Read Untitled Online

Authors: Unknown Author

Untitled (3 page)

       As she'd always known she would Megan loved working in the Safari park from day one, watching and treating what she called real animals, not wasting her time on household pets and show birds. The job had allowed her to work with animals in the truest sense of the word, facing the challenge of the wild head on and succeeding.
       Despite her love of the job Megan missed her family and small circle of friends and, after five years, she'd returned home. Luckily the job at the City Zoo had landed straight in her lap. It wasn't quite the desolate wilderness of Africa, but it kept her close to the animals she felt she could relate to.
       Within two years she'd worked her way up the ladder and was finally promoted to Head of the Wild Cats Department. Some said she would continue to move on upwards, but this posted suited Megan. She had no desire to move any further, happy to hold onto the rung of life she'd chosen.
"You stick to your cold blooded reptiles," Megan joked, jabbing a playful fist into Peter's side.
       "Cold blooded. You should get along," Peter threw back and immediately regretted it.
       He saw the dark expression fall over Megan's face and knew the remark had hit her harder than any punch. He hated it when she turned like this and his heart sank in his chest at the prospect of three days awkward silence from her.
       "I was joking," Peter said.
       "See you tomorrow." Megan threw her bag over her shoulder and left.
       "I'll lock up," Peter shouted to the empty room.
Two
       "Greg, have you turned the gas bottle on yet?" Maria Whitehouse called out to her husband, twiddling with the cooker knobs and quickly depressing the ignition button.
       "Give me a bloody minute," he shouted good naturedly from outside. "You wanted the awning up first."
       Maria crossed the small seating area of the mobile home and leaned out the door, smiling at the Greg trying to balance opposing poles and get them to line up.
       "You should have asked for help," she said, her grin wide and loving.
       "Big man need no help building tent for family," he smiled back at her as the two poles clicked together. "See, me big and strong." He thumped at his chest and walked towards Maria.
       She stepped down from the door way and wrapped her arms around his waist and he responded by placing his over her shoulders. They looked deeply into each others eyes, no words needing to be said.
       Greg moved his head forward and his lips brushed against Maria's ever so gently, just the way he knew would send her weak at the knees. Maria giggled like a small child, moving a hand from his waist to the back of his head and pulling him in for a more lingering kiss. Her lips parted and Greg's tongue slipped smoothly into her mouth, met by hers with eagerness. Greg stroked from her shoulder, down her arm and then to her stomach, sliding his fingers under the bottom of Maria's summer vest.
       She moaned at the touch of his fingers against her stomach. Greg kissed his wife harder and his hand crept upwards until it was resting on her breast. He began to massage her through the fine lace of the bra, growing excited as her nipple hardened under the caress of his fingers.
       Maria felt the warmness of arousal between her legs and wanted to feel Greg inside her more than anything, but her parental judgement pushed any sexual thoughts out of her mind.
       "Greg, the children could be back any moment," she said.
       "Adds to the excitement, don't you think?" Greg winked.
       "The last thing I want is to be caught by our children in that kind of position." Maria replied.
       "What position did you have in mind?" Greg reached out, but Maria slapped his hand away.
       "Seriously, Greg. Do you want to be the one to sit down with a six year old boy and an eight year old girl and have to explain why mummy and daddy were fighting in the nude?" Maria couldn't hide her smile.
       "Or I could tell them we were working on another brother or sister."
       "That'd be great." Maria's smile turned to a frown as she looked over Greg's shoulder.
"What's wrong?" Greg asked, turning to see what his wife was looking at.
       "Just talking about the kids," Maria replied. "I told them to stay in view of the van." Maria was already walking away.
       "They won't have gone far," Greg reassured. "They know better than to wander away when we're camping."
       "Then why can't I see them?" Maria increased her pace, marching between the sparse trees and stepping out into the sunlight that bathed the lakeside.
       "Courtney… Ryan," Greg yelled, turning his head left and right as the beginnings of panic set in.
       Maria took her husband's hand and gripped it tight as her stomach knotted with fear. She franticly searched the shoreline for any sign of the children.
       "Ryan… Courtney," they shouted together, heading left at a brisk pace.
       "Ryan… Courtney." They received no reply.
       "Greg?" Maria's face was already wet with tears.
       "They'll be fine," Greg replied, unsure of the truth of his words. "They'll be playing a trick on us." He tried to smile, but it wouldn't come.
       "Ryan… Courtney." The terror of losing the children turned Greg's shout into an uneven warble.
       Greg flinched as Maria's nails dug into his palm and she pulled him back towards the trees.
       "What?" he asked, following his wife. "I saw something move near the ferns," Maria explained in high pitched, clipped syllables.
Greg tried to slow her down, but Maria snatched her hand free and began running towards the undergrowth.
       "Ryan… Courtney!" Maria screamed as she ran.
       "Mummy." Courtney's reply came back, weak and tearful.
       "Courtney." Maria stopped in her tracks and searched the tight fern growth. "Where are you honey?"
       "Courtney," Greg sighed. "Daddy's here."
       "I want to go home now." Courtney stepped out of the bushes and Maria's legs nearly gave out, but not with relief.
       Courtney stopped in front of them, her face a smeared mess of mud, grass stains and blood. Her pale pink shorts and matching t-shirt looked almost black and clung to her tiny frame, wet and heavy. In her hands she held the tattered remains of the green top Ryan had been wearing when they'd set off less than fifteen minutes ago.
       Greg knelt down next to Courtney and attempt to take the remains of Ryan's t-shirt away from her, but she refused to let go.
       "Please give it to Daddy," Greg asked softly, trying his hardest not to let the horror of what he was seeing swallow him alive.
       "No," Courtney snapped. "I wouldn't give it to them."
       "Give it to who darling," Greg asked.
       "They took Ryan, but I wouldn't let them take this," she stammered, her body shivering.
Greg took his daughter in his arms and picked her up, turning to face his wife. "Maria, take Courtney back to the van and call for help."
       Maria stared emptily into space. Greg turned Courtney's head away, not wanting her to see what he did next. He slapped Maria hard around the face and her eyes slowly came back into focus. She looked at him, her bottom lip trembling.
       "Take Courtney." Greg kept it simple. "Get help."
       "Wha…wha…what about you?" Maria asked.
       "I've got to find Ryan."
       "You won't find him," Courtney whimpered. "They took him away."
       Greg passed the child to his wife, waiting until they had reached the point on the shore level with the van. Only then did he face the woodland.
       "Ryan!" Greg shouted, the plea followed by an unbearable silence.
       Greg waited for what felt like an eternity, scared for his son and scared of what he might find when he left the security of standing in the sun. He called twice more and then followed the trail Courtney had made through the ferns.

Other books

Invincible by London Casey, Karolyn James, Ana W Fawkes
Supersymmetry by David Walton
Dedicated Villain by Patricia Veryan
The Descent From Truth by Greer, Gaylon
Imitation of Death by Cheryl Crane
Rode Hard, Put Up Wet by James, Lorelei