"No. Have you? I'd go with you."

  "I have. You'd like it. I'd even wear a thong for you." The wind picked up, howling around them for a moment, the sound almost deafening. Okay, okay, no thongs.

  Cam groaned, pressed closer. "Promise me, Poe. Promise me you won't leave me here. Even if... even if something happens. I don't want to be left here."

  "No!" Damn it. "Nothing's gonna happen, but I would never do that. Not ever. Got it?" He tilted Cam's head up, meeting those worried eyes, staring right into them.

  "Yeah. Yeah, I hear you." Cam held his gaze. "You still think I have a fine ass, man?"

  "I do. I think it's the finest of fine." Patting the ass in question wasn't taboo in a big group of queers, was it?

  "Well, then." Cam winked at him and he heard Simon chuckle.

  When he looked over, the big guy grinned and shrugged. "I was thinking, if this was good porn, we'd all have to have a good, hard fuck and everything would be fine."

  "Too bad it's not, huh?" Poe sighed, checking the position of the sun. "We got to get moving, baby."

  "Yeah. Yeah. Let's do it. It's getting louder, so we must be closer."

  "Drink some water for me." Max looked better. So did Thom. God, it was like each of them had a sensitive and a handler. It was bizarre.

  Of course, that Morgan wasn't the sensitive one was even bizarre-er.

  Bizarre-est.

  Most bizarre.

  Whatever.

  Cam drank deep, one arm around his shoulders. Poe tucked the water bottle away when he was done, holding on for a bit while they walked. There seemed to be no pattern, just this wandering, loopy path, but when Thom, Cam and Max all stopped dead, he figured they were on to something.

  "Babe? Babe, what's wrong?" Simon looked puffed up like a big old dog, that knife held out.

  "Close," Thom said, voice sounding blown. "Here. So close."

  "Where? I'll dig it up and smash it. Cowboy, Max -- where?" Morgan sounded damn near frantic.

  "Morgan." Max groped out to take Morgan's hand, his other hand going to his head. "Hurts."

  "Poe? Poe, he's bleeding!" Poe stared over, Max's nose starting to bleed, the red streaks sliding down, the dark eyes rolling back. Oh, no. Oh, hell no. "Goddamn it! Where are you, you fucking cunt?"

  "Cam. Baby. Can you tell me?" Poe started surveying the ground, looking for a likely place, nudging his lover with the toe of his boot. "Come on, Cam, this is bad."

  "Uh... uh-huh." Cam's nose was bleeding too, a couple of drops becoming stream, Thom beginning to sway. "I... she's going to hurt you."

  "She's going to fucking hurt us all, damn it! Please, Cam! Show me!" Morgan had a little hammer and looked sort of like a possessed gnome, jumping up and down with it in his hand, looking around.

  Thom fell to his knees and started digging in the brush, pine needles and branches and little rocks flying, tearing his hands all up. Poe caught Cam as he fell, too, easing him to the ground and trying to staunch the flow of blood, Cam fighting him, trying to get to the hole Thom was making.

  Morgan got down there, hammer raised, just as Simon bent down, the back of the man's head exposed.

  Bared.

  Right there.

  Things sort of stopped -- all of it, the noise, the dirt, the blood, all of it screeched to a halt like some weird-assed sci-fi movie. Then Poe could see it, all of the sudden, the scalp split, skull exposed, shining in the moonlight, so white... The idea was suddenly fascinating -- to see the inside of someone’s head, to open them up and peer inside. To reach inside and push your fingers in, feel the heat squish around your fingers. Oh, Jesus, no.

  No.

  That wasn’t fucking cool and it wasn’t fucking happening. He would not lose himself or anyone else to that fucking whore. Then, with a jerk that threatened to snap the base of his snipe, time started again and Morgan’s hand lifted, the fading sun glinting off the sharp end of the hammer.

  "No! Morgan..." Poe leaped, waving his hands, trying to keep Morgan from bashing and hacking.

