Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.
You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.
Click here
"Are you watching?" Harry tossed the question out quickly, eyes intent on the rapidly moving scenery.
Boy, was she ever watching; her wolfish eyes were open wide as the truck rocked into open spaces again.
She spotted the markers immediately, red and yellow again, she saw. The yellow was on the left side instead of to the right that they had turned earlier. Harry slowed, turning left, then slipped and slid around in a figure eight, again facing the direction of their egress from the last charge. He shifted out of gear and let the truck idle, opening the glove box and removing a cigarette from a box and lighting up.
He leaned back in the seat, and rolled his head to look at Sandra's head swiveling around as she looked for any nearby markers. She recoiled violently as claws screeched on the door; Max's panting maw became visible over the edge of the window. Harry laughed heartily as she threw herself away from the startling, slobbering jowls and lolling tongue.
"Ahh! Max you bastard. Just you wait." She slapped the door producing a hollow boom and Max scampered off, vanishing in the broken view afforded by the vegetation.
"Looks like you have a new best friend. Watch out your window as we go back down." "Back down?" She questioned.
Smiling crookedly, evilly, He crushed the cigarette out in the ashtray and placed the truck in gear, gunning the engine, popping the clutch and spinning away through the woods.
They entered the opening to the gully once more, speeding under the arch of vine covered trees. They raced down the snaky passage, the truck rising on the wall of the gully in the turns and then breaking free once again into broken shrubbery and tall cedar that gave view to the backside of the sunflower field. Max galloped along beside them, visible in flashing images that seemed more like photographs, framed in greenery instead of real life.
Swooping in and out of depressions, swerving lightly around small hummocks, ducking as the occasional limb attempted to swat then, and dodging the wildlife fleeing from frantic barks and engine noise, they soon arrived at their original entrance into the woodlot.
Harry slowed, turning onto the main trail again; he took the first turning between two ancient cedar trees, his fingers lightly grazing the bark in greeting, and then stopped once again. Sandra could see quite a distance across pockets of shadowed trail and protrusions of stone and plant. Yellow markers screamed caution in every direction, fading and vanishing slowly in distant window-like openings through shrub and lichen covered rock. She found it hard to believe the stretch was passable and came near laughing insanely as Harry spoke.
"This is not a fast section of trail." Harry stated while enjoying her disbelieving, doubting eyes darting over the daunting landscape. Max loped out of the underbrush on the high side of the trail and stood in majestic pose, tail curved tightly and erect over his back, head raised, nose sampling the air; then with a low growling 'Woof', plunged into the hollowed depths of the stony halls. She answered his remark at last without moving her head from the seemingly impassable terrain.
"No Shit. You really go in there with this truck?" In answer, he started the engine and eased forward and down. The truck moved very slowly now as it moved into extremely rocky territory, if merely rock could describe the large, weather worn and crumbling, limestone slabs and boulders. Tall cedars sprang from their tightly rooted grasp of the garden of stone; small ones clung beaten and crushed in the extreme proximity of the trail; some were sporting a valance of clinging primrose. Random Honey Locust rose in primordial splendor, spreading limbs covered in primitive leaves and long hanging banana-like flat pods of beans; large multi-pointed thorns sprang from the trunks and branches completing the primeval look of the trees. At the first turn the fun began.
Sandra thought that this would be a stressful and scary passage but was soon pleasantly surprised, as they proceeded unhurriedly down the gentle rises and dips with the sedate movement of a rocking chair. They floated down the trail, rising and falling, bobbing up and down like a boat in the wake of a slowly passing vessel.
Exiting from the trail, after a long enjoyable ride of twists, turns, switchbacks, and hairpin curves, a wide green yard-like area was revealed. Visible on the bordering left side of the trail was a small plant covered pond fed by a tiny splashing stream pouring out of a hole in the rock. Max was standing in water to his belly; he looked up and surged to the bank with sharp barks; water flew with his excited approach.
"You want to get out and play with him?" Harry asked, stopping easily and killing the engine. Max shook violently, slinging water and slobber in the air. Sandra rolled up her window, although on the opposite side of the potential disaster the dog represented.
