Dark Grace (4 page)

“I saw some eating on that dead guy back by the dock when we first found the boat.”

“Crabs do that. Eat the garbage in the sea.”

“Should I try to catch some?”

“Sure, just don’t get pinched by the bastards.”

I smiled as he looked at me, and then stood and headed toward the waterline.
The small crustaceans proved to be fast. I tried to keep up with them, but every time I got near they managed to quickly scuttle sideways and disappear into the surf. Running after them wasn't the easiest thing for me, and I found myself holding my belly to support it. Finally, I got creative. I found a good sized rock and threw it at one before I got close enough to scare it away. My first throw failed miserably, but before long I had massacred four of the beasts. Gus walked along behind me gathering the horrid creature’s crushed carcasses.

“Ok, Zoe, let’s get to some real fishing.
We can boil these bad boys up later.”

“’Kay.”
I was just slightly out of breath and still holding my stomach.

“You feeling ok?”

I nodded. “Actually, yes, I feel great. Just out of breath.”

“Getting a little hard to move around huh?”

“Seems so,” I sighed as we reached our driftwood seat.

His face bore a look of concern.

“Still feeling the baby move?”

I nodded.

“Good. Hopefully the others will bring back some good equipment tonight. I’d love to listen for its heartbeat.”

“That’d be cool.
Look.” I pointed to a nearby tree, near the top. An eagle had landed.

“Shhhh, stay quiet,” he whispered.

I looked at him and wondered what was wrong as he reached for his rifle. I searched my head for signs of the dead, but came up blank. He wasn't acting like there was a threat. My eyes widened as he aimed his rifle at the eagle in the tree.

“Gus, what are you doing?”

He didn’t answer, but I promptly heard his gun fire. My ears rang as I watched the huge predatory bird fall from the tree. It landed in the tree line with a considerable thud. A huge grin spread out across Gus’ face.

“We’ll be eating well tonight,” he said.

“Gus! I can’t believe you killed it!”

“You’ll be thanking me tonight!” he chuckled.
I just shook my head. “C’mon, let’s go fetch it.”

“Ewww.”

We walked together into the trees and found the dead bird in short order. It was even bigger than I had expected.

“Holy cow, it’s huge!”

“They can have a wingspan up to seven and a half feet,” he said. “This one here looks like a female, and she’s young. See how her head isn’t all white yet? They stay brown till they’re about four or five years old, if I recall correctly. The females are up to twenty five percent bigger than the males.”

“You know too much,” I said.
“Way too much.”

“Nah, I’m just old.”

“Are we really gonna eat it?” I asked.

“You bet.
It’ll taste just like chicken, darlin’.” He grinned at me. “Let’s get back to camp and get it started for when the others get back?”

“Ok.”

“You can gut the bird,” he said, immediately followed by a deep laugh.

I smacked his arm, and then held onto his elbow as we walked back to the shore to collect the crab and fishing gear.
His other arm was busy holding the dead eagle upside down by its thick yellow legs. Its massive wings trailed on the ground.

As we left the tree line, Gus left the bird behind to collect on our way back with the gear.
I looked out to the water again.

“Gus!
Look!” I said excitedly. In the distance was a small yellow raft, similar to our orange version. It looked like it was drifting toward us as the tide was coming back in.

“Zoe, best go to the tree line darlin’.
Till we know it’s safe.”

“No way, Gus.”

We stood side by side and watched the small boat drift closer. The wind was blowing in our direction, aiding its course. Before long the breeze brought with it the unmistakable smell of death and decay.

“Oh no,” I moaned.
“Do you smell it?”

“I do,” he said simply.

The raft was almost to the beach now. We couldn’t see anyone inside, but I could sense one of the dead.

“I can feel it now,” I said.
“But it’s so weak in my head.”

Gus had his rifle aimed now.
The raft was bumping against the beach, still bobbling in the surf. We waited there together for horror to emerge. The back end of the raft would sway from time to time, still adrift, while the front end seemed well anchored. This went on for several minutes and I began to shiver, not from being cold but rather from knowing one of the dead was near.

“Zoe,” whispered Gus.
I want you to stay here on the beach. I’m heading over to peek inside.”

“Ok.”

“Promise me you’ll stay here till I tell you it’s safe.” He said this all without looking at me, never taking his eyes off of the raft.

“I promise.
Gus, be careful.”     

He continued forward, rifle aimed at the raft as he walked.
I had a sinking feeling in my gut, and the buzz in my head, while very faint, was irritating. I watched as he got close enough to the raft to be in real danger. The wait was impossibly long. Finally, Gus motioned me forward. I joined him, albeit hesitantly.

