blink several times to see where I was going. So it was hardly surprising when I stumbled over something in my path. I twisted around sharply and only a last minute grab at a thin tree trunk kept me from pitching on my face.

Jason was at my side immediately. "You okay?"

I shook off his solicitous hand and straightened, trying to see what had tripped me. All I could make out was a tangle of undergrowth and fallen branches all woven together forming a thick mat. The air smelled heavier in here, full of rich earth scents and decaying vegetation. A somnolent buzzing filled the dimness surrounding us. There seemed to be fewer bird calls, and those I heard were deeper in. Nothing moved around us.

"Is it always this quiet? Where are all the birds?"

"It's midday, they aren't very active in the heat. Like everything else, they siesta to save energy."

"Doesn't sound like a bad idea to me," I muttered.

"There's water up ahead. We want to get across it and back up to higher ground. We can rest then."

I nodded and calculated our path. But I was hopelessly out of my element. I couldn't see where we had come from or what might lie ahead of us. Distantly, I thought I heard the sound of running water like Jason had said. Or it could have been the wind through the branches. There was a constant mutter all around, like surf. The water sounds grew louder as we made our way downhill.

"Watch your step, this area is steep."

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Fortunately, there were trees and tree branches in abundance to provide hand holds to keep me from rolling down the ever steepening hill side. The underbrush grew denser too, tangling my new boots up and forcing me to slow to barely a crawl. But finally we broke out into a rocky creek bed where water danced and laughed over smooth sun-bleached rocks and the odd waist-high, bone-white boulder.

I was dismayed to realize Jason meant for us to cross the water without a bridge. I was glad for my new hiking boots.

The rocks were slippery and unstable and only the good grip the boots gave me kept me from falling and breaking something. By the time we made the other side I was drenched up to my knees.

And cold. The water was like ice.

"Meltwater." Jason grinned at my discomfort and urged me on. "Almost there. Just a quick climb up and we can sit down.

At least you got cooled off, right?"

Once he stopped me half way up the steep brush-covered slope and I froze without a clue to why. I heard soft bird songs, but that was about it.

"Blackback Woodpecker," he said, head cocked as though to hear something I wasn't aware of. Then something screamed and I jumped. "Scrub jay. Noisy, but a good early warning system."

"Warning for what?"

"Er, things."

"Jay," I said warningly.

He shrugged. He wasn't happy, but he said, "Bears.

Cougars. People," he added hastily.

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Bears again. I sighed. "Are you sure it was a good idea to leave my weapon behind?"

"Oh, that. Sure," he said laughing. "It wouldn't have been much help anyway."

"What do you mean? I'm a good shot. You know that." I was surprised that he was expressing doubt in me. Normally he knew better.

"I know you are. But a handgun isn't going to stop a charging bear. An elephant gun might. A bazooka. Not much else will."

"Oh, that's reassuring."

He slipped his arm around my shoulder and stroked my cheek. "Nothing's going to happen, Sir."

I grabbed his hand. "I'm the one who's supposed to say that."

"Yes, Sir." He smiled and looked down. His cheek had a streak of dirt on it. He looked like a chastised little kid caught being bad. I leaned forward and kissed him.

"Get us out of here," I said. "I need a drink."

By the time we scaled the miniature mountain back up to level ground I was beyond beat. The coolness of my wet legs had vanished, replaced by clamminess and sodden denim. I found the first fallen log and slumped onto it, not caring when the moist bark broke off under my butt and covered my lightly clad legs with dark, fragrant pieces, or the dampness that soaked into my ass.

Jason thrust a canteen into my hand and I guzzled the cool water down a parched throat. I sighed and handed it back to him. He took an equally deep drink.

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"You did good, Sir." He studied my face and frowned. "How do you feel?"

I tipped my head back and closed my eyes, letting my hands dangle between my legs. The muscles in my thighs felt hot and tight. "Tired," I said, knowing I would never have admitted that to anyone else in the world. "I never quite realized how out of shape I am."

He tucked his canteen back onto his pack and knelt in front of me. I peered down at him through half-closed eyes. When he started massaging my legs I groaned.

The next ten minutes were sheer pleasure, greater than anything I'd ever experienced. He worked every muscle in my leg from my ankles to my butt. By the time he leaned back and flexed his fingers I felt limp.

He grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet. "We need to keep moving. We can't pitch camp here. It won't be much longer, though. We need to find one of the water outlets.

They mean we can camp."

The spot he eventually stopped us in didn't look much different than a dozen other areas, but I had to take his word on it that this was "perfect" as he said, with enthusiasm I was incapable of sharing. There was a water spigot, so we filled up both our canteens. Jason had warned me more than once that we couldn't drink from any water source but these. As if. I don't drink out of things where fish fuck or animals shit. We had included some water purification tablets in our packs, but Jason said he didn't want to use them unless it was absolutely necessary.

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According to Jason, one person could assemble the tent we bought. Good thing too, since I'm not sure how much help I was. We ate a cold supper that night, which included splitting a banana and a peach he had sliced up and stored in a baggy.

Neither of us had the energy left to build a fire and cook anything. After making sure no traces of food remained out to tempt prowling wildlife, we slipped inside the tent that was barely as big as our bed at home. He insisted we strip and put on the long johns he had brought against my will. I'd never even owned a pair of the ridiculous things, but he said it wasn't smart to sleep nude like we did at home. So I pulled them on and grumpily climbed into the sleeping bag, only slightly mollified when he joined me and we spooned.

I had forgotten all about reasserting my position and found sleep overcoming me almost immediately. A crescendo of crickets and tree frogs followed me down into darkness. But it was the soft sound of Jason's breathing in my ear that comforted me most.

