Forced Conversion by Donald J. Bingle

Author:Donald J. Bingle [Bingle, Donald J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Science Fiction, General
ISBN: 9781594142543
Google: tGccAAAACAAJ
Amazon: B0050YUXXU
Publisher: Five Star
Published: 2004-10-15T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

She swam toward the shore of the mountain lake, then stood and strode to him, clean, fresh, and pure. Rivulets of bright water flashed and sparkled as they tumbled down her firm body. She made no effort to cover her nakedness and gave no disapproving look as he surveyed it. Instead she smiled and ruffled her hair with one hand to help it dry, laughing gaily in the rosy hues of the setting sun. A mischievous wink greeted him from her perfect face.

Derek smiled back and stood from the rocker to embrace her, his arms engulfing her and his clean plaid shirt soaking up the residual moisture from her swim. After a long, deep kiss, they sauntered arm in arm toward their cozy alpine retreat, isolated and safe from everyone and everything. There, they would make love on the big pine bed and, afterwards, she would whisper his name as they snuggled on the couch, looking out the big picture window at the moonlit valleys below.

“Derek.”

He smiled with contentment.

“Derek.” Her voice was harsher and louder than should be.

“Derek. Hey, ConFoe!”

Derek awoke on the rocking chair. His body ached. His clothes were covered with dirt and caked with dry blood. His neck was purple with bruises from his recent battle with the ferret-boy. Maria stood over him in clean, practical clothes scavenged from the cabin after the battle. The hermit’s cabin loomed unpleasantly behind her, the doorjamb splintered, a gaping maw ringed with sharp talons of glass where the picture window once was, and bloody boot-prints tracked across the boards of the once-pretty porch.

He blinked twice, but the grim harshness of reality would not blink away. The soft focus and golden hue of a few moments before would not return. He had been dreaming. He rubbed his face with his hands. At least it had been a pleasant dream, much more pleasant than he had dreamt in a long, long time. Even his dreams were shitty since he became a ConFoe.

He looked up at Maria, his eyes squinting in the morning light.

“Your turn,” she said, gesturing with her head toward the lake, out of sight to the side of the cabin. A few scrapes and bruises had joined the older scar on her face, but the new badges of battle were clean and none looked to leave any permanent mark. She continued, “You might want to scrounge whatever you want before you wash up. Me, I’m never going into that charnel house again.” She strode away to a stack of food, clothing, and other supplies she had gathered before her bath and began loading them into a backpack that used to belong to Kyle.

And there it was. Another moment that decided his fate without any real input from him at all. All dreams of leaving the troubles of both the real and virtual worlds behind and taking up with Maria to live in Kyle’s and Henrietta’s cabin safe from the ConFoes and the mals vanished in the blink of an eye, like a magician’s flash paper.

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