Tread Softly

again into her eyes. He reached under her outstretched arm, lay his hand against her back, and eased her closer. His other arm went around her. He turned her some more. Julie felt herself start to tip. Nick's eyes widened with alarm. Then he was flat on his back, still holding her. She lay across his chest. 'Woops,' she said.

For a moment, he looked as if he might laugh. Then his face went serious. 'Julie,' he whispered.

She kissed him gently, briefly on the mouth. 'We'd better get back in the lake,' she whispered.

'Yeah,' he said. But when Julie tried to push herself up, he held onto her. 'One more?'

'One more.'

This time, his hand went behind her head. His fingers thrust into her hair and he pressed her close, kissing her again and again, his lips firm and warm and urgent, as if he had needed to kiss her for a long time and feared he would never get another chance.

Julie mashed her lips against his. She wanted it never to end, but there were those in the lake who might see them. So she turned her face. Nick kissed her cheek, her ear. 'We've gotta stop,' she gasped.

'Okay.' His hand slid out of her hair.

She raised her head. Nick's face was beaded with sweat, his eyes somewhat vague, as if he were in a daze.

'Well,' she said.

'Yeah.' His arms fell away from her.

She pushed herself up. Nick lay spread-eagled at her knees, his skin glossy with water and sweat, his chest heaving. His damp, clinging shorts bulged as if he'd slid a length of pipe down the front. A thick pipe. A long one. If it were any bigger, Julie thought, it would push right up under the elastic waistband and.

'Take a picture,' he said. 'It lasts longer.'

Julie grinned down at him. Nick grinned up at her.

'Come on,' she said. 'Let's go swimming.'

Chapter Eighteen

I gotta pee, Ettie. Let me go out. I won't do nothing.'

She shook her head. 'Any business you got, you just do it right here. You can't go out till they're gone.'

'How you know they're still here?'

'Folks don't put their tents up and move on in an hour. They're staying the night. And you're staying right where you are.'

'I gotta pee,' he whined.

'Use a pot.'

'You're here.'

'Hon, you got nothing I ain't seen before. I'm the gal used to change your diapers.'

'Let me go out. Please.'

Ettie pushed herself away from the gap in the wall, crawled forward to the candle between their sleeping bags, and blew it out. The cave went black. 'There. Now you don't gotta be shy.' She backed up quickly to block the opening. 'Go on ahead, Merle.'

Though her eyes were open, she could see nothing. She heard him sigh, then the soft hiss of fabric as he made his way along the sleeping bag. A match snicked and flared. Merle, kneeling at the far end of the chamber, was tossing around clothes and plastic packs of food to get at the cooking utensils. With a scrape and clatter, he pulled out a small saucepan. He waved it. 'This okay?'

'Just fine,' Ettie said.

He shook out his match.

'I'll dump it when you're done.'

'You said we have to stay here.'

'I can go out. You're the one goes around offering folks down for no good reason.'

'He told me to.'

'Horseshit.' She heard Merle's zipper slide down. 'Careful you don't miss,' she said. 'Hold it up good and close.'

'Don't know why I can't go out,' he muttered as his stream started hitting the aluminum. 'I wouldn't do nothing. You just don't trust me, that's all. I'd leave 'em alone.' He was talking fast, as if trying to cover the other sound. 'I just wanta see 'em, that's all. What'm I gonna try with three men down there? Think I'm a fool? Don't see why we can't both go out, and you keep an eye on me if you think I'm so crazy. I just wanta see 'em, that's all.' The splashing stopped.

Ettie waited until she heard his zipper, then crawled forward and lit the candle. Merle scowled at her as she picked up the pan. 'I'll be right outside,' she said. 'You just stay put, you hear?'

'Yes, ma'am,' he mumbled.

She backed away on her knees, then got to her feet and squeezed through the crevice, the back of her thick parka whispering against the rock. Outside, she crouched low to empty the pan. She set it down and stood up straight, stretching her stiff muscles.

In spite of the cold wind blowing through her dress, Ettie was glad to be out of the cave. She pushed her hands into the pockets of her parka, and leaned back to block the narrow entrance.

The night was very dark, as if a heavy blanket had been spread across the sky to hide the moon and stars. The only light came from the campfire down by the lake. It fluttered, yellow-orange, and cast a glowing aura that shimmered on the campers seated at its far side. Those on the near side of the fire were black silhouettes.

Staring at them, Ettie felt herself knot up inside. She groaned, and pushed her fists against her belly. If the blood signs had been right. Maybe she'd read them wrong. She could've missed something, reading them by match light.

They showed Merle dead. They showed her dead. Killed by some of the folks sitting down there so peacefully around the campfire.

These things are never certain, though. Even if you read the signs right, there's always a little room for doubt, so you take precautions and don't give up hope. If it weren't for that, there'd be no point in hiding away.

Always a chance, at least, that things won't turn out the way the blood signs say. A small chance.

She might go ahead and try throwing a spell to shield her and Merle. She'd given a lot of thought to that, while waiting in the cave, but it hadn't seemed too practical. She was sure the Master sent these folks as punishment, so He wouldn't let her magic work anyway. But what if He didn't send them? He did give a warning in the blood signs. Why warn her if he meant the folks to kill them? Just to torment her?

Maybe they weren't out of favor after all, and a spell would do the trick. Sure worth a try.

Ettie picked up the saucepan. She turned it over and gave it a few hard shakes. Then, with a last look at the figures huddled around the distant fire, she entered the crevice. She sidestepped, squeezing through the tight gap. 'Merle,' she said, 'we're gonna cast a Spell of Obscurity over us.' He didn't answer.

She was near the chamber now and expected to see a fluttering glow of candlelight. The area ahead was black. 'Merle, what happened to the candle?' He still didn't answer. Ettie's heart started thudding.

'You answer me, Merle. None of your foolishness.'

The walls no longer pressed against her. She tossed the pan forward. It landed with a soft whup on one of the sleeping bags. Her hands free, she dug into a pocket and pulled out a book of matches. Her left ankle was grabbed and jerked sideways. She pitched forward, falling through the darkness. Her parka and a sleeping bag cushioned her impact. As she started to rise, a body dropped onto her back and drove her down. 'Merle!' Cold fingers dug into the sides of her neck, squeezed. 'No!' she cried out.

She reached up, clutched the wrists, struggled to tear the hands away. Merle was too strong. Her ears were ringing. The blackness in front of her eyes glowed red.

Later, she woke up.

Her head was throbbing with pain. She was lying on her side. When she tried to move, Ettie realized that