He gave the bottle to Julie and she drank. “Nasty out there,” she said.
“I knew this was a bad place to stay.”
“I wasn’t too happy about it myself, but we didn’t have much choice. We would’ve had to go over another pass to get out of here.”
“I wish we had’ve.” Rick accepted the bottle, took another swallow, and handed it back. His cheeks felt a little numb and there was a mild, pleasant fogginess inside his head.
Though the wind still howled and shook the tent, it soon stopped bothering Rick. It was outside and couldn’t get in, couldn’t hurt them. In here, talking with Julie and sharing the bottle, his worries slid away. He even found himself feeling glad that he’d broken his leg; otherwise, he wouldn’t be here with her. Dad would be here instead, and Rick would be off alone in the other tent.
“When I get older,” he said, “I hope I get to marry someone like you.”
She smiled. “The booze must be getting to you.”
“No, I mean it. Honest. You’re really neat. For a mother,” he added, just so she wouldn’t get the wrong idea.
“You’re pretty neat yourself. Even if you don’t clean up your room.” After capping the bottle, she placed it near the head of the tent and said, “We don’t want hangovers in the morning. You think you’ll be able to sleep now?”
“Maybe.”
She took her parka and rolled it up. “Any more problems, just wake me up.” She leaned forward and kissed him gently on the mouth. “Sleep tight,” she said.
Rick settled down into his bag. He watched Julie reach up to turn off the lantern. A side of her T-shirt rose, showing a wedge of bare skin. He saw the way her nipples made the fabric jut. He felt a warm, heavy stirring in his groin.
The light went out. He closed his eyes. His mind held the picture of Julie reaching up toward the lantern. He knew he should feel guilty, but he didn’t. He felt only languid and peaceful and pleasantly aroused. Soon, he fell asleep.
The next day, the men came.
There were two of them.
Rick was in his swimming trunks and wearing no shirt. He had just finished soaking his leg in the frigid lake. Julie, crouched in front of him, was using belts to strap the splints to his shin. She had made the splints yesterday, soon after Dad’s departure, by chopping a length of dead branch into a pair of thin slats and padding each of them with one of Rick’s undershirts.
Rick didn’t hear the men coming. Suddenly, they just appeared among the trees behind the tent. He flinched. Julie looked up at him. “Someone’s here,” he said.
Julie made a final adjustment to the bindings, then stood and turned around.
“Morning,” one of the men said in a cheerful voice. He and his friend came forward. He had a thick, shoulder-high walking stick. He wore a faded Dodger cap with sweaty blond hair sticking out like spikes around its edges. He wore sunglasses with silver lenses that hid his eyes. He looked as if he hadn’t shaved for a couple of days. The sleeves of his filthy, plaid shirt had been cut off at the shoulders. A big sheath knife hung from the belt of his jeans.
His friend looked a couple of years younger, maybe eighteen. He was shorter and heavier, but not fat. His T- shirt bulged with muscles and was cut off just below his ribcage. For a hat, he wore an army helmet liner. Around his waist was a wide web belt with a canteen hanging at one side and a knife at the other. He wore plaid Bermuda shorts. He looked slightly ridiculous, but Rick didn’t feel like smiling.
“You got some trouble there?” asked the thin one.
“My son broke his leg yesterday.”
“Bad place for a thing like that.”
With the help of a crutch Julie had made for him after preparing the splints, Rick pushed himself up. He stood beside Julie, most of his weight on his right leg, using the crutch for balance.
“We’re getting along okay,” Julie said. “Did you come down from Windover Pass?” she asked.
“Nope. Heading that way. Mind if we rest up for a minute?”
“Help yourselves.”
They lowered their backpacks to the ground, but didn’t sit down. “Nice camp,” the lean one said. “Just the two of you?”
“My husband’s around here someplace,” Julie said. She looked off toward the outcroppings beyond Rick’s tent. “Dave?” she called.
Rick, already concerned by the presence of the two men, was frightened by Julie’s lie.
“I’m sure he’ll be along in a minute. He just went after some firewood.”
“Right.” The lean man turned to his friend. “Dave went after firewood. How many packs you see?”
The stocky one smiled. “Just two. I’ll just bet Dave hiked out to get help for the kid.”
Rick felt as if his lungs were caving in. He swayed on his one leg and crutch.
It’s okay, he told himself. They’re jerks, but nothing’s going to happen.
Julie shook her head. In a voice that sounded calm, she said, “My brother-in-law hiked out. Dave’s just over —”
“Hey Dave!” the heavy one yelled. “Yoo-hoo, Daaavy! Where arrre you?” He shrugged. “Gosh, Jiff, I don’t know where he could be.”
Jiff, grinning, took a step toward Julie.
Julie’s back stiffened. “Now don’t ...”
He barely moved, just reached his left hand across to the walking stick by his right leg and rammed it upward with both hands. The point caught Julie under the chin. Her head snapped back. Her arms flew up. She was still falling when Jiff pivoted and swung the staff at Rick. It smashed him above the ear.
There was a terrible, roaring pain in his head. He thought, I shouldn’t have drunk so much booze last night. If this is what it means to have a hangover ... Groaning, he opened his eyes.
He wasn’t in the tent. Above him, the leaves of trees were shivering in the wind. He lifted his head off the ground, felt himself spinning, and twisted onto his side. The sudden motion shot pain through his head and leg. Vomit erupted out of him.
Good thing I’m
When he was done vomiting, he wiped his teary eyes. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, blew his nose, and cleaned his mouth and chin. Then he sat up.
He saw Julie naked on the ground.
He remembered.
The men!
He looked around quickly, making his head whirl. The men seemed to be gone.
“Julie!” he yelled.
She didn’t move. She was sprawled on her back a few yards away. She still had her knee socks on. And one shoe. Her blouse lay in a heap near her head. Her shorts were on the ground dose to the shoe that was off.
Don’t look at her, Rick warned himself. She’s naked. God, naked. You might get turned on, and if you hadn’t been looking at her yesterday, trying to see up her shorts ...
As sick as he felt, and as guilty and frightened, he realized there was little need to worry about becoming aroused.
From where he sat, Rick didn’t see any blood on her. But she didn’t look right.
“Julie?” he asked again.
She’s just out cold, he told himself. Like I was. That’s good. Maybe she’d been unconscious while the men did things to her. They
When she woke up, she would know.
It’ll be all right, Rick thought. I’ll take good care of her. I’ll cover her first. That’s the first thing I’ll do, so I won’t keep looking at her.
Cringing as the pains in his head and leg punished him with burning throbs, he thrust himself up with his crutch. Another wave of dizziness came. He swayed, barely staying up as the ground tipped and turned. When the