  "What? What? Poe?" Morgan's eyes looked... lost. Terrified. Fucking terrified.

  "Put down the hammer. Okay? Help Thom dig. I'll watch Max and Cam until... Then I'll kill it. I promise." Someone had to be free to watch everyone else and goddamn it, it was going to be him.

  "Okay. Okay. I wasn't going to... I wouldn't..." Morgan put the hammer down, dropping it like it was a snake, looking at it with disgust.

  "I know." He really did like Morgan, for all that the man was a freak. "I know. Max, come here." His fingers itched to dig, but he got Max and Cam sitting down together, leaning drunkenly.

  Morgan dropped back to his knees and started digging, head down. "It's right here. Close."

  "You can't have it. You have to let Thom take it." Simon was all growly, rumbling. "Thom, hurry."

  "Close," Thom murmured.

  Poe stared at Simon. "Could you possibly make him less zombie-like?"

  "I wish, man. I so fucking wish." Simon looked sick, like he wanted nothing more than for it to be the truth.

  "Christ. Are you ready for when they bring that thing out?" Poe stroked Cam's hair, Max's shoulder. Come on, y’all. Keep your shit together.

  "I hope so."

  Morgan gasped, reaching down towards something wrapped in a piece of rotted cloth. "There. I see it. I think I see it."

  They all three grabbed for the thing, Thom and Simon tugging the cloth, the ruby -- and how the fuck was it clean and shiny after all this time -- falling into Morgan’s hands.

  All hell broke loose. Morgan screamed, Max about knocked Poe down leaping for him, and Thom crawled back like a crab, scrabbling hard.

  The fucking thing was huge, red, and glowing. Something misty and weird surrounded Morgan, and Poe could swear he saw flames.

  "Max! No!" Poe executed a move any NFL player would find worthy, tackling Max, rolling off to one side and grabbing Morgan's hammer. Which he used to knock the God damned thing out of Morgan's hands.

  It went rolling, tumbling down the brush, flames starting wherever it tumbled. Cam stared at the flames a second, and then screamed. "Poe! Run!"

  "Oh, Jesus Christ." They had to get out of there. Now. Poe grabbed Max and threw him at Morgan. "Get your boy, God damn it!"

  Simon had Thom in his arms. "Go! Go! Go!"

  Max scooped Morgan up, the poor kid's face a study in agony. Poe didn't spare any more time for them, knowing Max would do right. Instead he grabbed Cam, and headed off for safer ground. Away from the wind.

  Away from that fucking thing that was out to destroy the motherfucking world.

  Chapter Fifteen

  "Poe. Poe, is he going to be okay?" Cameron ran for the first aid kit while Simon ran with a bucket for the creek. Clear. His mind felt clear for the first time in forever.

  They had to kill that rock. Do not pass go; do not collect two hundred dollars. Smash the fucking rock. He stopped a second, half-expecting a voice to push at him, to encourage him to run, to scream, to something.

  It didn’t happen though. His head was… his.

  "I don't know, baby." Poe had gotten them away from the fire, running like a goddamn movie hero while the fire had blown itself out pretty much in a big movie scene sort of way. There had been this green glow and a huge sucking noise and... yeah.

  Movie-like.

  Max and Poe were bent over Morgan, who was moaning but handling things pretty well, considering. God. That had to hurt. So bad.

  "What do you need? Gauze and burn cream?" How could he help? How could he make this less his fault?

  He was nudged out of the way, icy cold water splashing on his arm, making him shudder.

  "Water first, man. We gotta cool them off." Simon set the water bucket down and shoved Morgan's hands in, Morgan screaming at the cold.

  "Shhh. Oh, Sugar. I'm sorry." Max sounded lucid again, too. The only one still kinda out of it was Thom, who sat off to one side, rocking.

  "Thom. Babe. Come on. In the fucking water with you." Simon looked as grim as could be, grabbing the skinny guy up and shaking him. "The bitch can't have you. You're mine. Sworn to me."

