The Erotic Expeditions - Complete Collection (18 page)

Her hand went to the bump on the side of her head. She’d been thrown by the wind.

Was Quinn okay?

“Quinn,” she started to say but only succeeded in coughing. Not only was her throat scratchy but the coughing produced a dull ache in her chest, like a cold.

Quinn’s shadow passed over the front of the tent.

“Quinn?” she managed to get out, as the flap fell away.

He was crouching in front of it, looking intently at her.

“Keep coughing,” he said, not smiling.

She nodded and did just that, unable to stop.

“It’s a good sign,” he said. “And you’ve got to get that grit and dust to come up.”

As the coughing fit subsided, she reached a hand up to her head.

“I’ve got a headache.”

“I didn’t want to wake you up to give you aspirin,” he said. “But taking some now would be good.”

He fished them out of his chest pocket and held them out to her.

“That was quite a bump on the head you took,” he said, as she swallowed the pills with some water.

“What happened?” she asked. “One minute everything was fine and then…”

“Sirocco,” he said.
 

“The desert wind. I’ve heard of it but…”

“It’s not normally like that,” he said, shaking his head. “Wind is hardly what you could call what happened yesterday. I’d say it was moving sixty miles an hour. It lasted the rest of the day and most of the night.” His gaze had drifted away as he’d remembered but he returned his eyes to hers. “You’re lucky you didn’t break anything.”

She smiled a little.

“Well that’s the good part of landing on my head. It’s the hardest thing about me.”

She’d expected him to smile at the joke but there was no reaction.

“We’ll have to pick up the trail of the Hunting Dog fresh,” he said.

No mention of what happened between them?

“Okay,” she said, feeling suddenly self-conscious as she pulled her shirt together in front of her.

He pointedly looked away.

“I’ve got tea and bread out here when you’re ready,” he said, letting the flap fall closed.

“Thanks,” she said, to no one.

• • • • •

Quinn glanced to his left at Lou.

She seemed to be okay and that was nothing short of a miracle.

Her hat and sunglasses might be in the Mediterranean Ocean at this point, swept away by the gale. She wore the bandana and squinted against the glare of the sun, after insisting he wear his own sunglasses. She’d escaped grit in her eyes or lungs, probably because she’d faced away from the wind but also because he’d found her quickly.

Quickly,
he chided himself.
I shouldn’t have had to find her at all.

They should never have been caught in the open.

He swept his eyes across the horizon and the ground and then stopped. Although the sirocco had swept away the old tracks, it made the new tracks stand out like neon signs. They’d already passed evidence for a snake, a scorpion, and even a jerboa. Although the print was only a partial on a hard-packed surface, it was definitely the Hunting Dog. And it had been made some time in the last few hours. He crouched down.

Lou stopped next to him.

He bent down low and sniffed the track.

The flinty smell of the rocky earth and something of the local vegetation reached his nose. He closed his eyes and concentrated. He parted his lips and inhaled deeply. There it was. The singular scent that he had committed to memory.

He opened his eyes, sat up, and nodded.

“That’s the pack I know,” he said, quietly.

She quickly removed the camera from where it was clipped to her pack and took a few photos of the print.

He checked the horizon, between the dip of the cone shaped peaks in the mid-distance. He vectored his hand in that direction with a chopping motion.

“Headed to the oasis,” he said. “Probably there right now.”

“I don’t understand,” Lou said. “If it’s just a matter of going to the oasis and waiting to see if it appears, why hasn’t it been spotted before now?”

He stood up.

“You don’t understand,” he said simply, not looking at her, “because you don’t think like a predator.”

He’d been about to explain.

“And you do,” she said.

He turned to her.

“I’d have thought that was obvious,” he said.

She opened her mouth as if to say something but then closed it.

A droplet of sweat trickled down the side of her face to the front of her throat and made a meandering path down into the notch of her blouse. He looked away.