As I made my way to his side, I was finally able to see into the bottom of the raft.
Lying inside was a Roamer. Well, part of a Roamer. It had been dead for a long time, perhaps since the start of this plague. It was impossible to say at this point if it was a man or a woman. Its jaw was snapping back and forth, in search of something to consume. It was unable to do more than that as it had no arms, and only half of its torso. Its gray skin was thin and cracked, creating an image of a ‘living’ mummy. Its face bones were draped in this decaying skin, making it look gaunt. It must have been exposed to the sun for days, floating about aimlessly in the raft. Its shoulders ended in two stumps with darker gray stringy material trailing out. It made me wonder if the arms had been ripped off. Where its torso ended, the ribcage began. A segment of spine trailed below it, also trailing strands of fleshy substance. It was so far gone that it didn’t seem to even know that fresh meat was near. I thought it must be moving its mouth in hopes of food just finding its way there. I really wanted to vomit, so held my stomach and turned away.

“Holy shit,” said Gus as he coughed from the stench.

“We have to get rid of it, Gus. It’s going to stink up the whole island.”

“Zoe, can you help me flip the raft?
If we touch the fucker we’ll stink for days.”

“Sure.”

“Let’s drag the raft on shore first. We’ll have to bury it or it might keep washing ashore.”

“What about burning it?” I asked.

“Might be easiest, but smoke in the daytime might attract unwanted guests.”

“We can drag it on shore then burn it after dark,” I suggested.

“Yes, if we build a rock barricade to shield the flames from view. Might work out ok.”

“Can you put it down though?
It’s killing my head and my hip hurts.”

“Of course I will.”

It took us just a few minutes to bring the raft far enough on shore that the tide wasn't likely to claim it again. The raft was heavy, so we both took hold of one side and lifted. The semi-body, snapping jaws and all, toppled out. It ended up face-down in the coarse sand, trying to make lunch of the earth. Its horrid browned teeth were making scraping sounds against the grains of sand. The backside of the creature was even worse than the front. It had liquefied into a black sludge and there was no recognizable skin left. It was in stark contrast to the taut sun-dried skin covering its face and chest.

“Ok, darlin’ go ahead and step back.”

We dropped the raft. I imagined it’d never be usable again, the mess from the Roamer being extensive. I stepped back several yards, hoping the invasion in my mind would soon be over. I watched as Gus shouldered his rifle and picked up a large rock. He promptly brought the stone down on the back of the Roamer’s head. I could hear the cracking sound of its skull giving way to the assault, and the buzz in my head died. I didn’t need to ask why he chose this method for the kill. I knew bullets were a limited commodity and only to be used when absolutely necessary.

“Hang tight while I rinse my legs off,” muttered Gus, his voice full of irritation and disgust.
He stomped off to the salt water, walking out until he was knee deep. I forced myself to not laugh at him. I was the one who had asked him to kill the Roamer, so in a way his being coated in decay-splatter was my fault.

We walked together, fishing poles in hand, back to where the dead eagle waited.
Gus picked the bird up and held it upside down by its legs again, and we headed back to our campsite. I stayed a few feet ahead, since Gus now smelled a bit ripe, despite rinsing his legs off.

Once we got back to camp, Gus set the bird and crabs out on a fallen tree not too far from the fire. I put the fishing gear away and then opened a bottle of water for each of us. From the position of the sun in the sky, I figured it must be mid-afternoon. The day had gone by fast. Gus was busy trying to rekindle the fire, which was still just barely smoldering.

“I’ll get some dry kindling,” I offered.

“Thanks, darlin’.”

Before long I joined him fireside, a small armload of kindling in hand.
He smiled at me gratefully and took it from my arms. Soon the fire was roaring and the heat felt soothing. We sat near the fire, he on a boulder and I on a log, and warmed ourselves for a while.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” he said out of the blue.
“I know that wasn't fair.”

“What wasn’t?” I asked.

He looked at me with his intense eyes for a moment before answering. “Pulling you close and then pushing you away.”

I shrugged.
“Yes but I know it’s wrong,” I said quietly.

“It’s just hard because I want to be near you so badly.”

Feeling a bit uncomfortable with the conversation, I stood. I had planned to make up a chore that needed doing, but as I walked away Gus held a hand out to me. I wrapped my arms around myself and looked at his outstretched arm, considering.

“Please?” he asked with sadness in his voice.
“Just come sit with me for a minute?”

I hesitantly took his hand and let him guide me to his lap, where I sat.

“Tell me what I can do, Zoe, to make this right?”

I looked at him sadly, studying the lines and angles of his face.
He was a handsome man. Rugged. He looked tired and had traces of gray highlighting his sideburns that hadn’t been there when we’d first met. Without meaning to, I reached up and touched the side of his head.

“Your beard’s growing,” I whispered.

