Rescue - By Anita Shreve Page 0,13

On the other hand, she didn’t have a car.

* * *

It wasn’t until they were a mile from her place that she asked to see the land.

Webster was taken aback. “It’s dark out,” he said.

“There’s a moon.”

He peered up through the windshield. Point nine. He stopped the cruiser and made a U on 42.

“You liked it,” she said.

“Liked what?”

“Watching me hustle.”

“How long have you been playing pool?”

“Since I could stand on a chair.”

“You’re very good.”

“I’m better than you think,” she said.

Webster wondered if he could beat her.

“Can I ride with you sometime?” she asked. “In the ambulance?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It’s against the law.”

“I’ll bet it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve broken the law.”

“It’s not happening,” he said.

As he drove up the hill toward what he thought of as his piece of land, the gas-hungry cruiser sucked the needle down to empty. Webster hoped it would pop up again when they reached the summit of the ridge. If not, he could always coast to Sheila’s with a push or two.

Nearly every light in every house was out. No need for a light in the kitchen or living room to convince a potential burglar that someone was home. Everyone was home, everybody was asleep, and Webster knew all the doors were unlocked. Though he routinely locked the cruiser because the novelty of the vehicle and the equipment inside attracted teens, his parents had never locked either their cars or the doors of their house. Most police calls involved vehicular accidents or domestic disturbances fueled by alcohol, with the occasional after-hours attempted break-in at a store or warehouse. McGill and Nye had plenty of time, on their shifts, to play poker.

When Sheila and Webster reached the ridge and the best vantage point, he stopped the car.

“This is it?” she asked.

“This is it.”

She rolled down the steamed window to get a better look. The cold bit their necks. The moon and the frost lit the shape of the land and the dark mass of mountains in the distance. He seldom drove to the spot at night, preferring the color and clarity of the day; but he could see that from a cabin, the panorama outside a picture window would be worth staying awake for.

“You’re going to build a house here?” she asked.

“Maybe. Someday.”

“Kind of isolated.”

“That’s the point.”

She walked out onto the frozen grass and wrapped her leather jacket around her. Webster opened the trunk and took out his uniform jacket, which he had folded next to his personal emergency kit. He shook it out and walked to where she stood. He’d left his hat in the car, and his ears burned. He set the long jacket over her shoulders, and she slid her arms through the sleeves. They hid her hands. She hugged the jacket close, like a bathrobe.

“Where’s the snow?”

“We had some in December. We’ll get socked any minute now.”

“You cold?” she asked.

“Not very.”

“You just like being here.”

“I do.”

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” she said from deep inside the jacket.

He was happy on the frozen grass, his toes going numb, his collar up to protect the back of his neck. It seemed that already the land was delivering on a promise.

“How long before you’ve saved enough?” she asked.

“I’m going to speak to the guy who owns it and tell him my plans. I won’t have enough for a down payment for a few years, but I want him to say he won’t sell it until then. For all I know, he might have promised it to a nephew.”

All Webster could see were Sheila’s eyes over the yellow and black collar.

“You know, Webster. This is the first time I’ve gotten a real vibe off you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.”

Surprising himself, Webster made the first move. He opened the high collar of the jacket and kissed her. Her lips were frozen into a half smile, but he didn’t want to stop.

He felt the moment when she kicked in. As he took her to the ground, she began fumbling with his belt. He saw in his mind her slim legs and the white bikini underpants, though in fact he couldn’t see anything except her face. He prayed that when she got him free, his dick wouldn’t shrivel from the frigid air.

She kept him warm and hard.

“You on the pill?” he whispered.

He felt her nod graze his cheek.

It was a contest of wills to see who could hold out the longest. Mostly against the cold. He thought the icy ground