“Most of the sightings take place where it hunts,” he said, nodding back the way they’d come. “From near the larger settlements at the big oases. That’s what Tamanrasset is, nothing more than a big oasis. The Hunting Dog picks off its prey from those kinds of settlements: goats, sheep, and lambs that get separated from the group. Once they find themselves alone with the predator, it’s over.” He reached for his water and took a sip. “In the beginning, the shepherds reported sightings. Now they take matters into their own hands. They kill the dog whenever they can. Try to protect their herds, their way of life.”

“You sound like you sympathize with them,” she said, her tone guarded.

“In a way, I do,” he said, putting the water away. “They’re predators too.”

“They’re the reason we’re out here trying to protect the Hunting Dog,” she retorted.

“Humans of all sorts are the reason we’re out here. Encroachment on their territory doesn’t just come from herders and poachers.”

She was quiet.

“The sirocco put us behind,” he said. “We need to get to that oasis. And not just for the Hunting Dog.”

• • • • •

Lou still couldn’t believe he’d sniffed the paw print.

As irritating as he could be, Quinn was still amazing–but suddenly distant.

Yesterday, he’d been all over her. Today, it was like they didn’t know each other. For the life of her, she didn’t understand him.
 

Men
.

They walked in silence as he did his usual thing of sweeping his gaze along the ground and then the horizon.

Poachers, she thought. They were in her WWF brief for the region. They were considered dangerous although Quinn had just made it sound like they were doing what came naturally. The report had made it sound like they’d as soon shoot a conservationist as say hello. As usual on these expeditions, it was the human element that made for danger. As menacing as animals could be, they were often predictable, their motives understandable. It was one of the reasons she preferred them.

And one of the reasons she’d preferred Quinn. She thought she’d understood him–straightforward and blunt to a fault. But clearly that wasn’t the case.

What was he thinking?

What had happened?

“What?” he said, looking at her.

“What?” she asked.

“You said something,” he said.

“Did I?”

She must have muttered out loud.

Okay, now that he was talking, she stopped and so did he.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

He stood there looking at her.

“Yesterday,” she continued. “We were all over each other and today it’s like you don’t know me. Was it something I said? Something I did? Something I didn’t do?”

He continued to look at her through the sunglasses as she squinted.

“Well what?” she said, hands out, exasperated.

“It’s not you,” he said. “It’s me.”

She laughed quietly but it wasn’t funny.
 

“Wow,” she said. “
That
line.” She shook her head. “That line’s usually mine.”

“I made a mistake yesterday,” he said.

“A mistake?” She took a half-step back. “Is that what you call it? A mistake?”

“That’s not what I meant. I–”

“I’m sorry I asked,” she said, holding up her hands. She quickly looked to the horizon. “Where is downwind?” she asked abruptly.

He cocked his head at her and pointed behind her.

“That way,” he said.

“Fine,” she said and nodded. “And where’s the oasis?”

“That way,” he said, jerking his thumb behind him. “But–”

“Fine,” she said, cutting him off and backing away. “Right between those domes of rock?”

He cocked his head yet again.

“Yes, right between those domes of rock.”

“Great,” she said. “I’ll meet you there.”

“What?”

“You go ahead,” she said. “I’m going to have a sip of water and I’ll follow behind, downwind, out of earshot, and whatever other sense you use.”

“Lou, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

She backed up another pace.

“I do,” she said, getting madder by the moment.

“Lou, just let me explain.”

“My super good hearing has heard all it needs,” she said.
 

He stared at her.

“Seriously,” she said, pointing toward the oasis. “I’ll meet you there. I won’t be far behind. I’d rather be alone right now.”

“Lou,” he tried again.

“We’re wasting time,” she said, glancing up at the sun and squinting. “You said so yourself. We’re behind.”

 
“We are,” he said, his voice rising. “And we don’t have time for this kind of nonsense.”

“Okay,” she said, through clenched teeth. “I’ve had enough. Either you start or I will but I’m not walking with you. Either you want me upwind or downwind and either you want to track the Hunting Dog or me.” She waited for half a second. “Fine,” she said and started toward the domed peaks.

Suddenly, he strode quickly by her.

She stopped and waited for him to take several paces.

He glanced back at her. She didn’t move and he didn’t slow down. In fact, he was setting a very fast pace.
 

