The Caverns of Mare Cetus (8 page)

   Her confidence that it was the men waned as she tried to deny her intuition and fear.
It just had to be them. If it wasn't, then what was it?
The wave broke. A terrifying chill roared into her body; she pulled the trigger down hard.

   An intense pulse of blue light burst out of the barrel, the gun's recoil jarring her arm, a loud crack shattering the stillness. She dropped the electra and fell back, putting her arms out to steady herself. Her eyes fighting against the light, she watched as the electra's discharge spilled along the walls like a swarm of bees, harsh crackling ringing through the passage like static electricity gone mad.

   She sat forward and shielded her eyes with her hand, but the powerful brightness stinging at them caused her to succumb and close her eyes. "This gun is worthless down here. What was Garrett thinking?"

   She waited impatiently, nervously, and rubbed her eyes, which now felt like they were on fire. After a moment, the crackling diminished. She opened her eyes and looked between her fingers, seeing the light had begun to disintegrate into the darkness. Still, she was assailed by bright blotches that clouded her vision. Blindly, she fastened the symotes to the shoulders of her jacket, then groped for the electra, finding it after a moment. She stood up slowly, cautiously. Then she began brushing at her arms and legs with her hands, her motions becoming frantic; it felt like she had ants crawling all over her. Almost as quickly as it had begun, the ghastly sensation passed. The blotches in her eyes having faded, she started forward and waved the pistol menacingly, but even with the power of the electra in her hand, she still couldn't get over the unnerving feeling she was being watched from somewhere in the darkness.

   After she had gone a distance, she noticed there was something laying in the passage not too far ahead of her. It was a pile of something—
clothing, her clothes?
She began anxiously walking toward them, then sprang into a run. At once tremendous pain tore through her feet. She stumbled, hopping on one foot for a few steps, then crashed forward, falling to her hands and knees on a mound of mud-laden sediment. She clenched her teeth in pain as she looked back toward her feet. Just behind her on the cavern floor was an oblong patch of shard-like rocks popping up from the mud. She had run right onto them!

   She pulled her right foot toward her. Her sole was covered in a repulsive collage of mud and dark red blood. She sat up, stretched her right leg out, and brought her left foot toward her, seeing more blood, more lacerations. She picked up the electra and slowly stood up. She swallowed hard and limped forward, stepping as gingerly as she could. As waves of pain poured into her feet, fear set in. She began to ponder the unthinkable—contacting the group. Her stomach soured. She could hear the jokes, see the faces. The intrepid Renata, caught wandering through the caves, half-naked, breaking a dozen STEPS codes.

   After she had maneuvered past more of the wicked rocks, she stopped on a relatively smooth part of the floor. The pile had taken form now. It was her clothes—and her boots were right next to them. She started forward but stopped when she saw lights coming toward her. She crouched near the wall, placing her weight on her toes. A shiver rippled through her at the touch of cold limestone against her naked buttocks. "You knew it all along," she muttered as she watched the approaching lights. As the lights flashed on her, she pulled her jacket down, trying to hide her nudity.

   Ramon hurried toward her, then halted as if he had run into a wall. "Ay, coño! What're…"

   She pointed the pistol at her clothes, which were only a few steps in front of him. "Tell me how the hell those got there."

   "Huh? Hey, where'd you get that thing? I thought Miss Logical said she didn't need a gun."

   "Don't change the subject," she said as she waved the pistol at him. "This is one of the most deplorable things you've ever done."

   His features grew angry. "I haven't done anything to you. Get that gun out of my face."

   She put the electra in her pocket and took a deep breath, fighting back her tears. "Don't just stand there looking like an idiot. Pick up my clothes and bring them over here."

   Ramon picked them up and walked toward her.

   Renata pulled her jacket down over her legs as far as she could.

   "Boy, Hunter was right," he said as he stopped in front of her. He held out her clothes. "You do have fine legs."

   A breath of anger filled her lungs. She let go of her jacket and reached for her clothes, but he raised them up and out of her grasp. "What are you doing? Give me those." She stood up straight and grabbed onto them.

   "Oooh, my," he taunted. "Naughty princess."

