Authors: Edward Lee
"I told ya, no fights. There's people on the island tonight."
Jonas seemed aggravated that he was wet. "Any idea
if they're camping near the headshacks?"
"No, so that's why we gotta be extra careful." Slydes
shirt read ST. PETE BEACH-A QUIET LI FLE DRINKING
TOWN WITH A FISHING PROBLEM. "So remember what I
tell ya. We get in and out fast as we can. I'll keep
watch and Jonas, you get in, grab some product, and
leave. Then we come back to the boat. We need to get
out of here in a half hour before the tide goes back
down too far."
"What do I do?" Ruth asked for instructions.
"You can tweak your titties for all I care. Just don't
make any noise. It's past midnight now, and these photographer people are probably asleep. But you never
know."
"Any of 'em chicks?" Jonas asked.
"What do you care!" Ruth objected and gave him a
hard slap to the arm. Jonas had always had something
of a voyeurism problem, and Ruth knew it. He actually
had a lot more problems than that, but that was another story.
"Two of 'em, I think," Slydes said.
"And that goes for you, too!" Ruth added, and
slapped Slydes.
Slydes latched a big, dirty hand to her face and
squeezed her cheeks between her teeth. "Keep your
voice down, ya pain in the ass."
Jonas swatted at a mosquito. Now that I think of it,
how about -if-Ruth-stays here?"
"The fuck I am!"
'She's high as a kite and'll be yappin' the whole way."
Even in the darkness they could see her face redden. "I'm not stayin' here by myself! There's gators and
snakes and stuff!"
"And leeches and ticks," Jonas added. "Oh yeah, and
them big spiders that paralyze ya when they bite."
"Fuck that shit!" Ruth conveyed as eloquently as she
could. Right after she'd said it, a bat squeaked by.
"Fuck!"
Slydes pointed a smudged finger. "All right. No more
noise or we leave ya here."
"Fuck," she whispered.
"So let's quit fuckin' around and get moving."
They moved slowly down the trail. Visibility was
poor even when their eyes acclimated to the darker
woods. Unseen animals could be heard scampering
through brush. Slydes felt as though he were walking
through fog.
A hundred yards in, he whispered, "Not a sound.
Look."
They peered past trees. A light flickered. Tents had
been set up in a small cove, and a campfire crackled.
A blonde in a bikini sat before the fire, writing in a
notebook.
Oh, man. There's a party, Slydes thought.
"Damn," Jonas whispered. "Would you look at the-"
Ruth glared. "I'll pop your nuts off if you even think
about looking at her!" came a hot whisper in response.
Slydes chuckled. He had to admit, it might be fun to
have a roll with this one and then maybe tune her up
Slydes and Jonas-style afterward. After all, Slydes had
his skinning knife on him, and he had a pair of pliers on
the boat that he sometimes used to pull out gator teeth.
Yeah, we'd get her screaming something fierce. But ...
Not tonight.
We just get in and out, he reinforced to himself.
"Shit," Jonas whispered next. "How come these folks
aren't sleeping?"
Someone else emerged from the woods and approached the blonde, who looked up and started chatting. In the firelight, Slydes could tell the guy was a
big-time geek: skinny, lanky, stoop-shouldered. Who
the hell's this turkey-neck? One of the photographers?
"Let's move on," he whispered.
They crept away, swallowed by the woods again. The
trail veered.
"What if there's people at the head shacks, too?"
Jonas asked.
"There won't be. Ain't no reason," Slydes felt sure,
then, Good god-DAMN!
The outside light glowed bright at the first head
shack, and the door stood open.
"Aw, shit, Slydes!" Jonas whispered.
"I can't fuckin' believe this shit. There's no reason
for any of these people to be here, for shit's sake!"
At least none that they could think of. It was the farthest head shack Jonas used for his hydroponic operation, at the other end. He knew if he took a chance now
and blew it, they'd lose the whole works and a hell of a
lot of money.
"I say we go in and get the dope anyway," Jonas said.
"No way," Slydes insisted. "We'd be morons to do
that."
Ruth smiled in the dark.
Jonas wasn't happy. "Shit, Slydes, I don't even think
there's anyone in that first shack anyhow."
"Then why's the door open, dick-for-brains? Why're
the lights on?"
