Edward Lee - Slither

Ah, heat, he thought to himself. He much preferred the warmer monitoring posts. His last assignment had been the equivalent of ten below at the hottest marks. That mission seemed to last forever, he remembered, but at least the project had proved a success. The heat here-the blazing heat day after day-made him feel alive even in the protective mask.

His eyes flicked back down to the corpse.

The kids sure liked to party here. Three boatloads so far. They came to the island in spite of the warning signs and the rock-strewn beachless shore, to imbibe in every chemical and carnal indulgence. This one had been the prettiest of the first bunch, until the things had gotten her.

A few vestiges of her sexuality remained printed on the gray, putrefactive skin. The brown circles of nipples on once-sumptuous breasts, the groove of her sex, even the ghosts of tan lines. She was a skeleton dressed in flesh-tone rags that were falling off the bones.

Yet even looking at it this close left the sergeant unfazed.

It's just my job, he realized.

The island habitat shivered around him. Parrots cackled, lizards scampered up the trunks of palm trees. It's all so beautiful, he thought, and then he looked back down at the corpse and smiled.

There would be more corpses very soon.

(II)

"I've never done it in the woods before," Leona informed him.

Bullshit, Alan thought. You've done it everywhere, with damn near everybody, and I couldn't care less. He supposed he loved her, though, almost as much as he loved her body and the things she did with it. "It's not really the woods. It's a tropical terrain…"

"Whatever."

She was sitting on him, looking down. Beads of sweat glittered on her skin, like jewels. At one point she arched her back to gaze upward at the trees, and her head disappeared in the cusp of her considerable cleavage. "That's a neat trick," Alan said.

`What?'

'Nothin', babe."

Their lovemaking had put him to the test, but he couldn't let her know that. Jesus. A steamroller. Her tanlines raved: the Cool Whip-white pubis-hair-freesitting in the middle of all that peanut butter brown. Alan marveled. She didn't keep shaved for all the other guys, he knew. Guys always talked. I guess I'm special! The tan lines of her breasts were even more pronounced when she looked back down at him and grinned. "'T'hat was great, Alan."

"Oh yeah?-

She jumped off him and scampered away, nude as a wood sprite. Her carbon-black hair danced around her head. "Come on!"

Shit, I'm too tired to get up! "I'll be in. Gonna lie here for a few, grab some TM."

"Whatever." The chirpy giggle faded.

Man…

The island was great. Alan had partied out here about a year ago. Waiting for the high tide had been a bitch, but once they'd found the inlet, the rest was a breeze. At first he'd' feared that all Leona saw him as was a rich kid with a nice boat. Called that one wrong, he thought to himself. Guess I'm more of a package than I thought. It was a gratifying revelation.

Eventually he dragged himself up. He hobbled barefoot over twigs and dead palm branches, and made his way back to the shed. "What are you doing?" he yelled in the doorway

Leona paused midcut. Still naked, she stood with a pair of scissors at her jeans. "I'm turning these into cutoffs. Didn't know it would be this hot."

Alan was outraged. "I got you those for your birthday! That's a hundred-and-fifty-dollar pair of Sevens jeans!"

Her bare shoulders shrugged as she snipped off the last leg. "Now they're a hundred-and-fifty-dollar pair of Seven-brand cutoffs." She squeezed into them, fastened the button below the slitlike navel, then stood up on her tiptoes and raised her arms. "There. Now you can see more of my legs. What, you don't approve?"

Alan gulped. A topless Leona in cutoffs not much bigger than a pair of panties? "I approve."

"Thought you would."

Alan stepped into his trunks and looked around. This old shack was ramshackle but it would do. They'd brought summer-weight sleeping bags, plus the Coleman to cook on. And a big cooler of booze, he reminded himself.

"Look what I found," she said, handing him something.

An embroidered patch. A gold-rimmed shield with three arrows and a lightning bolt. Letters read: u.s. ARMY MISSILE COMMAND. "Where'd you find this?"

"The shelf."

"This place was a missile base a long time ago," Alan recalled, "but the missiles are long gone. The old station is on the other side of the island."

Her eyes widened with a question. "There are army people on the island?"

"No, no. It's all closed down. I'm sure this shack is where they stored stuff. It was ages ago, back when guys like Ford and Carter were in office."

"Who?"

When nature passed out the brains, it gave her tits instead, Alan mused. Now she was puttering with things in her bag, breasts roving. The pose, bent over like that, gave him butterflies.

"So you're sure there's no one else on the island?"

"I'm sure. No one comes here," he said. "Why would they?"

"To party! Like us!"

Alan shook his head. "It's too hard to dock. The only reason I did it is 'cause I'm experienced."

She wriggled her butt in the cutoffs. "You're experienced, all right. I hate to think how much."

"Let's not even go there," he suggested. He'd heard plenty about her, and Carol, too, and plenty about Leona and Carol together, and much else. Christ, she's only nineteen…

"Fine. I mean, it's normal to be curious," she said, still busying herself and looking spectacular while doing so. "I'd tell you my number if you told me yours."

At first he thought she meant phone numbers, but he already had hers. She meant sexual partners. "Leona," he said, "I'm not that insecure that I have to know how many men you've been with."

"Okay. I'm cool with that." She stood back up, erect nipples pointing. She looked out the frameless window. "I wonder where Carol and Howie are…"

"Out in the woods doing what we were doing for the last hour."

"I hope it works out with them. They'll make a great couple, don't you think?"

"Uh, sure." But he could scarcely concentrate on the question. Holy SHIT, she's good-looking… Her nipples stuck out like dark pink rivets set into the untanned and flawlessly white breasts. Teepees of more white skin pointed to her collarbones: the marks left by her bikini top. She was every college boy's dream, and Alan was very much a college boy. Thank you, God, he thought dumbly.

"Come on, let's go look for them."

Alan frowned. "Let's leave them be. They didn't interrupt us, did they?"

"But they've been gone a long time, Alan." She kept rising on the balls of her feet to peer out the window. The gesture tightened her calves and rump in a way that made Alan grind his teeth. "I'm starting to get a little worried," she said.

Chicks. "There's nothing to get worried about. Let me fire up the Coleman. I guarantee you the minute we get some brats and burgers on the grill, they'll be back."

She spun, grinning the way a woman always grins when she wants something. "That's a great idea, but I've got an even greater one. I'll fire up the Coleman while you go look for Carol and Howie!" And then she shuffled right up and gave him a kiss. Alan grew dizzy from the scent of her hair and the sensation of her tongue finicking in his mouth. Her breasts flattened against his chest, radiating heat, and when her hand momentarily cupped his crotch, he almost fell over.

"Isn't that a better idea?" she breathed into his mouth.

"Um-hmm," he breathed back.

"And when you come back, I'll get some food in you 'cause you're definitely going to need your energy for tonight." And with a parting caress, she scampered outside.

Alan got his breath back and left the shack. Leona was already hunched over the Coleman.