Part 10 (2/2)

Because the night that descended upon him then was not city-night, not twinkly-lights-in-the-distance night or even creepy-don't-go-down-that-back-alley night, where the shadows skulked and huddled in corners and between street lamps.

This was nature's own mother night, and her dominion was complete. Syd couldn't see his hand in front of his face, his feet on the ground, or the way back to the car. He felt suddenly helpless, trapped. He probed around with his left foot, took a testing baby step forward. His leg snagged a fallen branch, then b.u.mped painfully against a rotten stump. His eyes bugged wide, cones and rods screaming.

He stopped, let his sight adjust until he could make out shapes, vague silhouettes. It was still horrible. He blundered forth, hands clutching blindly, calling out her name.

”Nora!” he whispered. ”Nora, dammit, where are you?”

”I'm right beside you.”

Syd spun; squinting, surprised. One of the shadows moved, and Nora's form became faintly visible: leaning against a pine, an arm's length away.

”Jesus!” he hissed. ”Don't do that!”

”Why are you whispering?”

”What? Oh . . .” He caught himself. ”Nora, quit f.u.c.king around. The lights just went out on the car.”

”I know,” she said. ”I turned them off.”

”You did what . . . ?” Syd stopped, stymied, wondering how she had doubled back and then found him again so quickly. He couldn't see her face, but there was no mistaking the amus.e.m.e.nt in her voice. He reached out to her, a blind man reading flesh Braille. ”Let's just get out of here . . .”

”Why?” she replied. ”What's the rush?”

He started to say something else, but she just kissed him again, effectively silencing his objections. Her mouth was a warm sanctuary; Syd felt his senses unconsciously focus around it. He touched her face, then slid down her neck to her shoulders. When he felt the bare skin of her back, Syd stopped, shocked. She was topless.

”Jesus!” he gasped. ”What the f.u.c.k are you doing?”

Nora just laughed, pulled him close. As she did he realized that she was not just topless, she was completely stripped, bare-a.s.s naked in the middle of the pitch-black woods. Her flesh was taut; her nipples stiff, yearning. She nuzzled him; as she did her fingers snaked inside his jacket, began unb.u.t.toning his s.h.i.+rt. Industrious little creatures, working overtime.

”Take this off,” she ordered.

”I don't want to,” he said, puffing her fingers away. She kissed him again, and Syd felt his resistance crumble. Nora pressed against the rising bulge in his pants, squeezed. The thought of one more beer seemed suddenly irrelevant, unnecessary.

”You don't need another beer,” she whispered, as if reading his mind. She kissed him again. ”I know what you need.”

”What,” he countered sarcastically, ”to screw out in the woods?”

”Maybe,” she said, meeting him, att.i.tude for att.i.tude. ”If you wanna be with me you better learn to expect the unexpected. Know what I mean?” Syd paused, then nodded.

”Good.”

Nora started to peel his jacket off; Syd hovered on the threshold of abandon, then shrugged, let her. ”Anybody ever tell you you're out of your mind?” he said.

”All the time.” She peeled his s.h.i.+rt off, let it drop. ”Constantly.” She dropped down, pulled his boots and socks off, then unhitched his jeans and tugged them down. As he stepped out of them she came up, grabbed his wrist and unsnapped his watch, tossing it on the pile.

At last Syd stood before her, utterly naked. ”That's more like it,” she said. ”Now, relax. Breathe. Feel the night.”

Nora wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tight. Her body was a furnace, radiating heat and pa.s.sion; her hair was wild and tangled, smoke-scented. Syd began to s.h.i.+ver, as much from excitement as from the frigid air. His teeth chattered. Nora began to ma.s.sage him, her fingers tracing patterns across the surface of his skin.

”You've got so much bound up inside,” she said softly. ”It's keeping you trapped. There's a whole world around you that you're not even seeing, Syd,” she said softly.

”You need to see it.”

She kissed him again, punctuating the message. Nora reached down, came up with a small gla.s.s vial. ”What's that?” he asked.

”Trust me,” she said.

She uncapped it, poured a dollop of dark liquid onto his chest. Syd was instantly struck by the thick, sharp aroma of scented oil. It was at once bittersweet, earthy and biting, like chlorophyll with teeth. ”This'll warm you up,” she said.

She was right about that: as it touched him, Syd felt his skin flush, tingling. She chased the rivulets down his belly with her forgers, smearing it on his torso, across his throat, down to his groin. It burned there, in glaring contrast to the night and Syd gasped, felt his p.e.n.i.s burgeon, throbbing. She poured some onto the crown of his head, and his brain started broadcasting test patterns.

She dropped the vial then and began rubbing against him, and Syd felt their flesh merge, her heat transferring to him. The smell of Nora mingled with the oil, became one swirling sensation. It filled his nostrils, dizzying. His head felt feather-light, his inner ear rumbling with the sound of his own roaring blood . . .

. . . and for the second time in as many nights he felt that sudden rush of acute clarity: a fierce, almost cellular awareness of her presence, the astonis.h.i.+ng sensitivity she aroused in him. The awareness extended to his surroundings: as he gazed out into the night the forest took on added dimensions, his vision perceiving newly-visible layers upon layers of shadow, etched in purple and blue-gray and black. The cold felt suddenly bracing, exciting.

Nora stopped then, looked off into the foliage. ”C'mon,” she whispered. She took his hand, started to move away from the tree. Syd stiffened, suddenly reluctant. s.e.x was one thing; naked with her like this, he could be anywhere, they could be humping on the White House lawn and he wouldn't care. But wandering through the woods . . .

”Where are we going?” he asked, tightening up again.

”Out there,” she said simply.

”What about our clothes?”

”What about 'em?” she replied. ”They ain't going anywhere.”

”But we can't just run around naked.”

”Yeah?” she said. ”Why not?”

”What if someone comes?”

”Yeah, boy, that would be terrible,” she chided, then clucked her tongue reprovingly. ”That's some wild streak you got there, Syd.”

Nora broke contact then, stepped away; as Syd watched she melded into the shadows, her silhouette blue-lit, ethereal. His clothing lay heaped beside him, a freshly shed skin. He looked at her, playful and wanton, and more than anything in the world he wanted to have her, right there, on the ground, now.

”You'll have to catch me first,” she said, reading his mind.

Syd pushed off from the tree, moving toward her. Nora darted out of reach, surprisingly nimble and quick. Syd took two steps forward, immediately landed his bare foot on a bramble.

”s.h.i.+t!” he yelped. He stumbled back, hopping, and his other foot stomped on a small round stone. ”Ow! f.u.c.k!”

He lurched to the side, impaled his a.s.s on a sharp stick and toppled backward, landing flat on his can in the dirt. ”G.o.dDAMMIT!”

Laughter rang out from the darkness.

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