   She glanced down. Her shirt and jacket had risen above her waist, exposing her pubic hair. "Asshole!" She ripped her clothes from his hands and crouched low, pulling them over her lap. "You voyeuristic asshole."

   "I never refuse what the gods offer me."

   "You've seen what you came for. Now go find the gods and thank them."

   "Si, Señorita Stone," he said, chuckling, "but don't you think you want these?" He dangled her panties in front of her face.

   "You son of a bitch!" she shouted, her face turning red. She snatched them from his hand.

   He got down on one knee. "Here, let me help you with them."

   "No!" she screamed. "Get away from me!"

   "My, my. Niña piripi pierde el control ahora, no está ella?" He stood up and laughed. "Bien. Daré una vuelta. Pero solamente por un momento."

   "Don't tell me I'm losing control," she muttered as he turned his back toward her. "Estás lleno de mierda. Tírate de cabeza al lago—a deep lake." Her eyes locked on Ramon, she sat down and frantically put on her clothes, smearing blood from her feet on her pants and hands.

   "I have to know," he said, turning around, "what were you…" A tense pallor spread through his jovial features as if she had thrown a pail of ice water in his face. "Jesus! You're bleeding."

   "Damn right I am. And if your eyes had been focused on something other than my genitals, you'd have known that already."

   "What happened? How'd you cut yourself?"

   "You know what happened."

   "I do?" He knelt beside her. "Let me take a look, will you?"

   She sat back against the wall and stretched out her legs.

   He raised her right foot by the ankle while taking a white cloth out of his pocket. "Damn. It looks like you walked through a pile of broken glass." He pressed it against her foot.

   She winced.

   He sat down and placed her heel on his thigh, continuing to press firmly on the cloth.

   She cried out and yanked her leg away from him. "What are you doing? It feels like you're sticking a knife in there."

   "Give me a chance." He pulled her foot toward him. "Here's the problem. There's a shard wedged in your sole. Give Dr. Ramirez a sec." He rummaged through his pocket and pulled out a pair of tweezers. He grasped her ankle tightly.

   "Ow!" she cried as she tried to pull her leg from his iron grip. "Ramon, you have all the ineptitude of a medical school dropout. Ow! Ow!" As she felt the tweezers press deeper, she clenched her jaw in pain.

   "Got it," he said, releasing her ankle. He held up the tweezers, proudly displaying a small razor-sharp piece of rock. He quickly placed the cloth against her sole. "Hold onto this while I look at your other foot."

   She pulled her right leg toward her and placed both hands on the cloth, pressing tightly. In a short time they had her bleeding under control—then she laid into him. "You bastard! If you didn't sneak up here and steal my clothes, none of this would have happened."

   "Steal your clothes?" His voice rose. "You're kidding, right?" He took off his hardhat and set it down. Then he slipped off his backpack.

   "How stupid do you think I am?"

   "Listen, Ray-na-ta. Arielle, Hunter, and Isis just ripped me a new one. I'm not going to be able to sit for a month. The last thing I want to do is have them on my case again. I came down here to apologize for insulting you. I was way out of line. I'm sorry."

   "Bull. This is just your style."

   "I'm telling you, that's the honest truth."

   "If you didn't do this, then tell me how my clothes got out here?"

   "I don't know," he said. "I don't even know what your clothes were doing off in the first place."

   "Oh. I see now. Someone in the group is trying to frame you, right?"

   "Come on already. I don't know how they got here and where they got here from. And only Garrett and the Iob left the group, but why would…"

   "Damn right he wouldn't. Only you would stoop this low."

   "Renata! I swear I didn't do it." He lowered his head and chuckled. "But Jesus, I never expected to meet you coming the other way like that. I almost wet my pants." He put his hand over his mouth but continued to laugh.

   Unable to believe he could be laughing at her misery, her expression soured. A tear slid down her left cheek in a long, steady stream. Another appeared from her right eye and rushed to her cheekbone, stopping indecisively at the top. Then it too slipped down her face. More followed in cadence, first left, then right.

   "Hey. Don't cry."

   At once her tears stopped flowing, and she didn't know why, but she was possessed by a chuckle that grew into a laugh. "I'm a fool to think I'd ever beat the Great Ramon."

   "You're no fool," he said, sounding sympathetic.

