Noctuidae Read Online Free PDF Page A

already knew—had known it somehow from the moment she woke. Now she was alone with Pete . . . with Pete and whatever was outside. Which was worse?
    She struggled to scream again—from grief, from fear, from simple rage—but Pete kept his hand squeezed tight across her mouth. She gasped rapid breaths through his fingers as best she could.
    —I want to let you go but you got to be quiet. Promise me.
    Again she beamed back her most concentrated hate. She never wanted him on this trip. Oh, we’ll make it a double date Ron told her. Except Pete’s alleged date was a no show, surprise, surprise. If the woman was ever even real. Oh god, was Ron really dead? Then she thought of the vast shadow obscuring the night outside. Oh what the fuck? She managed a stillborn miserable nod beneath his hand. Anything to get him off her. Who would she scream to anyway?
    Pete stared down at her, his face suspended so close to her own. She felt certain if they could see each other clearly he would see her hatred and she would see his doubt. She had doubts of her own though. Legit ones. She distinctly felt the rigid root of his cock pressed against her where his crotch splayed over her pelvis, and she remembered from a cultural anthro class how guys were not supposed to get hard if they were genuinely scared. Their course text had shown carvings, erect angry effigies from around the world. Ithyphallic. An erection in the face of threat was alleged to demonstrate courage. If Pete wasn’t really afraid what else wasn’t true? And what really happened to Ron?
    Still, best to play along at this stage. Getting loose would allow her to call for help, run for help, find a weapon, maybe even find Ron. Pinned down this way she had no options, no chance. Nothing.
    Again she offered what constrained nod she could, and this time Pete first eased the pressure of his hand then lifted it a few inches above her face. He did not rise off her though and kept close watch on her mouth.
    Sue-Min gulped air and turned to the right causing Pete to drop his hand not quite but almost back to her mouth. No Ron in sight. The cave was small, Ron’s half empty pack still beside her. Ron was not. Ron was nowhere, nowhere she could see. Outside still the enormous shape of shade, a monstrous blotch of blackness blotting out the night sky. Inside Pete still straddled her, his gaze fixated on her mouth, knees pinning her arms above the elbows, gag hand prepared to clamp down at once if she screamed or yelled, made any sound. He leaned in close and she twisted her head to one side to avoid the unwelcome kiss she still anticipated.
    Yet he only whispered in her ear. His voice crackled with what she took for genuine panic. She heard it clear now. He was barely keeping it together himself. Which likely made him more a threat.
    —Listen to me. If you want to live through this night you got to listen to me. Here’s what I can tell you. Ron got up. To pee I suppose. I remember that. I half woke as he passed. I looked over at you and you were still asleep. Next thing I know Ron was gone . Just. Gone. I got up to check on him and when I came to the edge I saw what was out there. I stayed quiet, backed up slow, real slow . I’m sorry I sat on you but I was afraid you would scream and call it down on us if I woke you and showed you without taking measures. There’s more to all this but I can’t just explain. You’ve got to see for yourself.
    Whoa. All this freaking out over what—a shadow? Was this all a setup? Still, hard-on or no, big burly Pete was visibly upset and she’d never seen him even ruffled before. But was he truly scared? She couldn’t deny something was bugging him. Plain old-fashioned guilt maybe? What if he had done something to Ron. She didn’t see how the shadow could be rigged though, and she never pegged Pete for much of an actor, despite his occasional tendency to quote from Hamlet . Seriously, what was that thing outside? And where. Was. Ron?
    Pete sank