The speaker appeared to the left of them. Right out of nowhere. Must’ve been walking through the trees, caught sight of us and then side-stepped out onto the path.
More like they knew we were here and were coming to get us the whole time.
How could they? We haven’t even reached them yet.
The guy leered at the two girls. He was drunk and it showed. His chunky red face creased into an idiot smile as he sized them up. He waved a can of beer in his left hand. A hunting rifle hung loosely in the other. He wore a red check shirt gaping open, one side tucked into blue jean pants. The other side hung down his thigh.
Thick, black hair covered his barrel chest.
Shit-faced, Bonnie muttered to herself.
A hootnanny hillbilly, straight out of Deliverance.
The guy’s unsteady legs were thrust into tan cowboy boots.
He’d appeared on the path, suddenly, out of the patch of pines. The girls gasped as they saw how near to them he really was. About five yards away and weaving in their direction all the time.
Answering shouts and a couple of disbelieving grunts came from the goon’s buddies.
“You’re shitting us, right?”
“Get your backsides on over here and find out!”
One shouted back that he’d be along when he’d had a pee.
Bonnie grabbed Andrea’s arm.
“Okay, let’s run for it!”
“You bet ...”
Mashing their hats well down onto their heads, they turned tail and ran back past the pines and onward down the grass track. Their packs pounded their backs like lumpy lead weights.
Dead Mule Pass, bere me come!
“Hey, come on back here, now ... We won’t hurt you none. Jest want to be friendly like. Come on back, y’hear?”
The thick voice taunted them over the rapidly growing distance Then, in a sing-song voice that sounded loud and close, “Don’t know what you’re missin’!”
He was on them.
Right behind and closing in.
Must be one of those gun-happy, bit cat killers with nothing better to do, Bonnie thought in disgust. Probably a whole bunch of them back there. Trackin’ down mountain lions, drinkin’ themselves shit-faced first, to get their courage up.
The girls stumbled over the rough grass, regained their footing and picked up speed again.
But the guy was still close enough for them to hear him grunting for breath as he chugged along.
Must be fit. I’ll give him that, Bonnie marveled. Must’ve flown down that track ...
A gunshot cracked overhead.
Then, “Christ Jesus! Aawwgg .”
Bonnie paused and looked back.
Their tormentor lay sprawled headlong on the track.
She saw him wave a fist in their direction, his red, swollen face mouthing obscenities.
She hurried along after Andrea.
The girls got away while the going was good. They reached the rock they’d been sitting on earlier and took the trail to Dead Mule Pass. Andrea seemed to have forgotten her objection to this particular route. They pounded along for a while, then slowed up slightly, figuring they’d cleared enough distance between themselves and the guys on the ridge to make a clean getaway.
Even so, they decided it was better not to linger.
They strode steadily down the track for some twenty minutes before Andrea spoke. She was almost breathless and her words huffed from her lips in short bursts.
“That was a narrow miss ... Couldn’t take anymore hassle from rampant males. Had enough of them to last me a lifetime ... Men are such chauvinistic PIGS. Thinking that every woman is fair game. AND, that no problem at all, women are just standing around WAITING for them to get into their knickers ... God, they’re such SHTT-heads!”
Bonnie slowed down to catch breath. She smiled philosophically.
“Yeah. Carried on past those guys and we’d have been dead meat for sure.”
“Bonnie ...”
“What is it?”
Silence.
Bonnie waited for her to say her piece.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry..” Andrea muttered, shame-faced. “I never get things right, do I?”
“Go on! You’re not doing too badly. You’re a bit of a girl, is all.” Bonnie humped her pack more comfortably on her back and turned to smile at Andrea.
Relieved that their earlier tension seemed to have gone, Andrea responded eagerly. A nice warm feeling passed between them.
Thirty minutes farther down the trail they called a halt.
They were parched and badly needed a reviving sip of water—co! d would have been nice, but they were more than ready to settle for warm. Twisting out of their packs, they dumped them onto the grass and flung themselves down alongside.
Eventually, their breathing became easier, more measured. Lying there together, in silence, they relaxed. The herby fragrance of the warm grass beneath them felt good. Through half-closed eyes they watched the cloudless sky overhead and listened to the distant stream, tumbling and gurgling through the rocks.
The sound reminded them that they hadn’t taken that drink yet. Hadn’t had one since they broke camp this morning. Struggling to a sitting position, they unfastened their packs and brought out their water bottles. Taking long, leisurely swigs, their tension drifted away and they felt, for the first time in hours—days, it seemed—that danger was now way behind them. Andrea yawned and they both stretched out again on the warm, rough grass It smelled sweet and clean.
“Sure you don’t mind coming along this route, after all? In spite of your premonition?” Bonnie asked, chewing on a stalk of grass. “No option, y’know. With those creeps blocking our path.”
“I probably got it wrong way around in the first place,” Andrea replied cheerfully. “My premonition could’ve been warning me against taking the lonesome pine route, not this one. Could’ve misinterpreted the message. In which case, looks like everything’s turned out okay!”
“And what about Rick? Still lusting after him?”
“Goddamn it, Bonnie. Gimme a break. I’m sorry I made a fool of myself, believe me. But Rick’s history. He’s no dif ferent than the rest ... Really.”
She found Bonnie’s hand and gave it a squeeze.
“Could be,” Bonnie murmured, hardly daring to believe the way things were going. “Anyway, don’t you dare say sorry again ...”
Leaning up on her right elbow, Andrea turned to face her. Looking deep into Bonnie’s eyes, she leaned over a little and kissed her gently on the lips.
Then on her cheeks, her forehead, and, as Bonnie closed her eyes, Andrea touched her lids, gently, with her lips. Then her mouth again. She was more demanding this time.
With a faint gasp of delight, Bonnie twisted quickly and came on top of her. Then, shifting her weight off Andrea, she leaned away and lifted up the soft gray T-shirt. She sighed when she saw Andrea’s small, perfectly formed breasts. They were smooth shiny mounds, the color of milky coffee. Her nipples, exposed to the warm, balmy air, grew hard and pert as she looked at them.
Bonnie drew away from Andrea and lay, head resting on one arm, looking at her.
No need for words.
They were together now. That’s all that mattered. Wasn’t this what their vacation had been about? Finding each other?
They’d found each other all right.
Now, all they wanted was to get away from this place ... return to Santa Cruz and get on with their lives. Together.
Bonnie felt the joy grow inside her, it blossomed until she could contain it no longer. Their eyes met, lingered and finally drew apart.