  Cameron looked at Simon. At Morgan. At Poe. "You know, I hate Utah."

  "I hear you, babe." Those dark eyes twinkled at him a moment, Poe always able to see the ridiculous. "What we need now is some clean cloth. Gauze will do, but if we have a clean T-shirt or something..."

  "I'll look." He found a couple of clean shirts and a knife, bringing it back along with an unopened bottle of whiskey. They always had whiskey in the movies.

  Somewhere in the background, he could hear Thom screaming curses, calling Simon all sorts of shit. Screaming was way better than rocking, right? Right.

  "Jesus fuck, Simon, that's fucking freezing! You bastard! You’re trying to kill me!"

  Score one for the Scot, huh? Poe took all the stuff he handed over and he and Max muttered over Morgan a bit more. Then Poe was coming over to him, hands sliding up and down his arms.

  "How you doing, babe?"

  "Okay. Okay, I mean... not great, because fuck, but I feel... Like me. Clear headed. What the fuck is going on, Poe? What did I drag us into?"

  "Oh, we dragged ourselves. Not just you, huh? Now, we need to kill it. How do we do that?" Those arms felt good around him. Warm.

  He looked at his sleeve, at the dark spot drying on his arm.

  "Water. It's got to be the water, Poe, huh? Doesn't that make sense?" It did. It fucking did make sense. They had to take it to running water.

  "Okay. Water. Yeah, it always seems to help, huh?" The light started to dawn in Poe's eyes, like he could actually see the plan forming. "We'll need a map."

  "Okay. We have those. Lots of them." Poe wouldn’t leave those behind.

  "Yeah. I know. We'll need to find some kind of water big enough..." Poe's hands moved idly as he talked, those clever fingers skating over his chest.

  "Uh-huh." Oh. Oh, that felt nice.

  Real.

  Hot.

  "Are you listening, baby?" Oh, wait. Poe had been saying something... But he really wasn't listening.

  "Uh. No? Try again."

  "Are you okay?" Poe searched his face. "Is she talking again?"

  "Uh-uh. I was. You were touching me. It felt good."

  "It did?" Poe blinked. "It didn't make you feel crowded or oogy?"

  "It made me horny, Poe. Hard, you know?"

  "I'm not sure I remember that, baby." Laughing, Poe picked him up, literally picked him up and started carrying him. "Max! You got your boy?"

  "Got him," Max called back, sounding pretty solid.

  "Red?"

  "Life is good, asshole." Simon sounded damn near cheery.

  "Then we'll be, uh, out of touch a minute." Poe was taking him off in the opposite direction of the stone, up the hill.

  "Out of sight. Poe, man. I want to touch." Like right fucking now. “Need to.”

  "Yeah. Yeah, baby. Now." They got over the rise, Poe checking the danger areas before setting him down and kissing him silly.

  "Poe." He got his hands under Poe's shirt, pushing up hard against that fine chest. Oh. Oh, he needed this.

  "I got you, baby. I got you." Poe kissed him again and again, hauling his shirt off over his head.

  "Yeah." His fingers remembered how to unbuckle Poe's belt, get those old jeans open and off.

  "Oh, fuck, baby. More." Poe helped, pushing the denim, then getting his chinos off, until they were bare and rubbing.

  "More." His lips found Poe's neck, teeth scraping, tongue licking the salt right off.

  "I got your more, baby." Poe cupped his cock, thumb gliding along the underside.

  His head slammed back, knees trying to buckle at the touch.

  "Keep up, babe. I need you." Poe pulled him up, one hand on his cock, one on his ass. Those hands. They were like magic.

  "Yours." He was keeping up. He was keeping so up his balls ached. He reached down, worked Poe's cock with one thumb.

  "Oh. Mine." They rocked, Poe solid as a rock, holding them both up. They touched until they were both moaning, until Poe finally sank down on the hard ground and pulled him down on top.

