The Cabin in the Woods

Holden sat back down beside her, closer than ever, and placed his arm across the back of the sofa behind her. It wasn’t a secretive move, and his hand rested easily on her shoulder. Dana leaned sideways until her head touched his shoulder and thought, Maybe it’ll be an okay evening after all. Maybe Curt just needs to get laid, and Jules is drunk on first-night excitement, and Marty… Marty’s just high.

But then as the flames sparked higher she thought of Holden’s translation of the Latin she’d read out: The pain outlives the flesh. And even through the fresh heat she felt goosebumps prickling her arms.

Jules ran. Perspiration was cooling all over her, chilling her, making her muscles seem frozen and her skin prickle with a million points of ice.

Footsteps pounded behind her, closing, closing, and she put on an extra spurt of speed. The darkness did not slow her, and neither did the feel of spider webs breaking across her face and neck as she ducked between trees. Maybe she was more drunk than she thought, or perhaps it was just the thrill of the chase. The chase, she’d always known, was better than the catch, and maybe that was why she’d always had guys in the palm of her hand.

There were her looks, sure; she knew she was a scorcher. But she also knew what guys wanted, and when, perhaps better than they. There was a difference between leading them on toward nothing, and racing them toward something.

So she ran, giggling, breathing hard, skirting the lake to her right and curving around into a part of the woods they hadn’t seen before. And just when she judged the moment was right she slowed a little, feeling Curt’s arm close around her waist as he skidded to a stop and swept her from her feet. Her legs kicked up and he turned, bringing her around to stand again before him.

In his other hand he was still carrying his beer cup, most of it spilled now, but some still glinting in the bottom. He was grinning. Breathing hard. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him quite like this, but then she also felt…

Different, she thought. And horny as all hell. The afternoon’s shower escapades had, it seemed, been just a prelude.

“Come here!” he said, pulling her close, the remaining beer slopping from the cup.

“Ah! Don’t spill on me!”

“Thought you liked it when I spilled on you.”

“Your beer, pig.” But Jules giggled, writhing in his grasp.

“Did I get a little beer on your shirt?” He kissed her deep and hard. “I guess it’ll have to come off.” He threw the beer cup away and started plucking at her buttons. She pulled back playfully, shirt stretching.

“Not here,” she teased.

“Oh, come on…” He paused and looked around, grinning. “We’re all alone.” He pulled her shirt open but she caught the edge and held it together again, stepping back, enjoying the chase just a little more. She was aching for him, but the ache would be more satisfyingly tended the longer this preamble continued. Curt knew that too, but his eyes were almost animal with lust now.

“I’m chilly,” she said, pouting as Curt advanced on her. Like a big bear, she thought. Here comes my big bear.

A groan passed through the crowd of assembled onlookers. The girl backed away again, shirt tight across her chest, even though they could all see the sweat beaded on her face.

It was going well. It was going to plan. But Sitterson was keen to speed things along. Time might be running out, and he wanted to see-

“Okay, that’s enough,” Hadley said, standing from his desk. “Everybody out. You’ve all got jobs to do.” He waved them toward the exit, and nodded to Truman to hold the door open for all of them.

Just like Hadley, Sitterson thought, smiling. He’s never liked watching the fucking with too many people around him.

After the other workers had been herded out his friend sat again, then wheeled his chair expertly across. Sitterson knew immediately what Hadley was going to ask. “We got temperature control in that sector?”

“On it,” Sitterson said, smiling. He’d already been notching the temperature up, subtly but noticeably. He opened a window on his computer and nudged the touch-screen thermometer up a little more. “It’ll be tropical in there within minutes,” he said.

“Nice,” Hadley replied. He was back at his own station now, tapping away on his own computer. “Okay, engaging the pheromone mists.”