Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 38855 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38855 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
“Argggg!” I shake my head, running my hands through my hair as I try to get a grip.
The spear of lust throbs down low, making it hard to think. I’ve never felt anything like this. Sure, I had a couple dates in high school. But I was never the popular girl, didn’t involve myself much in the Thunderdome of high school society.
Instead, I got straight A’s. Took as many art classes as they’d allow. I played clarinet. Did marching band.
Combine it all with my penchant for baggy pants and vintage sci-fi t-shirts, I landed solidly in the invisible nerd category. And honestly, the invisible part worked for me. Even now, I just sort of want to be left alone.
So, when the hulk in the bar’s vibe hit me directly in my girl parts, fear and arousal went to battle. Fear won out and I bolted, but the feelings that bubbled up in the short time I was near him seem to have only grown.
As much as logic says otherwise, I know this is something. I may never see him again...and that thought leaves me cold, even as the fire blazes in front of me. The warmth of the day is still on the air, but I hug myself, looking at my makeshift home here in the woods, then up at the sky for a sign.
Any sign.
I’m exhausted. Sleep has eluded me for a year or more. I’ve snatched what I can get, grateful for an hour, sometimes two. Since I’ve been here, the weight of the loss of my mother hasn’t gotten any worse, but it hasn’t eased either. Add to that I have no place to call home. No family left, and I get these moments of panic, the unknown gripping around my throat as it is now with the early evening sunlight streaming through the trees.
Lowering my eyes, I dig at the dirt with the heel of my boot and listen to the birds, the loud silence of the forest, my heartbeat thudding in my ears. I close my eyes and let the breeze and tingling sensations move through and over me. I still feel a little drunk, but it’s not the beer anymore. I know, because my nipples are turning hard against the cotton fabric of my t-shirt, and it’s not that cold yet.
An hour later, I’ve dug a hole the size of a basketball with the heel of my boot, and my rear end is aching again. I press up on the boulder, stretching both hands to the sky and walk toward the tree line. I search in the brush until I find a smallish sized downed pine, dragging it back to turn it into logs with the handheld camping saw I bought needing a distraction.
I’m huffing when I finally drop it about ten feet from the tent. The light is dim, outlines show in my vision more than colors now, and my ears prick when I hear a crunching sound coming from my left beyond the line of trees.
I steady my breath, stepping backwards to where my rifle is leaning against a stump just outside the opening of the tent, and slip my hands into place as I strain to see movement in the direction of the sound.
On a slow exhale, I center the butt of the rifle to my shoulder, squinting one eye and centering the other on the scope, then raise my head again to take in the tree line.
More crunching.
The crack of a branch.
Sounds loud. Something big. Not a deer. Or a coyote.
My pulse throbs in my neck as heat covers me.
There’s a new rhythm to the movement. There are steps.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
They are close together, slow but steady, and my heart races, making it difficult to breathe.
I know enough to not keep my food near camp. But I also know, my own scent could draw predators. A bear’s sense of smell is one of the most developed, rivaling that of a shark.
There are no grizzlies around here, but black and brown bears aren’t rare.
There’s a low growl from the opposite direction of the foot falls, and I spin, aiming as the shadow of a massive, bigfoot-sized figure steps out from the tree line and my finger tightens on the trigger.
“I’ll put a bullet between your eyes and one through your heart before you take another step.” I keep my voice steady, loud enough that there is no hesitation in my words, as the fading daylight streaks through the trees from behind, it lights on his face and that warring hot and cold sensation ignites again racing up from my feet to the top of my head.
The figure raises his hands, taking another step forward before planting his feet shoulder width apart, his glowing gray eyes locking on mine.
“I’m not here to hurt you. Don’t be scared.”