Slither - Edward Lee [35]
"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