"Nope, I'm good. The water does look nice. I'm getting thirsty too, but not thirsty enough to go out there with him wet like that." Max's face became suddenly visible at the window. Harry leaned back quickly to avoid stray splatters of dog spit.
"Thirsty I can fix." Harry declared, opening the sliding windows behind the seat, sliding his upper body out and digging in the cooler tied to the truck bed. She began playing with his ass.
"You're not helping any." He yelled, jumping at her touch, thumping his head in the tight confines of the opening.
"Settle down or we'll have to start your lessons again." She called back with a squeeze. Unintelligible grumbling and the rattling of ice in the cooler was the only response. He emerged from the window with a quart of ice-cold sweet tea in his hand. Wrapping a hand towel around the dewed jar, he unscrewed the top and placed it in Sandra's hand. She drank thirstily in large gulps.
"My God, that's good. Here have some. No, wait." She drank again then handed him the jar.
"Glad I packed plenty." His lips twisted in what might have been a smile, looking slightly bewildered at the remainder left to him, then shrugged and tossed it off. Screwing the lid on the empty jar and wrapping it securely with the towel, then placed it safely in the glove box. He opened the door, jumping to the ground, and walking under the willows that shaded the pond with long wispy branches hanging over the water. Max was back by then, chasing minnows and frogs that were frantic to escape his attention.
"Forget about me?" Sandra spoke behind him, while wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning against his back. He chuckled, patting her hands while speaking sincerely.
"That's impossible, totally impossible, are you ready to do some driving?"
"Oh Yeah!" She answered, squeezing him in excitement.
"Well, let's let the truck cool for a while. Driving so slow through that stretch tends to overheat it. I'll check the oil and coolant. Give me five or ten minutes then we'll hit it again, okay?"
"Alright, I'll cool off too." Then with a gentle squeeze, her fingers slipped easily from his waist.
Sandra wandered away under the willows, admiring the miniscule white blooms that adorned the water plants covering the little pool in profusion. Stopping occasionally, she threw small stones near the dog that caused him to attack the disturbance in frenzied barking and splashing. Waves surged across the water, with his passage from splash to splash. Stopping where a break in the leafy fence of willows revealed the rutted trail on the backside of the pond, she looked past the tall cedars to the field of sunflowers as they danced in the light breeze.
Harry finished his inspection of the truck and looked up to see Sandra standing on the bank looking out over the countryside; she was motionless except for her hands and fingers fluttering at her side like leaves in the breeze. Slipping his camera from behind the seat, he snapped her photograph while admiring the beauty and grace of her lovely form. He took one more of Max as the dog rampaged across the pond, beating the water into froth, then replaced the camera in its former location. Leaning against the truck, he enjoyed her slow movement as she continued her circumnavigation. She looked up finally to see him waiting there and waved, hurrying to his side.
"All ready to go again?" she asked excitedly. He smiled, holding out the keys to her while opening the door. She scampered in while he answered.
"Yep, all ready to turn and burn. Just take it easy till you get the feel of everything and watch for the markers. Remember, in case of doubt go slow. Most of the transitions at intersections are mild so take them that way." So saying, he closed her door, went around the truck to climb into the passenger's seat, and buckled in.
Bracing one foot on the large transmission tunnel and the other against the floorboard, he nodded to her to go; and she went. Harry immediately grabbed the window sill, desperately, as the truck blasted out of the clearing, slewing into a left hand turn, back to the right again, and headed through clouds of dust that obscured the trail.
"Glad to see you're using plenty of caution." He yelled over the noise of their rapid transit past clumps of island like foliage. Her only reply was an intense tooth showing smile as she hunched over the steering wheel, intent on the unaltering danger of a mistake at this speed. Three deer bounded across the trail pursued closely by Max.
She drove like she made love, with wild abandon and complete concentration. The combination was amazing and irritatingly successful in both areas. She used the truck like she used his body, exacting the last possible bit of performance from it and then, surprisingly, more. Turning, twisting, bumping, bouncing, she came to a path that, if followed, would lead to the top of the hill not quite a mile away and four hundred feet higher.