He closed his eyes and nuzzled my hand with the side of his face. “This isn’t helping,” he breathed. “God, it’s not helping things.”

I went to take my hand away, but he reached up with his own and held mine steady.
He lifted his other to the back of my neck and leaned in. He put his cheek against mine and inhaled. I could feel that he was restraining himself, trying to not get lost in the moment. His mouth found mine and we kissed long and hard, passion nearly consuming us.

“They won’t be back for
a while,” I whispered, almost inaudibly.

“Hours,” he echoed my thought.

“It’s just you and me,” I said quietly.

My lips found his neck, just behind his ear, where I kissed him sweetly while breathing him in.
I could hear him moaning gently. My hands found his shoulders as I moved my lips to his earlobe, which I drew into my mouth.

“Oh Lord, girl,” he gasped.

His hands slid up my shirt and he caressed my back lovingly while I nuzzled his neck with kisses. Our lips eventually met and the resulting kiss was filled with a deep affection of which I can’t claim to have experienced before.

“I want to make love to you so badly,” he whispered close to my face as we stared into one another’s eyes.

I rested my forehead against his and gave him a nearly imperceptible nod. Taking my sign, he carefully and expertly unbuttoned my flannel shirt, never taking his eyes off my face. I shrugged out of the shirt with his help and watched in awe when he pulled his own t-shirt over his head. His chest was smooth and absent of hair. His muscles were a work of art that I had admired from afar before, but never this close up. Still sitting on his lap, I traced the contours of his pecs lightly with my fingertips. I felt a sense of peace inside; an inexplicable calm. I leaned down and kissed his bare skin near his left nipple. His flesh felt hot on my lips; almost electric. He sucked his breath in and moved his hips beneath me wantonly. I took his cues and drew his small but erect nipple into my mouth and sucked gently. Eventually I worked one of legs around him so that I was straddling his lap. He placed one if his hands on the back of my head and clenched my hair gently in his fist. This time meeting my eyes with his, I saw fire and desire in his stare. He kissed me hard, making my insides burn with need.

“Make love to me,” I mumbled against his mouth.

He stood, lifting me with him, and carried me toward the tree line that surrounded our camp. He lay me down on the forest floor where moss was growing. I pulled my t-shirt over my head while he knelt down. He began pulling my sweatpants down.

“Are you sure?” he asked between labored breaths.

I nodded and kicked my shoes off, along with my pants.

It didn’t take long for him to take his own pants off.
He leaned over me, and trailed hot kisses down between my breasts. He continued to lower himself until his mouth found its way between my legs. He kissed me softly on the inside of each thigh while his hands stroked my hips gently. He groaned into me once he found his target. His tongue found its way inside of me, hot and wet. I arched my back and my hips fought to meet his efforts, desperate for more. He paused occasionally to suck on my clit gently, careful to not hurt me. I was nearing a peak in pleasure when his head emerged and he climbed his way back up my body. He was excited, his cock hard and ready.

“You’re absolutely positive?” he asked again.

I nodded again, and moved my body beneath him to show him how sure I was. “Just you and me,” I whispered.

He looked at me lovingly and stroked some stray hair away from my face.
“You know I can’t promise it’ll happen again, right?”

I nodded.
“I know.”

He kissed me longingly and tenderly, his hands slowly exploring my body.
He entered me unhurriedly and held me close as he made love to me.

After we climaxed together, he stayed inside of me for several minutes.
“I love you,” he whispered softly.

“Shhhh, don’t say that,” I whispered back, holding a finger to his lips.

He lightly touched my fingertip with his lower lip and closed his eyes. “I had to,” he breathed softly. “In case I never get another chance to tell you.”

I closed my eyes and tried to process what he’d just said, and what we’d just done together.
I felt a single tear fall down my temple toward the cold ground I lay upon.

***

The chill of evening was creeping in from the Sound and the shadows from the trees were lengthening. We had bathed together in the sea after our affections in the woods, and then took our places beside the fire again. We didn’t speak about our indiscretion.

“Ok, next on the agenda is to cook the crab.
Once they’re done we’ll prep Baldie for roasting,” said Gus with a wink.

“You won’t really make me gut it will you?” I asked.

He chuckled again. “No, but you can at least help me pluck her. Hang tight; I’ll grab a pot.”

I watched him walk to the table that served as our kitchen, duck down, and produce the largest pot we had on hand.
It was from a turkey frying setup that had been gathered from someone’s backyard. He carried it over and set it near my feet, and then walked to our water supply, which consisted of several covered buckets. We always had one uncovered and under the low point of the tarp of our shelter to gather rain. He brought one over to the empty pot and filled it three-quarters full.

