Dominant Species Volume One -- Natural Selection (Dominant Species Series) Read Online Free PDF

most fantastic place to camp. Not only were
there great hiking areas, but two fresh water streams in the canyon, one of
which emptied into a crystalline pool the locals called “Diana’s Bath.” It was
just the place for newlyweds to frolic and enjoy the outdoors. Jim was sure
they could spend the entire weekend there and not run into another person. He’d
done it plenty of times. There was just the single cabin up on the ridge at the
far end, but that was at least three miles away.
    He had driven the bus up the canyon road and passed all the dozens
of Nazi “No Trespassing” signs and turned off along a barely visible trail just
wide enough to let him by. He’d stopped about a hundred feet in, then Bailey
and him had run back; and using pine branches off the convenient tree, had
brushed away the tracks to hide their passage. With that bit of “woodsy trickery,”
as Bailey called it, they had disappeared in the canyon. Completely undetected.
    Diana’s Bath was just a ways down the draw and the gentle trickle
of the stream that fed it was so restful at night. It was Bailey’s first time
at Jim’s secret grotto getaway, but Jim knew right away that she had taken to
it as quickly as he had. They’d had sex as soon as camp was made, and then made
a bitchin’ meal of barbecued steaks with big potatoes that they wrapped in foil
and baked in the coals. Jim had no idea, until that very moment, that Bailey
was such a damn good cook. He had never felt so good after eating that meal and
later with his woman under his arm walking barefoot in the cool little stream.
He thanked the stars for her.
    They made love again just after dark, and full of food and fresh
air and tired from the sex, they curled up like kittens in the double sleeping
bag and went fast asleep.
    At about 11:00 p.m., had they been watching, they would have seen
those pans and utensils with iron content, the ones Bailey had left by the
dwindling fire, twitch as the alien craft drifted silently over their camp
site, just fifty feet above the ground.
     
    *   *   *
     
    Phil watched the stars until his neck got tired of craning up.
He’d folded his arms around himself and wondered whether it was from the
night’s chill or the overwhelming sense of vastness above that he’d done it.
    He took off his glasses and turned to go back inside when he heard
the long, low grunt coming from the southern end of the canyon. It was faint,
but he easily heard it. It sounded a lot like one of Westberger’s steers, but
not quite. One of the peculiar advantages of his high, virtually unobstructed
view of the canyon from High Ridge was the fact that sound traveled up to him
on the ridge as if it were traveling over water.
    He cocked his head so an ear was pointing south just as he heard
the faint high-pitched feminine squeal from the same spot and the male yelling
and some more screaming, then nothing. He didn’t like that much. He didn’t
care for raucous sounds in his canyon late at night. It sounded like a
squabble, but it could have easily been horseplay. They could chase themselves
around at night somewhere else. He’d talk to them on the way out Sunday if they
were still there.
    He started back to the cabin and swore at himself again for
walking around in the dark without a light. This was serious snake country.
Walking around at night was the best way in the world to get bitten. He hoped
that’s not what he just heard down in the canyon.
    He went to bed about eleven thirty and lay there naked thinking of
Linda. She’d be there tomorrow before nine, practically careening up the road
to get there. She wasn’t careless or reckless, she was a no-nonsense woman who
knew how to get from here to there and usually did it in a hurry. She was the
one who’d flash her brights on your ass if you didn’t get out of her way on the
freeway and was the first to give you the finger if you challenged her.
    Though unmarried, they’d had a long and fairly smooth