"Stay going straight." He said loudly, trying to be heard over the roar of the engine. She blasted along between fence and trees up the narrow path. The Cedars gave way to hardwoods of Maple and Ash.
"Shift into second gear and back off the gas," he instructed. The trees became taller, their boles thicker; the underbrush, fencing the narrow tract, denied light by the high cover, thinned, allowing long sight lines. Higher they climbed cresting a small hill; the trail sloped down into a fold in the earth leading to the base of the large hill. They moved downward, gathering speed in the higher gear, descending now through forests of tall standing hardwoods; their swift passage blew swirling masses of leaves into the air behind them. Down the trail in a long parabolic arc they flew over the leafy floor. And then, upward under tall sentinels of Hickory, Walnut, and Poplar, they traveled, swiftly ascending the big hill.
The air became cooler as they neared the top. Ancient Oaks and Walnut stood guard where the trail turned onto a flat terrace, seventy-five feet shy of the summit; it became a roadbed of baseball sized fossilized coral, revealed through the carpet of leaves; it was winding through a cathedral like space under a green leafy roof supported by column like boles of the old growth timber. Distant vistas of hill, forest, field, and pasture were visible in the miles long view afforded through the trees. The blue sky and distant scenes of the countryside seemed like stained glass windows, allowing light into the immense area encompassed by walls of living greenery. Block like masses of the stone tumbled down the remaining height of the hill in profuse disarray.
"Stop here and shut it off." Harry shouted over the crunching, grinding sound of their bouncing movement across the stone.
She turned the engine off; quiet descended. Harry jumped to the bed of stone, walking around the truck and opening the driver's door for Sandra. He handed her down; they walked together to the mass of blocky stone descending to the road. Max, searched the leaves by the truck.
A gentle breeze, fragrant with the scents of the forest, caressed her body like gossamer cloth being drawn seductively across her skin. She bent to inspect the strange stone made of thousands and thousands of dead creatures fused together to constitute a single stone. Some were holed with tunnels and weird looking indentions that appeared to be badly eroded carvings; all were strange and seemed out of place here on the high slope. Her eyes were drawn up the tumbled mass of step-like stones rising before her.
"How did they get here?" she asked as she continued to move from stone to stone.
"They say that this area was once covered by water in prehistoric times. Great shallow seas slowly disappeared as the ground rose under them becoming dry land unknown ages ago. The stone is fairly common in lower areas like fields and stream beds, but these are a very uncommon size." He turned, moving over the stone, pointing to emphasize his remark and fell to the ground as if he had been shot dead. Sandra rushed to him.
One moment he was turning on a rock to point up the slope leading to the crest, the next he felt the crushing impact of the ground as his body struck the rough boulders beneath him; swirling blackness and purple light obscured everything. He could hear Sandra calling frantically to him.
The purple waves of light became effervescent bubble like points that faded to a single dot, and then disappeared. Then, the blackness took him; it dragged him down like a stone thrown into muddy water. Sandra's voice called again from far away; the words were unintelligible. An indeterminable length of time later, something moved in the dark; what was it? Oldman was conspicuous by his silence. Their attention moved to it; as if from far away, it moved, closer. A figure came striding forward out of the distance, moving forcefully toward him. With each booming fall of foot, shadow like ripples, shivered from it, echoing waveringly through his head.
The ripples spread, chasing each step. It was close enough now to determine its identity; full plate armor covered it, shining green and luminous with engraved feathery images. The arms were held wide, a large silver sword griped in one mighty gauntleted fist. It stopped now, fully visible, feet planted shoulder width, ready and waiting... for what? Protecting what? Preventing access to what?
His eyes were drawn to the helmet; it was styled in the image of an owl, the ear crest and beak were the visor of it. Engraved feathers covered it and the rest of the helm. Sandra's imploring voice called again to him from close by.
He opened his eyes. Tears, kisses, and hair covered his face, hands and the sides of his head.
"Harry! Harry! Harry!" her voice called in a broken scared tone. He must have moved, or made a noise; because she raised her head to see him looking back silently. She bawled and bent anointing his face once again.
