Higher Ground by Becky Black (most read books of all time .txt) 📕

protested, sitting up, which sent pain lancing through his back. “Ow.”

“Come here.” Adam sat cross-legged near Zach’s feet and pulled off his socks. “Hmm, taking my life in my hands here,” he said. “I may need some industrial-strength soap first.” Nevertheless, he took Zach’s left foot in both hands, rested it on his lap, and started massaging it. He dug strong thumbs into the sole, and Zach groaned with a mix of pain and relief.

“Oh God, Adam. So good.”

“Not so loud,” Adam said, grinning. “People will get the wrong idea.” He swapped to the other foot. “Your feet need to harden up, city boy.”

Adam’s hands were large. A gardener’s hands, even if he was a scientist like Zach. A working man’s hands, with rough spots and calluses capable of producing thrills when he caressed the sensitive skin of Zach’s feet. Goose bumps rose on his back, sweeping down in a wave of sensation. His legs felt boneless from the foot massage, and he sighed and closed his eyes, beginning to drift toward sleep. No. He made himself wake. He didn’t want to sleep. Adam. Want Adam. Must make love to Adam. Seize the day.

“Relax,” Adam said softly, his thumbs pressing hard into the sole. “You’ve had a rough day. You need to rest.”

“Rough day. Yes. Hard to lose all those people.” His voice caught in his throat. He wanted to put the situation out of his mind and enjoy this time with Adam, but the sense of grief and failure attacked again at the first chance he gave it.

“They’re not lost,” Adam said. “Nothing’s happened yet. There’s still time for them to turn around again.”

“What if nothing does happen?”

“We all go home and talk about crazy Zach Benesh for years to come.”

“I don’t know how good a person I am,” Zach said quietly. “I’m actually torn between wanting to be right and wanting to be wrong. Surely that’s bad. My academic pride should be nothing in comparison to all those people back in town who will die if I’m right. What kind of person could feel that way?”

“A human one. And I feel the same. I want you to be wrong, for all those people, but I want you to be right because I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.” He rested Zach’s foot on his lap, tracing a finger along the tops of the toes. “Even if you’re wrong, I’ll stand beside you. You’re not getting rid of me so easily.”

“I never want to be rid of you.” Zach reached up to pull Adam down by the shoulders, stretching up to kiss him. Adam. So strong and ready to go on standing at Zach’s side. He had nothing to fear with Adam at his side.

“Let’s get into the sleeping bag,” Adam said. “I’m cold.”

They stripped the rest of their clothes off, except shorts and Adam’s socks, and zipped themselves into the bag. Zach lay still for a few minutes, eyes closed but not surrendering to sleep. Simply enjoying all the sensations of being here together. The warmth of Adam’s skin against his. The sound of his breathing, the movement as his chest rose and fell, pressing closer and then relaxing. The scent of him, sweat and soap. His hair, bed-head wild and a little damp from the rain, tickled Zach’s shoulder, like the soft touch of a butterfly on his skin.

“I want a thousand nights like this,” Adam said softly.

“Only a thousand? That’s less than three Earth years.”

“I was being poetic, not mathematical.”

“Oh. Of course.” Zach traced circles on Adam’s chest with his fingertips. “Adam…I’m not asking you to promise me anything. This isn’t a normal situation. I know we have to wait and see how things turn out.” Zach knew they had to let things become more normal before they could be sure they had anything more than a short thing here. If they had even that thousand nights. He hoped so. He hoped they had a long, normal, dull old time to spend on each other and not on climbing a mountain.

“Maybe we should get some sleep,” Adam said. “Get a few hours rest before we take the watch.”

No. Zach remained determined to seize every chance to be with Adam. He might be nearly asleep before he came—like on the first night of the hike—but he wouldn’t miss a chance again. He started nuzzling Adam’s neck and ear.

“Or we could have sex, I guess,” Adam said, voice full of amusement. “Works for me.” He slid his hand into Zach’s shorts and stroked his rapidly hardening cock.

Zach moaned, his head going back, body arching and pressing harder into Adam’s hand. Between the stroking hand and the hypnotic rhythm of the rain on the canvas, he began to drift to a different world, a different plane of reality, even. Nothing outside this tent existed. It was the whole universe, containing only him and Adam, in a bubble of desire and pleasure.

Until the dogs started barking.

All of them.

“What the hell?” Adam muttered. “What’s set them off?”

“An animal maybe?” The Terraforming Institute had introduced some wildlife into the area, most of it quite small. “Forget the dogs. Don’t stop, please, don’t stop.”

Adam chuckled. “I love it when you beg for—”

The earth moved. Not in the way Zach had been waiting for. First came a low rumble like nothing he’d ever heard before. It became a roar as the ground first trembled and then shook under them. The dogs went berserk, howling and barking frantically. People screamed. Zach and Adam clung together, staring at each other, eyes wide, faces pale. Around them, their possessions danced and toppled.

Zach couldn’t think—a terrifying state for him. It was worse, much worse, than the minor quake of a few months ago. The horrible, fundamentally wrong phenomenon, the solid ground trembling, activated such a basic, primitive terror in him it swamped all higher thought. He felt like no more than a caveman, wondering why the ground shook and fearing he’d angered the gods.

The roar faded.