   She stopped laughing. "Don't feed me that. I thought you referred to me as an ice cavern."

   "Maybe I was wrong."

   "You, wrong? Since when?"

   "It has happened, I mean, I never would have guessed you had such fine assets." He put his hand on her knee.

   She scratched her shoulder as her thoughts swelled with an insatiable greed to beat him at his own device. "Assets?"

   He began gently rubbing his hand on her knee.

   She would have expected to flinch at his touch, but didn't. In fact, the way he was doing it, his unexpected gentleness, was sending a vindictive, unwholesome plan through her head. "You think you're all-knowing when it comes to ice caverns," she said as she unfastened the top snap on her jacket. "But in reality…" She popped open another snap, deliberately, seductively. "…you wouldn't know what to do with one…" She gave him a pronounced, alluring gaze; another snap opened, then another. "…if you had her in your hand." She slipped off her jacket and sat on top of it. Then she placed her hands down on the ground behind her and inhaled deeply, her chest responding with a titillating prominence.

   Ramon's mouth dropped.

   "So, who's frozen now?"

   "Not me, dulzura." He began gently caressing her cheek with his hand.

   "I've felt better," she said as tingles seemed to spark from his touch, spreading through her body.

   He slipped his other hand under her shirt, and she moaned softly. Her eyes widened in astonishment.
How could she be enjoying this?
This was supposed to be her trap, not his.
As his hand came precariously close to one of her breasts, she tried to stifle another moan. Her breathing became heightened, unbridled lust spilling through her.
Wait! Had she lost her mind?

   Her common sense returning like a gale force wind, she sat forward and grabbed his arm.

   "Dulzura. What are you doing?" He pulled her closer and began kissing her neck.

   "Get your hands off me! Let go!"

   He chuckled. "Mi amor. Descansa. Dejame hace amor con tú." He tried to pull her shirt up.

   She frantically grabbed at his arms. "Let go! Let go of me!"

   Like his arms had become tentacles, he began groping at her.

   "Stop it! Let go!" She let loose with an elbow to his jaw.

   "Ow!" He pulled his hands away. "Dulzura. What's that for?" He pressed himself on top of her, pushing her to the ground on her back. He grabbed her hands and pinned them to the ground.

   "You're crushing me! Get off! These rocks are killing my back!"

   He began kissing her face, trying to get to her lips as she squirmed to avoid him. "Vamos. No más juegos. Estoy loco por tú, Arielle. Estoy embrujada."

   "Arielle? Playing games? Estas loco." Her eyes grew dark, sinister, calculating. "Okay," she said. "Besame. Besame y que voy a morir."

   "Mi tragona," he said, then pressed his lips against hers.

   She drove her tongue inside his mouth, then pulled back, letting him respond, and as he did she clamped down on his tongue like a vise.

   He let out with a muffled scream and let go of her hands. She released her grip on his tongue, and he jerked his head back, then rolled off her body. She got to her knees, then slapped him across the face. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

   After he rubbed his face with his hand, he began consoling his tongue with his fingers. "What was that for?"

   "You're lucky I didn't bite it off."

   He let go of his tongue. "Renata?" He peered at her face quizzically. "Renata?"

   "Where do you get off thinking you can force yourself on me?"

   His voice gained intensity. "What? Are you insane?"

   Her eyes narrowed. "What are you saying?"

   He glanced around. "How the hell did you bite me like that? What was my tongue doing anywhere near your mouth?" He put his hand on his forehead.

   "You bastard! You're going to deny it? You goddamn bastard!"

   "Look," he said, putting up his hands. "I came out here to find you, and I find you nearly naked. And yeah, you looked fine, muy bonito. But that's all I do—look. Arielle's my love. I've never cheated on her. And I certainly wouldn't cheat on her with you."

   "Vete pa'l carajo! Deny these, Señor Fiel." She turned her back toward him and pulled up her shirt. "Look at the marks on my back. The ones made by the rocks that dug into me while you crushed me into the pavement. Do you think I did that to myself?" She let her shirt fall.

   "Ay, Dios mío. Sabo ni una cosa condenada. I did that to you, and I can't remember it? I'm going crazy then." He shook his head.