"Maybe-"
With no warning, Ruth squealed like a referee whistle.
Slyde's heart surged. He slapped his hand over her
mouth to seal off the shriek, and felt her tremoring in
his grasp. What the shit!
What was wrong with her?
"Quiet, quiet!" Jonas shot another whisper. He held
up Ruth's quivering arm, which displayed a small thin
snake. "It ain't nothin'," he said and plucked the snake
off with his fingers and tossed it away. Shit, a little
snake's all it was, Slydes thought. He kept his huge
hand clamped over Ruth's face, and took a few silent
moments for him and his brother to see if anyone inside the head shack had heard Ruth's outburst.
A shadow appeared in the bright, open doorway, and
a figure stepped out.
Another chick, Slydes thought. What the fuck's going on here? And it didn't matter, because if she'd
heard them, and called authorities, they'd have to beat
feet off the island and leave everything.
All that pot.
The woman in the doorway looked wan, slim. She
walked out and glanced around as if indeed looking for
trespassers.
Then she shrugged and went back inside.
"We lucked out," Slydes said under his breath. "She
didn't hear." He gestured with a jerk of his head to
move off.
When they got to another clearing, Slydes realized
he still hadn't let go of Ruth. She collapsed out of his
arms when he released his grip.
"Shit, man!" Jonas exclaimed. He seemed almost
amused. "Is she dead?"
Moonlight broke through some clouds. Ruth lay
crumpled and still at their feet. I didn't smother the
bitch, did I?
He began to worry just when her chest heaved and
she snapped back to consciousness.
"Damn," Jonas remarked. "We could only hope."
Her eyes batted; she leaned up on her elbows. Then
awareness returned. "Holy fuck! That snake!"
Slydes looked down, hands on hips. "You're as dumb
as they come, girl. You almost blew it for all of us."
She seemed outraged by the comment. "There was a
snake on me!"
Slydes dragged her up by the T-shirt collar and
slammed her against a tree. it was just a baby pine
snake, you empty-headed-fuck brain."
it was gonna bite me!"
Her eyes bugged when Slydes, again, slapped his big
hand over her mouth. "If you don't keep your fuckin'
voice down, baby, the next time I go trolling for gators,
it's your ass I put on the hook."
Jonas smiled, popped a brow at the threat.
"Pine snakes ain't poisonous," Slydes went on, "and
that one was too small to bite anyway. You are about
the dumbest set of tits on two legs." He dragged his
hand away and pointed at her. "We hear one more peep
out of you, and you're gonna be a dead set of tits, you
hear me?"
"All right, Jesus," she complained.
"What do we do now, Slydes?" Jonas asked. "We don't
grab the weed soon and get out, we'll miss the high tide."
Slydes grumbled, rubbed his beard. "I know. We only
got two choices. Leave now and come back when it's
safer-"
"Let's do that," Ruth dared in the lowest voice.
"-or wait till that chick at the head shack goes to
sleep. Then we grab some weed and go camp out ourselves in the middle of the island somewhere. And wait
twenty-four hours for the next night tide."
"I can't put this off, Slydes," Jonas insisted, shaking
his head. "If I don't put more product on the street, I'll
lose all my bagmen to the competition. Don't matter
how good my hydro is, I'll lose my rep if I can't put the
shit on the street."
"Then it's settled. We wait till later and grab the stuff
tonight."
Ruth's expression showed what she thought of that.
"So we gotta sit in the woods for twenty-four hours?
With all these snakes?"
Jonas smiled. "Yeah, baby. Maybe we'll tie ya to a
tree and let 'em bite your titties. Or stuff a handful of
'em down those little shorts of yours."
"Oh, fuck you."
"Let's go back to the boat and wait a bit," Slydes
said. "I need a beer." His thoughts strayed during the
walk back. Tonight'll be a hassle but it's worth it, he
knew. His brother's hydroponic pot demanded top dollar on the street for its quality, and it was a hell of a lot
easier than dealing with that illegal gator meat. All in
a day's work, he dismissed. Up ahead, he watched
Ruth turn at a crook in the trail, caught a fine side
glance of her body. Yeah, she's a big-time pain in the
ass, but ... The body was the thing, and her knowing
what to do with it; hence, the chief reason he and
Jonas kept her around. She'd tied off the T-shirt in a
big knot, revealing a belly good enough for one of
those ab-cruncher commercials. The night's humidity
moistened the cotton fabric, which only divulged more
of the large, heavily nippled breasts. As she walked,
the bottom of her butt cheeks edged out under the
shorts.
