02 July 2009

Whiskey dreams

Jake and Sam don't wanna move. The stream, the Sun, their new found appreciation for each other combine in an intoxicating mixture. The joy they're feeling is almost too good. Jake playfully grabs at Sam, tickling him relentlessly for a moment. Sam responds by attacking back. The feelings of playful affection have a new edge to them. Something new and forbidden intensifies the feelings of joy mixed with something else. It's uncontrollable, this feeling. Sam knows others would judge them calling it wrong. He simply can't stop himself from remembering things he'd thought about and dismissed in the past. His body responds in memory of the things always left unsaid and anticipation of things that are, and will be. He grasps at Jakes hand, but to no avail,in a half hearted attempt to gain an advantage. Jake responds by taking control and nailing him to the streambed pinning him down on his back with his own weight. Sams own excitement obvious to them both Jake decides it's time for an other round. Where is this energy coming from? he wonders. Neither of them got much sleep last night. Sam looks into his eyes in curious wonder. A million and a half thoughts in his mind; desire to continue naked in his eyes.
Suddenly things just aren't right. A crashing noise as a fawn breaks through the brush upstream shatters their perfect world in an instant. The hair on Sams arms stands at attention. For no reason whatsoever Sam is terrified. Something primal causes him to pause, a single finger to Jakes lips. The unspoken demand for silence palpable between them. Fight or flight is demanding that he decide, though he's unsure why, or what's causing it. The skin on the back of his neck prickles through him into Jake, they feel eyes upon them, though from where they can't tell. Suddenly from beside them their dread is confirmed to have a reason.
"Well, what d'ya reckon we've got here lads?" demands a loud and cruel voice. "Looks like we've caught a couple of girls frolickin idn't it boys?"
The look of fright frozen on Jakes face forces Sam to look in that direction reluctantly. The sight before his eyes sends even more chills up his spine. He shudders involuntarily while looking into an sadistic pair of ice blue eyes.... and an other... and an other... and an other. The last pair was brown not blue, but every bit as drunk, and evil, and mean. "I told ya we'd find somethin to do out here boys" the one who'd spoken before almost crowed with glee. Grinning lopsidedly he takes a pull off the bottle before handing it to one of the others. Looking like something out of a nightmare there stands before them these four. They probably would get on just fine with in a different time and place. Sam quickly glances from one pair of eyes to an other in a futile attempt to find some kind of aquittal. Thing is he's not finding it. They're all trashed, too far gone to really have any kind of sense. A feeling of dread prickles hot all over his skin as his heart misses about twenty three beats. Nausea overwhelms him for the realization that they can't possibly get away in time. He could maybe make it, or maybe Jake, but no way would they both get away. Fear of things that hadn't even begun turned the warm water in the stream to ice. Moving faster than any drunk should suddenly the two of them are being pulled dripping wet out of the stream. Sam is suddenly overwhelmed by the smell of cheap whiskey wafting off the breath of the face that's suddenly much too close for any sort of comfort. "Alright girls, looks like we're gonna join your little party!" slurs the voice, behind him now. He's being held from behind and can't see Jake. But he can hear him threatening them, then suddenly there's the thud of a fist hitting something soft yet hard at the same time, and Jake goes quiet.....

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