"Are you hurt? Do you need help? What do you want me to do? You weren't moving. I was so scared." She continued kissing his face. Max was trying to get his share also. His whining face thrust close to theirs. Harry waved his hand as Max's dog breath struck his face in panting blasts of warm, moist, air.
"Gimmie a moment." He managed to say, as he began testing his limbs. He felt like he had been beaten by a very large stick, as he pulled himself to a sitting position slowly, only to exclaim and fall back once again and begin digging at his backside with a hand. This set off a new set of wails, tears, and questions from Sandra. He pulled a large stone from beneath him and glared at it a moment, then sat up.
"What a pain in the ass." He said, then tossed it behind him and stretched his back then rose slowly, carefully to his feet.
Sandra laughed with nervous relief with his recovery and little appreciation of his jest; she walked with him as he moved haltingly to the truck. He pulled up into the cab, gingerly, buckling up while Sandra scrambled in the passenger's side. Harry drove easily down the hill, watching the hilltop fade from sight in the mirror. Sandra sat beside him, holding him closely on his uninjured side, her head resting on his shoulder and chest.
"Are you ready for some lunch? This might be a good time to take a break. Besides, I could eat." He whispered in her hair and kissed the top of her head.
"I could eat too." She answered in a small quiet voice, her face buried against his chest, fist clutching his shirt tightly.
Again came the sentry's thought.
--All stations, Home clear, cancel Intruder, initiate Chase, say status.
--Chase running, proceeding north bound, target in sight.
Sandra relaxed, realizing that Harry was speaking.
"What?" She asked. Once again she had been distracted from events that should have been reported to her father.
"I said, we don't talk to each other much, do we?" He said, grunting as they turned, bumping down the trail, forest on one side, a thin strip of sloping pasture on the other.
"We're too busy experiencing each other's presence to waste time talking when we can do." She said, watching out the windshield as they descended the slope. "It will come; it makes more sense to gain trust and acceptance than to try and pry our defenses and shields open. How are you feeling?"
"I'm going to be sore tomorrow; hell, I'm sore now. And yes, we sure are busy enjoying each other. I felt pretty well used this morning." He said with a grin of satisfaction. "Now I've been..." The Green Warrior and the fall during the sudden blackout gave him pause. He didn't know how to explain it. Why was this happening to him?
"Beat up by a bunch of boulders," he finally blurted. She sat up straighter, peering intently at him. Moving her head to inspect his, she ran her hands over his skull, inspecting it closely, as he drove down the hill. He stopped the truck at the mailbox before pulling out on the road for the two-mile drive to his picnic spot. He looked at her. She had that smart-ass grin on her face again and a wicked twinkle in her foamy blue eyes. Here we go he thought.
"Do you think it could be brain damage?" She asked. He looked at her suspiciously, eyebrows knitted in consternation, and then answered warily.
"What could be brain damage? I didn't hit my head on the boulders."
"Why, your sudden use of alliteration Harry, Buh-buh-buh boulders." she said, with her mischievous eyes cast away. She snickered, pretending to continue her examination. He shut off the truck and depressed the button that retracted the seatbelt.
"So, think you want to be funny now? Maybe I should test your tickle reflexes; then you can really laugh." He moved his hands down her sides; she shot away to the far side of the cab, hands held out protectively. He pursued her across the seat, and grabbing an unprotected knee, squeezing hard enough to tear yelps of laughter and surprise from her as she squirmed to escape. A hand struck his bruised side and he retreated with a gasp, hands held up in surrender, but still smiling. "Peace!" he shouted, sliding near the door. He knew enough not to get her started; she played rough. And that look in her eye promised painful retribution. She regarded him with crossed arms, her chin raised. She let the moment pass and her feigned glare relax.
"Lunch?" he asked hand on door handle, prepared for escape, while watching for any sudden attack.
"Yes, by all means, feed me. I'll need all my strength to kick your ass." She smiled innocently. Harry shook his head in disbelief and started the truck to drive the remainder of the way to the river. Sandra hung out the window, letting the air blow her hair back, as they drove down the curving blacktops that led to his friend's farm along the river. He smiled as she waved and called to the occasional neighbor passed along the way.
