Page 56 of Waves of Fury

“What are you thinking?” Dan asks, frowning. “Flesh-eating bacteria?”

“It’s possible,” I state, remembering a documentary I once watched. The effects on the humans were disturbing. “Better to be safe than sorry.”

Elise, now sniffling, rubs her hands together. “It just keeps getting from bad to worse, doesn’t it? God, it’s so cold. We’ll probably all lose our fingers from frostbite next. I knew I should have grabbed some gloves.”

Kyle sneers at her and shakes his head like her very presence disgusts him. I usher her onto the road and in the eastward direction we’re headed. Soon, everyone is back on track, our boots making soft thudding sounds on the asphalt. Thankfully, we don’t encounter any more animals.

“It’s getting colder,” Tyler says, voice low so it doesn’t carry. “This has been the longest fucking day.”

It’s been the longest week.

I keep expecting to wake up from this nightmarish reality.

Wishful thinking.

Clouds, scattered at first, dance their way over the moon, making our trek impossibly dark. We’re forced to use our flashlights again. The road curves and winds, completely surrounded by trees. There’s nothing to see. No rest stops or gas stations or stores.

Just trees, more trees, round the bend and yep, more trees.

This goes on for a couple of hours or so. While we all started out eagerly traipsing down the road when we got past the dying deer, now we’ve all slowed down. Everyone is dragging their feet and yawning. Silas starts to cry and begs for his dad to carry him.

“I can’t feel my hands,” Elise gripes, her voice carrying all the way from the front of the group to where we are in the back. “We’re going to die on this road.”

Though I know we all feel the same, I can’t let everyone fall into that line of thinking. They’ll give up and we’ve got too far to go to give up.

“We’ll stop soon,” I assure her. “As soon as we find a place suitable to camp.”

She makes a huff of displeasure but doesn’t argue. Once we’re back on our way, Tyler nudges me with his shoulder.

“When we stop, want to share a tent?” He looks over at me and then laughs at my lifted brow. “What? You’re warm. I’m not trying to get fresh with you.”

At this, I smirk. “Sure, man, sure.”

He elbows me and I grin at him. This earns me a bright smile in return. My first instinct is to shy away from the idea of sharing a tent with this good-looking younger man because my employees and the others in my group will be witnesses to it. But the more time I spend with Tyler, the more I realize I don’t give a damn.

Life, apparently, is too short.

You have to take all the pleasure in it while you can.

Sharing a tent would be an absolute pleasure, too. Would we just hold each other? Would we play tic-tac-toe? Or would we do more?

Kiss. Touch. Put our mouths all over each other.

I thicken uncomfortably in my pants. Now’s not the time to think about having sex with Tyler. Hell, later, in the tent really isn’t the time either. Surviving this shit show should be my primary focus.

And yet…

I can’t help but wonder what sort of bedroom antics he likes. He’s younger and slightly smaller than me, but that doesn’t necessarily make us compatible in bed. Maybe he likes to top. And I’m no bottom. This attraction could be snuffed out as soon as we zip up our tent and act on it.

Then what?

Will things be awkward?

Will he leave my side to stand by his brothers?

I hate the roiling in my gut at that thought. I’ve become attached to Tyler as if I’ve known him my whole life, not just for a matter of days. Allowing distance to be put between us over something as silly as sexual positions sounds like torture.

There will definitely be no sex happening.

---