The Strange Adventures of Rangergirl Read Online Free PDF

degradation. There were
insects
in the mud, bugs crawling past his knees, crawling over Jane’s hands and feet, spreading filth and disease—which was taking coals to Newcastle in this case, taking silicon to San José, because this was a
sea
of filth, a
citadel
of filth.
    His erection wilted, and he withdrew, shuddering.
    Jane looked over her shoulder, her expression dangerous and displeased. “What?”
    He shook his head and backed out of the mud. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”
    She stood up, crossing her arms over her breasts. “This is so fucking
typical,
” she spat. “I come to you, swallow my pride, and take you back even though you behaved like a spoiled child, but when I ask you to do something for
me,
to help me connect with the spirit of the earth, to transform our lovemaking into something spiritually significant—oh, no, that’s too much to ask, that’s
imposing
on you.” She stalked toward him, looking lethal as a jungle cat, horribly primal with the mud smeared on her body. The sight of her sparked some deep, almost archetypal terror in Denis—this was Woman, in a dangerous way.
    “Fuck
you,
Denis Reardon,” she continued, standing with her feet planted in the mud. “You can
walk
your selfish ass back to town.” She stalked past him.
    Denis grabbed her arm, but she wrenched free, shooting him a murderous glare. She stooped and snatched up his clothes, her clothes, and the blanket, running for the car, leaving behind the remains of the bread and cheese, and the knife. Denis had a momentary vision, absolutely clear, of himself snatching up the knife and running her down before she could get in the car. He would drive the blade between her shoulder blades.
    He would stab her, nine times, and leave her dead in the mud.
    Denis shook it off, shocked at his own thoughts. He was not a murderer, despite occasional bright flashes of temper, and he ran after her without the knife. He grabbed her shoulder, pulling her up short, and tore his clothes away from her grasp. She swung at him with her fist, and he stepped back, having rescued his belongings. “You bitch,” he said, surprised by his own fury. Denis usually kept his anger under better control than this. He thought of stabbing her again, and this time even turned his head and looked at the knife on the ground.
    She stood by her open car door. “I hope your dick falls off, Denis. It’s not doing you any good anyway, though I have to admit, I like it better than having you slobber all over my cunt.” She got into her car and started the engine.
    A great rumble filled the air, and Denis stumbled. The earth had moved, as if someone had shoved the firmament. An earthquake. Not a big one, but—
    The hillside was moving. Already loosened from the recent mudslide, and now jostled by the quake, it began to slide down.
    The earth was falling. That shouldn’t happen. The ground should be trustworthy, dependable—something you could count on.
    Denis ran away from the slope.
    Jane’s car started to back up, but she’d parked on a patch of mud, and the back wheels just spun. Once Denis was a good distance from the hillside, he turned and watched as the mud came down.
    The mudslide buried the car completely.
    Denis could hear Jane screaming. It was muffled and very far away.
She shouldn’t scream like that,
he thought, shock lending him a comfortable detachment.
She’ll use up all her air.
    No one else would hear her, he knew. They were far from any houses, far from anything but occasional passing cars.
    Denis had a cell phone in his coat pocket; the coat was draped over his arm. He could call the police, give them directions. They could bring earth-moving equipment, even a crew of men working with shovels and buckets. The car wasn’t buried deeply. The top of the mudslide couldn’t be more than a foot above the roof. Jane could still be saved. She had enough air to last a while. The windows had been closed, and since he could still hear her screaming,