Born Savages - Cora Brent Page 0,83
wave at the man and start walking cheerfully away as he begins surveying the tent pieces at his feet. He probably sent them on a hike so he can figure out how in the hell he’s going to get this thing upright without losing his man card in the eyes of his wife and kids. He pulls his phone out, squinting and scratching his head. When I catch a few words and realize he’s watching some ‘How To Put Up A Tent’ video that he probably found on YouTube, I’ve had enough. I hop off the flat rock I’ve been sitting on and decide to be useful.
He looks up expectantly when he sees me closing in. “You staying right next door?”
“Yeah. Look, I’ve got time to kill. Don’t mind helping you get your camp sorted out if you want.”
He stares at me a moment, apparently decides I’m non-threatening and then extends his hand. “Appreciate it. Name’s Steve.”
“Oz.”
“As in wizard?”
“As in short for Oscar.”
Steve turns out to be chatty. He’s a financial adviser from the Phoenix area and this is his first family vacation in two years. The people who look like his wife and kids are in fact his wife and kids. The way he talks about them, with a kind of shining pride, marks him as one of the good guys even if he can’t pound a stake into the ground to save his life.
After I get the stakes in and the tent upright there doesn’t seem to be much point in hanging around. Steve’s family is bound to return sooner or later and it would be better if I wasn’t here saving the day. Anyway, there’s got to be a less traveled trail I can explore for the remainder of the afternoon. As I’m grabbing some water from the truck and getting ready to head out, Steve calls me back.
“Thanks for the hand, Oz. Listen, I may not be winning any prizes for outdoor survival anytime soon, but I can cook up a mean rib eye on the grill. Why don’t you drop by later and take advantage?”
I have to grin over his earnestness. “I may just do that, Steve. Thanks for the offer.”
When I’m out of the carnival-like camp atmosphere, I pause, check the position of the sun and start heading due east. I’ve got a bit of time before dark sets in and I plan on using it to clear my head. The other night when I drove out of Atlantis, I was just fine for the first hour as I rehashed current events.
I thought I’d climbed out of the shadows and jumped back into Ren’s life just because I needed to see if there was anything left between us. But now I think maybe I wanted to torment her a little in the process. That’s tough for me to admit to myself but it’s true. A good guy, a guy like Steve for example, would have chosen to do it somewhere that didn’t have cameras. I could have done that. I should have done that. Maybe that old grudge was never as distant as I’d thought.
There haven’t been any other hikers in sight for the last half hour. I’m probably several miles from the rim of the canyon but that’s okay. The woods have a special brand of peace all their own. The colors here are faintly pastel, punctuated with thick greenery. I hear a rustling in the leaves to my right and for a split second I’m looking straight into a pair of startled brown eyebrows before the creature – no antlers, a female – bounds off elsewhere.
A few steps later I hear the rolling sound of nearby water and turn towards it. The brook is narrow but moves along at a good clip. The deer had probably paused here for a drink before I scared her off.
Now that Ren is back in my head I can’t get her to leave. What’s more, I keep flashing back to that sex show in the back of my truck. If the idea of using her that way was to get my fill and move on then it doesn’t seem to have worked. At least for me. Maybe it did for her.
All it takes is a quick memory jump, featuring her perky rosebud nipples and her sleek body opening underneath me, and I’m hard as fuck once more, wondering when it’s going to stop. Is this how it’s going to be forever? Is it what’s going to