Fine. Let him.
She was tired of being treated like she didn’t know what she was doing. She’d hit her head, not lost it.
 

The rocky terrain was still trending upward and the surface was becoming more uneven. Judging from the height of the two domes and the surrounding series of peaks, the oasis was going to lie not only between them but also below their present elevation, where water could be tapped.

She saw Quinn turn his head and glance at her.

She waved once.

He started to wave but apparently thought better of it and turned back. He had to be forty or fifty yards away at this point. That might be good enough. She started off.

• • • • •

Quinn couldn’t believe he was actually glad for the break. Only now did he realize that, ever since he’d met Lou at the airport, she’d been invading his senses. It’d been a miracle that he’d even remotely kept his head in the tracking game.

Yesterday had been a bad mistake but not in the way she thought. He’d taken his eye off the Sahara, the deadliest force he knew, and it had nearly cost their lives. She’d made light of the head injury but she’d been moving slower all day, though he hadn’t mentioned it. He knew if he did, she’d move faster, whether she was ready for it or not.

He glanced behind and she was finally starting after him–a tiny figure down the rocky incline, her pack almost as big as her. Why couldn’t she just understand that he was trying to make sure she was safe?

She was vexing–and captivating–especially when she was mad. In any other circumstance, in any other place, he’d have–

He stopped himself. She was right. They did need to walk apart.

• • • • •

After an hour or so, Lou was finally feeling calmer.

She took a sip of water as she walked.

Though she’d suggested walking apart in a fit of pique, it was actually making for a good change. At various points, as the uneven terrain rose and fell, she lost sight of Quinn. At first, she’d experienced a little panic. But when she got used to him always reappearing, she started not to notice. And for the first time, without him to distract her, she noticed the Sahara and the daunting peaks ahead of them.

After the sirocco, the sky had turned the most clear and sparkling sapphire color. The high cirrus clouds were sparse and there was actually a breeze that helped to keep her from overheating. Her head still hurt but the aspirin had taken the edge off. At least she felt rested.

The deep red of the volcanic rocks made it seem as though the sun had burnt them. But she knew from the WWF report that this entire region, virtually all of the peaks that she was seeing were the result of ancient volcanoes. These were the lava domes of a geological time some millions of years in the past whose outer coverings of dirt and loose basalt had long ago been weathered away.

She couldn’t wait to see what the oasis might look like. Though Quinn had said Tamanrasset was an oasis town, she must have missed that part on their departure from the airport. Then again, they’d just met and she’d probably missed a lot. It was ironic really. Trying to keep her eyes off him and yet still thinking of him had made her miss as much of the landscape as staring at him. Still carrying the camera in her hand, she paused and took a few photos.

She shook her head and glanced back to Quinn. He had disappeared again. She looked up to the two almost perfect domes that were growing larger. Any second now, right between them, his head would pop up from whatever low spot he was walking through. Rather than wait and see, she looked left, toward the expansive spread of the Sahara, and raised the camera.
 

Just then, she heard something behind her. She stopped and was about to turn when she felt something collide with the side of her head. There wasn’t even time to feel pain as the ground rushed up to meet her.

Quinn took a deep breath. The air was so clean. The light breeze was clarifying. He stretched his arms out as though he were waking from a sleep and looked up ahead to the nearby peaks. The oasis was only a few hours away. There’d be no need to make a midday stop.

Unless Lou needed one.

He grimaced.
 

He needed to explain to her but he wasn’t sure he’d get the chance.

He glanced back but didn’t see her.
 

As the terrain became rougher, that was to be expected. There were only a few more small valleys before the final dip of the oasis. On the ground, the presence of the pack that he’d been monitoring for the last four months had become more apparent. A few stray hairs were even in evidence, vivid in how the white and black of them stood out against the red rock. The breeze had blown them in from the west, where the pack had likely been hunting earlier. Tiny, ephemeral traces that less experienced trackers might have missed. Thinking back to four months ago, though, this had been his first clue. The long hairs of the coat and tail were unlike any of the other high-level predators in the area. Though the cheetah was larger, its hairs were shorter.