  Their cocks lined up, and he went to town, rubbing and pushing. His lips crashed down on Poe's, tongue pushing into those hot lips. Poe sucked his tongue right in, loving on him, hands moving him faster and faster. Poe's cock felt like an iron brand against his, so hard and ready he figured the man would pop any minute.

  "Want you in me soon, huh?" Not now. Not now, it was too hot, too much and he needed too badly.

  "Soon. This is good, though. Yeah?" Poe pushed them together harder, stroking them, not teasing, driving them to completion.

  "Yeah. Yeah, good. Missed you." Hell, he'd missed him.

  "Me, too, baby. I missed you so bad. Kiss me some more." He didn't think he'd ever seen Poe so desperate. He nodded, tongue pushing into Poe's lips, tasting man and need and hunger. Better. So much better.

  "Cam. Come on, baby. You have to come on for me soon. I can't." Poe's head snapped back, the cords standing out in his neck, and Cam felt wet heat shoot across their bellies.

  "Poe." He gasped, lips fastening on Poe's neck as he shot, so hard he couldn't fucking breathe.

  "Oh. Oh, baby, I needed that." Poe actually sounded like his old self, albeit breathless.

  "Yeah. Yeah. I want to keep needing it, huh?"

  "Hell, yes." Patting his back, Poe kissed him, gentle this time, happy. "Welcome back, baby."

  "Thank you. Thank you." He let himself lean. "I'm not freaking out again."

  "No. We'll stop the bitch. We so will." Man, it was like Poe was gaining strength, not losing it, that broad chest rising and falling steadily under his hands.

  "Yeah. We will, and then we're getting the hell out of here. Together."

  ***

  Morgan's hands had been dunked in water and wrapped in the soft cloth, a pallet laid out for him and something rolled for a pillow. That was all they had until they got back to camp, but Morgan seemed to be resting okay.

  Max, well, he felt better in his head than he had in days. He felt like shit for letting Morgan get hurt, though. He really did.

  "How you doing, Sugar?"

  "They hurt. I guess that's what they're supposed to do, huh?" Morgan stared at him. "You're okay? No more bleeding? No more headache?"

  "Huh? No, no, I'm good. I'm sorry, Sugar. I surely am."

  "You didn't do this. We gotta destroy it, cowboy. We can't let it hurt you anymore."

  "I know. I know. We will. Poe... did you see him? He'll have a plan." As always, his buddy Poe had been rocking the cool and calm, seemingly unaffected by the stone.

  "He's pure evil, that man." Morgan actually winked at him.

  "Maybe so. He sure... uh. Well, you know that old tale." No sense rubbing Morgan's nose in ancient history. "You want a Coke? Some water? I think I have both in my backpack."

  "You'll have to help me hold it. I don't..." Morgan's eyes got panicky, wigged. "How bad are they? They'll be okay, right? My hands?"

  "They'll be fine." They would, actually. Max had seen a lot of burns in the oil fields. Morgan's were weirdly superficial, if damned painful.

  "Swear it." Morgan caught his gaze, little pointed chin set.

  "I swear, Sugar. You know I won't lie to you." He stared right into those black eyes, the little blue fleck making him want to smile.

  "Thank you." Morgan slumped, relaxing. "I was scared."

  "I know. So was I." Nothing had ever scared him more in his life. Not even that thing in the North Atlantic.

  Morgan shuffled around, leaning against him good and hard. "Yeah."

  Max wrapped his arms around that skinny-assed body, hugging tight, making sure not to hit those poor hands and forearms.

  "You smell like you again." Morgan's eyes closed, cheek rubbing against him.

  "I smelled wrong?" He sure had felt like a zombie. Zombie Max. That kinda tickled him. Braaaains. Y'all.

  "Yeah. Like you were sick. You smell like my cowboy now. Like home."

  "Good. You smell like a toasted marshmallow." Hey, it was the truth.