Harry Knight - Slimer

It was past ten p.m. when they finished eating and the women were all‘anxious to find somewhere to sleep as soon as possible but Paul insisted they check out the locked, rooms before they turned in.

It took another hour before they had broken down all the locked doors and investigated all the rooms. They didn’t find anyone but what they did find didn’t improve their state of minds. In all the locked rooms there were more piles of empty clothing — but in every case the doors had been locked from the inside.

What they found in one of the recreational rooms was particularly disturbing — a large mound of clothing piled up against the far wall. Paul estimated that there was enough to clothe twelve people. They also found another two Ml6s and a revolver — which brought the total of guns they’d so far collected to eighteen — and what appeared to be two make-shift flame-throwers.

‘They must have had an orgy in here,’ said Alex and gave a dirty snigger, but Paul was aware of his underlying nervousness. And he had to admit he was feeling increasingly uneasy himself. Something weird had happened on the oil rig and until he found out exactly what he wouldn’t be able to shake off the fear that it could happen again. To them.

‘It’s as if a group of people were all backed against the wall, facing the door, and then simply vanished out of their clothes,’ said Mark softly.

‘Hey, don’t say that,’ said Rochelle angrily, ‘you’re scaring me.’

‘I can’t understand how they got out with the door locked from the inside,’ said Linda.

‘Perhaps they did get dissolved,’ said Chris nervously, ‘by some kind of new biological weapon. A gas or airborne virus that eats human flesh…’

‘Uh-oh, she’s dropped her bag of cookies again,’ muttered Alex.

‘What are you talking about, Chris?’ asked Paul.

‘I think this place is a secret government germ warfare establishment. It ties in with those big models of chromosomes we kept finding in the labs. They were creating illegal biological weapons with genetic engineering. And one of them got out of control…’

‘But this is an American-owned rig,’ said Linda.

Chris shrugged, ‘So the American government are behind it. It would be typical of them to set up a dangerous weapons establishment right on another country’s doorstep.’

‘Hey, hold it,’ protested Alex, ‘that’s my crowd you’re slandering there. The greatest country in the world.’

‘Any country that can produce both Charles Manson and you, Alex, I have sincere doubts about,’ said Linda sweetly.

Alex scowled at her. ‘One of these days I’m going to take that smart mouth of yours, Linda, and make it look like your ass-hole’s twin sister.’

‘Okay, cool it,’ warned Paul. Then, ‘Actually Chris might be half-right. This place could be some sort of clandestine genetic engineering establishment. One thing’s for certain — is hasn’t been used for oil drilling for a long time, if it ever was at all. Right where we’re standing now should be full of drilling and pumping equipment, storage tanks and other stuff. This platform is just a shell, a clever piece of camouflage for all the labs…’

‘Which means,’ said Linda, ‘that whatever they do in here is definitely illegal.’

‘Yes,’ agreed Paul, ‘and that’s probably why whoever it is who’s been left to look after this place is staying out of our way. They don’t want to answer any embarrassing questions.’

‘Fine. That’s settled then,’ said Rochelle, yawning, ‘now let’s go get some sleep.’

‘Good idea,’ said Paul, ‘we can resume the search in the morning.’

‘I don’t like to think there’s someone prowling around while we sleep,’ said Chris.

Alex hefted his M16 in a menacing fashion. ‘Nothing to worry about on that score. Nobody’s gonna mess with us. We got guns and plenty of ammunition.’

Chris pointed at the piles of empty clothing. ‘So had they.’

They chose three cabins near to the kitchen where they’d eaten. The cabins each had four bunks but all three couples wanted to be on their own. It was the first opportunity for anything approaching privacy since they’d left Morocco. On the yacht they’d been obliged to share the vessel’s one large cabin and, of course, since the sinking the situation had been much worse.

As a result the foremost thing on Alex’s mind as he closed the door of his cabin was getting laid. It had been nearly two weeks since he and Rochelle had made love and for him that was a record he intended he would never beat.

He locked the door then turned and wrapped his muscular arms around her, squeezing so hard she grunted with pain.

‘Okay Ro,’ he said, ‘we got a lot of catching up to do so let’s get goin’.. ’ He ground his pelvis hard against hers then started to push her backwards towards the nearest bunk. He stopped when she suddenly brought her right knee up sharply into his groin.

‘Cunt\ . ’ he hissed as he let go of her and doubled up, his face white from the pain.

She regarded him calmly. She was never frightened of him, no matter how aggressive he became. She was confident she could always handle him. ‘I’m tired, Alex. Very tired. I’m going to sleep right now.’ She began to undo her shirt. ‘You’re going to have to wait until morning.’

‘I should break your jaw,’ he gasped.

‘Yeah? You just try, mate. I’d make you regret it for the rest of your life. So just shut up and go to bed like a good boy.’

He quickly forgot his pain as he watched her take off her shirt and then unzip her jeans. His eyes took in her tight, round breasts and the provocative curve of her muscular buttocks — the latter a legacy of her ice-skating days — as she bent down to slip out of her jeans. His anger began to fade too as his desire increased. Of all the women he’d ever known Rochelle had a body that came the closest to his sexual ideal. She had him where it counted the most, he realised ruefully — by the balls.

‘Hey, Ro… I was only kidding.’ His voice took on an unpleasant, pleading whine. ‘You know that.’

‘Yeah, sure.’ She was naked now and as she climbed onto the bunk and got under the single blanket he received a glimpse of her pink, shaved crotch which excited him even more. He could feel himself getting harder as he thought of the last time he had shaved her — it was something he insisted upon doing to all his women. It had been in the dingy hotel room in Morocco — it had been around lunch time on a blazing hot day and they had both been as high as hell on hashish. Ro had lain there on the big bed in the bright sunshine while he had worked on her as slowly as possible, taking elaborate pains with every stroke of the cut-throat razor. Afterwards they had had some of the best sex he could remember.

He swallowed dryly as he got to his feet and went over to her bunk. ‘Hey, c’mon Ro. Don’t be a bitch. I’m feeling really horny.’

She looked up at him through bleary, red-rimmed eyes and said drowsily, ‘I’m not kidding, Alex. I’m dead tired. I’ve got to get some sleep. In the morning I’ll do anything you goddamn want but you’re just going to have to wait.’ Then she turned over on her side, with her back to him. ‘Put the light out, will you?’

Cursing under his breath he went and switched out the light then stretched out on the other bottom bunk, not bothering to get undressed. He felt really tempted to go and screw her brains out whether she wanted it or not but he knew it wouldn’t be worth the consequences. He needed her too much to risk wrecking their relationship completely.