The League of Night and Fog by David Morrell

Author:David Morrell
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Mystery, Suspense, Thriller
ISBN: 9780345519276
Publisher: Ballantine Books
Published: 1987-01-01T06:00:00+00:00

7

His first impression was that Erika’s horrified face swirling above him was just another vision of her face that had acted as a beacon, drawing him onward through the storm. A dim part of his remaining consciousness jabbed him, however, rousing him into the understanding that he’d reached the door and been granted admission into the cave.

His second impression was of a far-off hissing light. A naphtha-fueled lantern. Its almost mystical glow revealed shelves of canned food and bottled water, a white plastic box with a red cross stenciled on it, coats, shirts, socks, and pants, a two-way radio.

His third impression, and the most important, was of warmth. It pained him. He squirmed, groaning as Erika dragged him toward the lantern. He realized that a kerosene-fueled heater stood next to the lamp, that a tube in the ceiling was venting the heater’s gases. The tingle of warmth upon his skin made him cringe. Erika’s urgent embrace was excruciating. He tried to protest but was powerless.

The Swiss woman slammed the cave door shut, blocking out the wind and snow. She ran to touch Saul’s forehead. “His temperature’s too low. His body can’t warm itself.”

Saul understood. The core of heat in his body was like a furnace. If the furnace stopped working, outside heat wouldn’t help him. The heat had to come from within. The furnace had to be made to start generating again.

“He’ll die if …”

“Blankets,” Erika said.

“They won’t be enough.”

“We’ll heat up some cocoa.”

The woman shook her head. “Hot cocoa won’t be enough either. Besides, he doesn’t have the strength to swallow it.”

“What then? How can I save my husband?”

“Your body heat.”

“What? I don’t understand.”

“Use your body heat!”

Erika understood. She tugged off Saul’s wet clothes. He shivered, clutching his arms across his chest. She grabbed a sleeping bag from a shelf, unrolled it beside him, and opened its zipper. She laid him onto it and tugged it shut.

The sleeping bag was thick and soft.

But cold. “So cold,” he murmured.

In the glow from the lamp, he saw Erika take off her own clothes. She threw everything—jacket, blouse, slacks, shoes, socks, bra, panties—into a corner and scurried into the sleeping bag with him.

She squeezed down beside him, put her arms around him, and pressed her breasts, stomach, and thighs against him. The sleeping bag was almost too small for both their bodies. Though her embrace was painful, he felt the down of the sleeping bag trap her warmth. Heat radiated from her onto him. She wedged a knee between his legs, her thigh between his own. She kissed his cheeks, his neck, his shoulders. She breathed deeply, repeatedly against his chest, anything to smother him with warmth.

The embrace was the most intimate he’d ever experienced. Her urgent attempt to enfold his skin with her own, to thrust her heat into him, to meld her body with his, was a more complete union than he’d ever imagined was possible. Their bodies became the most sensitive organs each possessed, a totality of their separate senses.

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