Yeah, he knew. She probably will be gator bait someday ... but ... In fact, a little romp back at the boat
might help tone down some of the night's aggravations.
I need to tap my love vein, he thought. He knew that
Jonas was already sick of her, but as for himself? She's
too good-lookin' to kill just yet.
When they got back, the clouds were breaking well.
At least they'd have a little light now. Ruth sat back up
on the prow, the breeze parting her hair, while Jonas snoozed in the back fishing chair. The boat rocked languidly in the water. The night seemed serene now: the
moonlight fluorescing the woods, the crickets and
peepers thrumming their drone. Slydes could appreciate none of this, however, not the transcendental type.
He clattered belowdecks, snapped on the cabin light,
and reached for a beer.
"The fuck ..."
He'd nearly slipped on the ice, which was melting on
the floor. The beer cooler had been tipped over. The
cover to the map box hung open, and he was sure it
had been closed earlier. And when he looked at the
toolbox, the tools seemed ... disarranged.
"Get down here!" he barked.
Jonas and Ruth rushed down.
"What?"
"Which one of you tipped my cooler?" Slydes demanded. "Were ya born in a barn? You knock something over, you pick it back up."
"I don't drink that shit," Ruth said. "I could use a
line of coke, though. Or some crystal."
"You were the last one to get a beer, Slydes," Jonas
reminded him. The fuckin' thing probably tipped over
during the trip."
Slydes gave it some contemplation. He's probably
right, but-"The map compartment's hangin' open,
too," he added. "I didn't even use a map tonight. And
see the toolbox? It's messed up. The rachet's always on
top 'cause I use it all the time. I even used it today before we left. Now it's on the bottom.'
"Like someone was looking through it," Ruth presumed.
'Me door to the head's open too," Slydes added.
"And I'm positive I closed it and put on the latch."
"Oh, fuck," Ruth groaned. "You guys are scaring me!"
Jonas' eyes were narrowed as he thought back. "I may have pissed after you, Slydes, and I don't remember if I latched the door, and come to think of it, I may
have fished around the toolbox for the stub-head
screwdriver 'cause I remember wishin' I had one when
I was taking the screws out of the insulation panel I
hide the weed behind."
"The map compartment could've just fallen open,"
Ruth said.
"What about the cooler?" Slydes asked.
Jonas laughed. "You're worrying about bullshit,
man. A swell probably came through when we were on
the island, tipped the fucker over."
Slydes mulled it over. "Yeah, I guess you're right," he
finally conceded. He picked some beers off the floor
and followed his brother and Ruth topside.
In truth, however, Slydes was right. Someone had
rooted through the cabin when they'd been out.
But he was wrong about something else ...
The thing that had landed on Ruth's arm earlier
wasn't a baby pine snake.
"I repeat, zero-zero. Three more are on the island. Tho
males, one female."
The radio line seemed to stall over the information.
"I don't understand this. The island's supposed to be
uninhabited."
"It's not now."
"Is the latest group military?"
"Negative, zero-zero. All three are civilians. They're
acting discreet, though." Transients, the sergeant guessed.
They're up to something. Why would they have Dome to
the island at night?
"Be extra cautious." A hesitation. "We can't take
chances at this point. If any of them see you, kill them."
"Roger, zero-zero."
"Out."
The sergeant stood in the brambles, thinking. He
didn't know if this was good or bad. The more people
who came out here, the more test subjects for the specimens, and so far that phase of the operation was
working. Each day they were getting a more accurate
picture of gestation periods, ovatic dispersal and function, mobility efficiency, etc. This was a lot of effort
and expense for a biological feasibility study ... but it
was working. It was proof that genetically transfected
hybrids could be used as weaponry.
So long as we don't get caught out here.
The sergeant didn't particularly like to kill civilians.
The corporal was finishing up with the cameras; they
needed to monitor more of the island's outer perimeters.
"All done," the corporal announced.