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I woke to the delicious feel of Alex's cock pressed between the crack of my ass. At some point he had pulled my long john's down. His mouth slid over the back of my neck, nuzzling and licking me behind my left ear.

Fingers twisted my nipple ring hard, sending a jolt of pure pain and exquisite pleasure straight to the root of my cock. I groaned and arched against him, letting him know I was fully awake.

Without a word he pushed his fat dick past my tight anal ring, slamming up my channel with a grunt. He rode me hard and fast, rocking into me, skimming his fist around my cock and bringing me to a numbing climax seconds after he came inside me.

After he withdrew and I rolled over to look up at him, he gave me a lazy, sated grin.

"I see a good night's sleep agrees with you," I said.

"Slept like a baby." He reached for his glasses.

I looked down at his limp cock. "Sure don't wake up like one."

He ran stiff fingers through my short hair, tilting my head back so he could study my face before kissing me soundly.

"No, I don't. What's for breakfast, boy?"

I scrambled into clothes and climbed out of the tent. Alex was at my heels, tucking his pant legs into his boot tops like I had told him, to keep out bugs and prickly seeds. He left his plaid shirttail out and his sleeves rolled up over his muscular 105

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arms. I stepped into the woods to take care of business after warning Alex to watch out for poison oak. It was barely dawn.

The crisp morning air was cool and alive with bird song.

Without even trying, I heard an orange-crowned warbler, and a mountain quail, along with the usual complaining jays. The air carried a bevy of odors from all around us. Pine resin from upslope, sage, creosote and mulch from the meadows beyond the riparian woods we were in. Somewhere, the smoke from a fire. We weren't alone on the mountain. Like you could actually be alone anywhere in California these days. As long as they weren't parked next to us, and they didn't make a stink about two guys sharing a small tent, I didn't care.

I saw Alex with the camera, taking candid shots of me as I got things ready for our breakfast.

I pulled my backpack down from the tree I had stashed ours in and rummaged through it. Digging out the battered cooking pot I'd hung onto even after years of not using it, I got a fire going and soon had coffee brewing; if you can call dumping a mound of coffee into the pot and covering it with enough water to give us each a cup brewing coffee.

Dehydrated eggs and the last of the fresh fruit we had carried in with us was breakfast.

He made a face when I served him the coffee. "Sorry, no Starbucks up here." I waved toward the slope we had climbed up yesterday. "Before we strike camp we can go down there and splash water on our faces."

He grimaced.

"Get used to a whole new level of clean." I grinned. "Good thing I like the way you smell."

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He grimaced some more and buried his nose in his tin mug. But I could tell he was pleased. I hoped he liked the way I smelled, too.

Packing up took at least fifteen minutes longer than it would have taken me on my own, but I knew better than to make Alex feel helpless or incompetent. Once our gear was on our backs and I made sure everything we'd brought in was coming out with us, I did something I should have done from the beginning. I scoured the forest floor until I found four walking sticks. When I handed two to him he looked at them, then at me dubiously.

"They're improvised Nordic walking poles. If I'd been thinking I'd have picked up the real thing." He demonstrated how to use them. "Trust me, climbing up and down hills will be a lot easier with these. Gives you better balance. And they're a great all body workout. Get those lats and core muscles in shape."

He tested his like I'd showed him, seemed satisfied and waved me to go ahead of him.

"I'd like to follow the water, if that's okay with you." I hefted my brand new Nikon binoculars that Alex had bought for me. "See a lot more around water."

He nodded and flexed his legs a few times to stretch what were no doubt sore muscles from yesterday's hike. I added an incentive.

"I think there's a pool further up. We can stop and do a quick cleanup if you're interested. Just no hanky-panky.

Chances are we won't be alone for long."

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"I'll save the hanky-panky for tonight, then." And there was dark promise in his intense look. I got hard just thinking about it.

"Well, Sir," I said softly. "Let's get on the road so tonight comes sooner, why don't we? We have a long way to go today. I'd like to try for at least ten miles."

Our time was slow in the beginning. I knew Alex was probably stiff from his unfamiliar workout yesterday and face it, I was too. What with school and the demands of taking care of Alex and our home, I hadn't done as much hiking lately as I would have liked. We both needed to get our sea legs.

I paused frequently, ostensibly to scan the overhead limbs and nearby bushes for elusive birds, but also to give us both a break. At one point, I followed the chattering call of a mountain quail and found a female and her newly hatched brood. When I pointed them out to Alex he gave me a big dopey smile as a reward. Even hardened police detectives can be charmed by half a dozen one-ounce balls of fluff scurrying after their more sedate black and gray mom.

Ahead of us, golden sun streaked through a break in the trees. Dust motes and flying insects danced in the still air while nearby, something croaked. As the day lengthened and the heat mounted, cicadas began their electronic singing.

It wasn't long before I cracked open the bug lotion and we paused long enough to cover each other in the gel. My hair was plastered to my scalp. Even Alex had sweat collecting under his armpits and trickling down his face.

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"Almost there," I muttered when I heard the change in pitch from the steady whisper of moving water to our left.

"Want to head down?"

He nodded and I led the way downhill. A gangly, brown shape flew across our path, darting under a dense cluster of gray-green brush. Twigs rattled, then quieted as the rabbit passed. Then just as we started down again the most God awful scream rent the air.

We both froze, hearts trip hammering behind tense rib cages. The sound was not repeated. Belatedly, I realized what it was.

Alex started off the path toward the sound. "What the hell was that?"

"The rabbit. They scream like that."

"A rabbit? You're telling me that was a rabbit?"

"I know. It spooked me the first time I heard one. Thought some kid was being murdered. But trust me, it's nothing."

Alex came back, grumbling. I thought I caught something about cities being a whole lot safer. There the only thing screaming were people, and he knew how to deal with that.