“We’ll need to bring it to a boil,” he explained.
“Then drop the crab in and boil them till they turn bright red and float to the top. Maybe twenty minutes.”

“Will they last until dinner before going bad?”

“Oh yeah, no problem there. Once the crabs are done we’ll start on the bird.”

He jimmied the pot of water against the fire to bring it to a boil.
It took a long time until it was ready, and the stainless steel was turning black from the direct contact of the flames.

“You wanna toss ‘
em in?”

I shook my head.
“I’ll just watch.”

Gus winked at me and my stomach started growling.
He carried the four crabs over. They were surely some of the ugliest creatures of the sea. Tasty, but ugly. My mom claimed once that Dungeness crab were the best in the world. The water was at a rapid boil, and he let each of them fall in one by one. I found myself glad that they were already dead, although Gus had explained that it’s normal to boil them alive. He said their lives would end immediately if we ever did that. Still, it seemed brutal.

We sat on the log together, drinking our bottles of water.
I placed my hand on my belly.

“Feeling it move?” asked Gus.

“Yup.”

“May I?” he asked, holding his hand out.

I nodded and took his large hand in mine. “Here,” I said as I placed his hand over the small area where I felt movement.

“Feels stronger than yesterday.”

“Yeah, I thought so too. Press here,” I said as I guided his fingertips off to the side. “You can feel something hard.”

Gus sighed heavily.

“You’re worried, aren’t you?”

He rubbed at his chin with his fingers, which was answer enough for me.
“Zoe, you can’t be more than ten to twelve weeks along. You’re sure Boggs was your first?”

I could tell he regretted the question as soon as he asked it.

“I’m positive, Gus. I wouldn’t lie about that. Not to him and not to you.” I kept eye contact with him as I answered.

“The growth is just unprecedented, Zoe.
Yes, I’m worried.”

“Ok, but for now can we just try to not think about it?”

“Ok,” he answered while wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “Ok.”

I leaned against him and let him hold me close.
We watched the fire and the cooking crabs. Just as Gus had predicted, after about twenty minutes they began to float to the top of the pot and were bright red. He let go of me and I straightened up. I watched him rise and walk to the fire, two short flat sticks in hand. He used them as tongs to retrieve the crustaceans from their bath of death. He laid each out on a nearby rock to cool, and then returned to the pot. He fished out a large claw that had fallen off of one of the beasts. It found a home back with its owner on the rock.

“Ok, Miss Zoe, you ready for the fun part?”

I looked up. Gus was walking over with the bald eagle, again carrying it by its feet.

“What are you doing with it?” I asked, skeptically.
“And where are its wings?”

“Cut ‘
em off,” he said. I could tell he was trying to keep a straight face. “We’ll use ‘em for fishing bait. Ok, darlin’, I’m gonna dunk this in the boiling water.”

“Gross!
Why?”

“It’ll make the feathers about a hundred times easier to pluck.”

“Sick.”

He laid the bird out on the ground by his feet and proceeded to cut its thick yellow feet off.
“We can save the talons to make weapons out of; maybe spears for fishing.”

I wanted to look away, but knew I should watch and learn.
Gus picked the bird up by its massive head and proceeded to dip the body into the boiling water. He held it there for a good two minutes. The smell was horrid; something like burning poop and decaying leaves mixed with butt.

Finally, he took the carcass from the water and laid it out on a log not far from the crabs.

“We’ll let it cool for a couple minutes and then pluck.”

“It stinks, Gus.”

“Yup. I’ll tell you what. You go lay down for half an hour and I’ll get the bird ready to cook.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. You look a little pale.”

Inside I was screaming ‘yes
yes yes!’ but didn’t want to seem overly excited. “Ok, thanks. But wake me up in half an hour?”

“I promise.”

I smiled at him warmly, got up, and lazily walked to the lean-to. A typical evening breeze was beginning to stir. With each step I took, the horrible smell of the bird eased. I crouched down to clear the tarp that hung above our shelter, and collapsed onto the bed I had shared with Boggs the night before. I drew my knees upward and curled around my growing belly. The baby within was dancing, making his or her presence known. I knew I shouldn’t get too excited, as there was obviously something far from normal with my pregnancy. Still, I loved the sensation of the life stirring within me. Before long, I fell asleep.

When I woke, someone had covered me with a blanket.
Gus. One of the heroes in my life. Knowing he had done such a small act of kindness warmed my heart. I sat up and stretched. I could tell that daylight was fading. I listened for the rest of our group, hoping they had returned. All I heard was the tarp occasionally flapping in the intermittent breeze and the crackling of the campfire. I stood up and walked outside. Gus was standing beside the fire, watching his eagle roast on a stick contraption he’d made. I was impressed.

“Nice work,” I said as I crept up on Gus.