| |
––––––––
I ran well into the night. I was starving; my stomach growled louder than my horrible crying. It’s hard to run while sobbing but I’ve never been a quitter.
My hands had been this mottled green color that I couldn’t understand, but at some point they’d gone back down to a passably human shape. Now, in the dark they, looked as if they might just be dirty, not deformed. I wondered whether I’d imagined how horrible they looked when I was stressed. I was starting to feel dumb for running out into the woods like a wild animal.
My tears flowed harder, whenever I thought about how I’d just skewered all my chances with the guy I’d been in love with for two years. I was a total mess, full on snot-face, when I heard a murmuring out in the forest.
It sounded like people were way out here in the woods. I moved closer, figuring people would be a better option than getting eaten by wolves.
Flickering firelight in the distance caught my eye, while sounds of revelry took over the usual peaceful tones of the forest at night. It was quite the party.
Hell, it was a full on festival. There was a huge number of people out in the woods, all dancing and scream-talking in the firelight. I wondered what morons lit a fire in the woods during the summer, but given I had just ran into the woods, after imagining scales on my hands, I wasn’t in a position to judge.
I came out into the clearing, lurking at the edge of the crowd, and trying not to gasp like a country hick at what I saw.
It was like a college party, but even more stupid and dangerous. People were throwing caution (and their clothes) to the wind. It seemed there was a lot of leather, alcohol, and bad decisions all gyrating on top of each other.
A lot of leather? My weary mind put it all together. It was the biker gang I had seen earlier!
I got a look at a jacket and realized I wasn’t wrong with my guess. It was a spiraling, serpentine dragon with massive wings, above which I read in medieval-looking letters, “Flamethrowers.”
Kind of a simplistic name for a dragon, but I guess the general idea was that these guys and gals caused a lot of destruction.
They were tossing all kinds of shit into the raging flames. A lot of it looked clearly stolen, and everyone’s trash was going into the massive bonfires as well. One guy took a full whiskey bottle and threw it in with a smash, which made a huge roar that everyone cheered along with.
People were dancing on top of pickup trucks and SUVS in various stages of undress. I saw one girl sloppily fall off a big SUV and then giggle as she tried to stand up out of the mud.
At least everyone was having a good time. Thankfully, nobody seemed to notice me, because they were all focused on their own enjoyment.
I smelled something wonderful. They were roasting meat on an open flame. From the size and scent of it, it was venison.
I didn’t know biker gangs also hunted, but I guess there was a lot I didn’t know about this gang, at the time. Such as how literal that “Flamethrowers” name was.
I walked casually toward the food, my stomach roaring and begging for protein.
I was almost pushed over by two guys running by me towards a keg, and I regained my balance by grabbing onto the seat of a motorcycle beside me. I looked at the bike and saw a man and a woman wrapped up.
My face burnt, and I looked away and I hurried away as quickly as I could. I didn’t get a great look, but they sure looked as if they were very, very close at the waist.
There was no way, right? That they were going at it on a bike in the middle of this party?
I hurried toward the roasting food, which smelled wonderful enough to kick all images of canoodling bikers out of my head. I was looking around for a fork and plates when a big drop of saliva fell out of my mouth.
I smelled the air and looked down. A slender hand had pushed a skewer of meat underneath my nose.
I reached out to grab it, but I wasn’t fast enough. He pulled it away and held it aloft, and I turned, with probably the angriest face I’d ever thrown at a stranger.
I was staring at the biker from earlier – the one who’d been thrown from his bike and who had winked at us. He grinned, clearly tickled to run into me again and to be taunting someone.
Firelight flickered against his playful eyes. They were black, but filled with bright light. It was like the joy of living was radiating out of them.
“Hey,” he said, “You’re the girl who was with that meat-cake earlier.”
I stared at the skewer in his hands. “Sorry to crash the party, but since I was in the neighborhood, I figured I might as well drop by.”
He shrugged and said, “The more the merrier. You look hungry.” He twirled the skewer gracefully between his index finger and thumb. The meat’s juice flickered in the firelight.
I said, “I feel near death, to be honest. Mind handing over the meat before somebody gets hurt?”
He laughed, and held the skewer back a little farther from me. “What’ll you do for it?” he asked
I didn’t really get the question. “I’ll pay you, I guess.” I still had my wallet on me, and it was only fair that I give them some cash if I was going to steal their food and intrude on their debauched hospitality.
He shook his head, “No, not like that. I meant what’ll you do. Like, do.”
I still didn’t really get it, and then he wiggled his eyebrows at me.
I groaned. “Gross, dude, I don’t even know you.”
He said, “Yeah, you do. I’m the guy whose life your boyfriend saved earlier. I’d say that makes us, like, dating-in-laws.”
I said, “Dating in-laws does sound like something they do here in Montana. But your life wasn’t saved. You tried to kiss Blake. Who isn’t my boyfriend, by the way.”
I felt a twinge of pain in my chest.
I continued, probably only speaking aloud because I was too tired to filter myself, “And he’s never going to be.”
He said, “Sounds sad”. And then he wrapped his mouth around the meat on the skewer, letting his lips close softly together, before pulling off a huge chunk slowly, making a big show of taking it into his mouth and chewing with gusto.
When he swallowed, loudly, he licked his lips slowly, before looking straight at me. Then he bit his lip, blissful, and shut his eyes.
His lips looked wet. Plump. Delicious.
I said, “I swear to God, if you don’t give me something to eat, I’m going to go cannibal in the middle of your nice party.”
He grinned. “Promise?”
But he wasn’t dumb. He handed me the skewer, and got started making me another one.
