The Babysitter 2

Author:Orr, James [Orr, James]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2012-08-21T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

They left Sam’s house at eight and pedalled their arses through the pre-dawn streets of Brighton. The morning air cooled Adam’s face as he thrust his bicycle ahead of the morning traffic towards the Downs.

His father had employed Adam to take care of his son while he was in Australia. It was only for two weeks Adam had agreed.

Sam’s new bike was a birthday present from his dad. The trip to the Downs was its first real outing.

Adam loved the Sussex Downs, away from the traffic of the city, high up with fantastic views of East and West Sussex.

By the time they reached the precipitous access path, they were sweating in the sunshine air. They slid around the barrier that prevented motorised vehicles from entering the trail, let go of their brakes, and flew down the steep path.

Adam’s arse was up and the wind was whistling through the slits in his helmet when I saw a cyclist coasting obliviously toward the intersection.

Instinctively, I thrust his bottom back to balance his weight and squeezed his brakes. His tires squeaked horribly. Though the approaching cyclist skidded sideways, his rear wheel rose and Adam sailed over his handlebars and landed in a thicket of blackberries. The crash knocked the breath out of him; as he drew a labouring gasp, I did not for a moment know where he was or what had happened. Gradually I became aware of a voice hailing from beyond

“Holy shit. You took one hell of a spill,” Sam exclaimed. “The other guy just took off.”

When Adam failed to respond, Sam called, “Hey, are you hurt? Can you talk?”

After a minute's reflection Adam concluded that he was not receiving a greeting from an angel. The words “holy shit” rendered a heavenly encounter unlikely.

“I'm okay,” Adam assured him, but when he tried to move he discovered that the vines were holding him. He heard the sound of ripping Lycra and felt a painful stinging sensation, accompanied by a breeze.

“Wait,” Sam called. “Stop moving. You're ripping your shorts. You've got blackberry vines wrapped around your waist, and they're clinging to your backside.”

Still, Adam attempted to free himself, but he was entangled and every tug resulted in further tearing and more pain. Whenever he got a grip on one long green vine, another stalk attacked him with its thorns.

“Hold still, man. You're tearing yourself up. Just wait. I'm coming in to help you.”

Like a conquering hero, Sam braved the blackberry bushes and pulled long, thorny trailers aside while Adam struggled clear. Clutching his arm with one strong hand and supporting his arse with the other, he helped Adam rise. If it hadn't been for the thorns, he would have warmed to the touch of his hand.

“Ouch!” Adam yelped as Sam grabbed a particularly sensitive spot on his right buttock. In spite of his embarrassed howls, he assisted Adam back to the path and examined his wounds.

“Oh shit, your skin is all scratched, and your arse is hanging out of your bicycle shorts. You'd better strip so I can pull out the thorns.

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