bag and mentally called Janice every name in the book. That bitch wouldn’t get away with kicking him in the balls. This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. He’d get her back, and that stupid pistol jockey, too.
He’d get them both back.
Chapter Six
Colby and Bock tromped through the woods, their bodies glistening with sweat in the stifling midday heat. The two had been walking since early that morning without a single break. Colby was eager to get back and so he set a breakneck pace. He had to give Bock credit; the man hadn’t complained once. Probably he was just as anxious to get back, but still. The guy was in good shape for someone who worked in a lab.
“How you holding up, Bock?” Colby called over his shoulder.
Bock grunted a reply, but Colby didn’t quite catch it.
“What was that?” he asked.
“I said, ‘My balls are in my throat, and I’m sweating from every crack I own, but other than that I’m fine.’”
Colby chuckled. “You hungry yet?”
“Starving.”
Colby picked out a small clearing just big enough for the two men to sit down, and took off his backpack. “Let’s eat.”
Bock stumbled in behind him and plopped down on the ground without removing his pack. He reached for his canteen, unscrewed it, and took a long pull. When he finished, he handed it to Colby, who drained the rest of it.
Lukewarm water. Dandy. “What? No Budweiser?”
The look Bock shot him across the small clearing would have made him laugh if he hadn’t been so hot and tired. He reached into his pack and pulled out a bag of jerky, which he opened and handed to Bock. “Here, the protein will do you good.”
Bock took the bag and shoved a handful of the stuff into his mouth. Then he grabbed another handful and handed the bag back to Colby, who watched the man chew the huge mouthful with a mixture of amusement and concern.
“We have to make that last the rest of the day, so go easy.”
Bock nodded. “How close do you think we are to camp?”
“About halfway, I think,” Colby said around a mouthful of jerky. “Maybe more. We’re taking a more direct route back than we did while looking for Jared, so we should get there by five or six o’clock.”
Bock groaned, but didn’t complain. He reached down and started massaging his quads. Colby knew the feeling; his own legs felt like they were on fire. Six hours of hard marching through the forest in the middle of July could do that to a person.
The two men finished eating in silence. They passed around another canteen, but didn’t drain this one. They had two more between them, and hot as it was, they figured they’d need every drop. Colby vowed to buy Bock an ice cold beer when they got back to civilization, and Bock promised to name his first born Colby.
“What if your first born is a girl?” Colby asked.
“Well, it’s worked for you, hasn’t it?” Bock replied.
Colby laughed and told Bock to go fuck himself.
Just as they were packing up to go, Bock began to sniff the air. “You smell that?” he asked, lifting his face upward.
“Quit stalling,” Colby replied. “My legs hurt, too.”
“No, Sarge,” Bock said, taking another loud whiff. “Seriously…you don’t smell that?”
Then Colby did smell it. A moist, decayed smell, like rotting meat. Oddly similar to the way Jared smelled when he walked into their camp last night. The two men looked at each other, worry clear on Bock’s face.
“Harper?” Bock asked.
Colby shrugged. “It’s coming from that direction.” He pointed to their left, upwind. “We could go check it out.”
Bock hesitated, his face twisted with indecision. Colby waited, guessing Bock was probably battling his scientific curiosity and concern for Harper with his aching legs and common sense. In the end, curiosity won. Or maybe it was concern. Either way, Bock nodded, and motioned for Colby to take the lead.
The two left the clearing, following their noses through the heavy brush. Neither spoke, but Colby
He’d get them both back.
Chapter Six
Colby and Bock tromped through the woods, their bodies glistening with sweat in the stifling midday heat. The two had been walking since early that morning without a single break. Colby was eager to get back and so he set a breakneck pace. He had to give Bock credit; the man hadn’t complained once. Probably he was just as anxious to get back, but still. The guy was in good shape for someone who worked in a lab.
“How you holding up, Bock?” Colby called over his shoulder.
Bock grunted a reply, but Colby didn’t quite catch it.
“What was that?” he asked.
“I said, ‘My balls are in my throat, and I’m sweating from every crack I own, but other than that I’m fine.’”
Colby chuckled. “You hungry yet?”
“Starving.”
Colby picked out a small clearing just big enough for the two men to sit down, and took off his backpack. “Let’s eat.”
Bock stumbled in behind him and plopped down on the ground without removing his pack. He reached for his canteen, unscrewed it, and took a long pull. When he finished, he handed it to Colby, who drained the rest of it.
Lukewarm water. Dandy. “What? No Budweiser?”
The look Bock shot him across the small clearing would have made him laugh if he hadn’t been so hot and tired. He reached into his pack and pulled out a bag of jerky, which he opened and handed to Bock. “Here, the protein will do you good.”
Bock took the bag and shoved a handful of the stuff into his mouth. Then he grabbed another handful and handed the bag back to Colby, who watched the man chew the huge mouthful with a mixture of amusement and concern.
“We have to make that last the rest of the day, so go easy.”
Bock nodded. “How close do you think we are to camp?”
“About halfway, I think,” Colby said around a mouthful of jerky. “Maybe more. We’re taking a more direct route back than we did while looking for Jared, so we should get there by five or six o’clock.”
Bock groaned, but didn’t complain. He reached down and started massaging his quads. Colby knew the feeling; his own legs felt like they were on fire. Six hours of hard marching through the forest in the middle of July could do that to a person.
The two men finished eating in silence. They passed around another canteen, but didn’t drain this one. They had two more between them, and hot as it was, they figured they’d need every drop. Colby vowed to buy Bock an ice cold beer when they got back to civilization, and Bock promised to name his first born Colby.
“What if your first born is a girl?” Colby asked.
“Well, it’s worked for you, hasn’t it?” Bock replied.
Colby laughed and told Bock to go fuck himself.
Just as they were packing up to go, Bock began to sniff the air. “You smell that?” he asked, lifting his face upward.
“Quit stalling,” Colby replied. “My legs hurt, too.”
“No, Sarge,” Bock said, taking another loud whiff. “Seriously…you don’t smell that?”
Then Colby did smell it. A moist, decayed smell, like rotting meat. Oddly similar to the way Jared smelled when he walked into their camp last night. The two men looked at each other, worry clear on Bock’s face.
“Harper?” Bock asked.
Colby shrugged. “It’s coming from that direction.” He pointed to their left, upwind. “We could go check it out.”
Bock hesitated, his face twisted with indecision. Colby waited, guessing Bock was probably battling his scientific curiosity and concern for Harper with his aching legs and common sense. In the end, curiosity won. Or maybe it was concern. Either way, Bock nodded, and motioned for Colby to take the lead.
The two left the clearing, following their noses through the heavy brush. Neither spoke, but Colby