Slither - Edward Lee [42]
That was the grossest part. The thing's shell was the color of pus.
He plucked it off with haste, then turned on one of the deck lights. Damn! he thought, outraged. The fuckin' thing was on my 'nads! He squinted at it.
Some piss-yellow bug, but it wasn't hard as he'd expect a beetle to be. It felt hot, wet.
"Fucker," he grunted. "You're fish food," and he flicked it over the side.
Thank God it hadn't bitten him-whatever it was. He surely would've felt a sting of pain on so sensitive an area. If anything, the area he'd plucked it off felt ...
Kind'a cool and tingly, he noted. It wasn't unpleasant in any way.
How'd the fucker get in my pants? he wondered next. No biggie, it was gone now, but he figured it must've crawled up his leg when they were cutting through the woods to get Jonas's dope.
Suddenly Slydes twitched in place, stood up straight and wide-eyed. Now he felt another sensation.
"You gotta be shittin' me!" he muttered and stuck his hand down his pants in the back. He fished around and, sure enough, pulled another one of the things out.
It had crawled right down into the cleft of his buttocks. Another one in my ass crack!
In truth, though, Slydes had to feel sorry for the bug.
Dumbfounded, he checked his entire body and found no more of the things.
Some squirmy kind of leech or slug, he reasoned. He'd picked it up in the woods, so that meant Jonas and Ruth probably had too.
He thunked down the steps to the cabin.
"Jonas! Ruth! The two of you's better check yourselfs for bugs. I just picked two off me."
But when he looked around, no one was there.
Belowdecks reeked of pot smoke. He'd seen them down here earlier, toking up some of the stash they'd brought off the island.
Slides climbed back up and popped the cap off another beer. He looked out toward the island's massive tropical forest. I wonder where the hell they went ...
(III)
The warm bare wood beneath Ruth's nakedness felt weirdly luscious; in fact, her entire body felt that way-cocooned in the wonderful, lulling buzz. Jonas took them to this old shed when they'd left the boat; he'd seen it on previous trips, just an old storage shed of some kind. A lot better than doing it in the woods, she thought, with God knows what kind of bugs crawling around. Not to mention that snake that had jumped on her earlier .. .
Jonas was already up and had his clothes back on. "Want another toke, baby?" He hoisted his favorite carved-wood pipe.
She grinned and shook her head, hair disarranged and skin teeming with sweat.
Jonas took a few more hits, then popped a brow. "I swear my stuff gets better and better. No wonder my bagmen are screamin' at me to grow more."
Ruth slowly sorted her thoughts. "A year from now, you'll be rich, Jonas. When we start more plants in the other head shacks."
"Damn straight." Something seemed to catch his eye in the corner. "What's this?"
Ruth felt too lazy now to even lean up and look.
They hadn't noticed it before, but Jonas picked up a drawstring bag. He curiously inventoried the contents: "Swimmin' trunks, towels, suntan lotion ..." Then he looked at her. "Shit, Ruth, someone left their shit here."
"The photographers?"
"Naw, they're keeping their stuff at the campsite."
"Slydes said that college kids come out here sometimes," Ruth recalled. She had her flashlight set on end, shining at the ceiling. It brought down a murky umbrella of ringed light that Ruth found fascinating. "They must've left it."
"Hmm. Yeah. Guess so." He seemed satisfied with the conclusion. Another conclusion might've occurred to him had he been observant enough to notice the portable grill outside, and the beer cooler full of melting ice.
"Let's get going, I'm tired."
Disappointment overwhelmed Ruth, something she was used to with this pair. "I thought we were going to sleep here. Let's cuddle!"
Jonas frowned. "Come on, put your clothes on and let's go back to the boat."
She leaned up on her hands. Why couldn't he or Slydes ever do anything she wanted? It would be romantic to sleep here.