<h2 title="Chapter Six"><SPAN name="p59" id="p59"></SPAN><span class="pagenum"><span class="ns">[p</span>59<span class="ns">]<br/></span></span>CHAPTER SIX</h2>
<p>Nick awoke to sunlight streaming into his face
and had a momentary impression that it was dawn;
then he realized that the sunlight had a reddish
cast to it. He blinked at the bedroom clock,
amazed to find that he had slept until late afternoon.</p>
<p>My God, he thought groggily.</p>
<p>His headache was nearly gone, he noticed as he
threw off the covers and swung his long legs to
the floor. The soreness was still there, thumping
dully in his stiff muscles, but sleep had been
deep and brought no fresh nightmares to worry
about. He cleaned himself up in the bathroom and
got a pair of slacks and a shirt from the closet,
still feeling somewhat like a stranger. While he
dressed himself, he thought of the woman he was
married to.</p>
<p>Despite the feeling of being a stranger in a
strange world, and of being caught up in a strange
set of circumstances, he found himself feeling
delightful tremors when he thought of Beth. Even
now, there was a tight, fluttering sensation in his
insides when he thought of the talcumed satin of
her skin, the warm lift of her brightly<!-- TN: no hyphen in original --> nippled
breasts and the strong response of her rounded
thighs. She was a beautiful woman. She was sex
all rolled up in a frame of gentle curves and soft
flesh, and he could see that to love a woman like
her would not only be easy, it would be a privilege.</p>
<p>He buckled the belt about his waist, trying to
dispel the thoughts of the woman, and went downstairs
to the kitchen. Hunger gnawed at him
<SPAN name="p60" id="p60"></SPAN><span class="pagenum"><span class="ns">[p</span>60<span class="ns">]
</span></span>violently.</p>
<p>The coffee was cold. He turned the gas on under
it and the note on the table caught his eye. He
picked it up to scan it briefly.</p>
<div class="bethnote">
<p>DARLING,</p>
<p class="dblindent">HAD TO RUSH OFF TO WORK. KISSED YOU
GOOD-BY AND YOU SAID “GLUMPTH”. BE
HOME SOON. LOVE YOU TERRIBLY.</p>
<p class="sig">BETH</p>
</div>
<p>He grinned at the note, balled it into his fist
and threw it into the paper can. When the coffee
was hot, he poured himself a cup and fixed a
couple of sandwiches with what was left of the
package of cold meat. As he was finishing the
last couple of bites of the sandwich, he heard the
thud of the evening paper against the front door.
For a moment, it startled him, then, when he
had realized what it was, he was half out of the
chair... He paused there momentarily, then sank
back into his seat. He <em>couldn’t</em> go out there and
get the paper - if the neighbors saw him picking
it up ... He sat there, waiting for Beth to come
home, the suspense digging into his guts with
ragged teeth. Had they found the plane? Were
they onto him? Who were those two men? How
did they know where to find him? Why were they
looking for him?</p>
<p>He drank damned near the whole pot of coffee
and watched the hands of the electric clock move
with agonizing slowness. Finally, at five forty,
Beth drove up to the house and came through the
door. Nick leaped from the chair.</p>
<p>“The paper!” He snatched it from her hands
and began tearing it open. Damn newsboys for
<SPAN name="p61" id="p61"></SPAN><span class="pagenum"><span class="ns">[p</span>61<span class="ns">]
</span></span>folding them!</p>
<p>“Nick! Aren’t you going to kiss me?”</p>
<p>“Huh? Oh.” He kissed her briefly, fleetingly,
and returned to the paper. The crash was on
page one.</p>
<div class="newsitem">
<h3 title="">WRECKAGE OF PRIVATE AIRCRAFT FOUND</h3>
<p class="noindent">Everett, Pa. The smouldering wreckage of what
was apparently a private plane was found late
yesterday evening in the heavily wooded area north
of the city by a young Boy Scout looking for a
campsite.</p>
<p>Benjamin Talbot, aged 13, after locating the
mangled aircraft, promptly called local police
who dispatched Detective Lieutenant Nolan Brice,
Everett Rescue Squad and FAA investigator Arron
P. Dickson to examine the wreckage.</p>
<p>“It’s the most unusual crash site I’ve ever
seen,” FAA investigator Dickson told local newsmen.
“There’s no evidence of wings or tail assembly.
The fuselage<!-- TN: original reads 'fusilage' --> is also of a strange design.”</p>
<p>Detective Lieutenant Brice, after checking with
the airport tower at Everett, and with CAP officials,
informed newsmen that no private aircraft
had been reported in trouble, or even over the
particular area in which the craft was found. “Of
course,” Lieutenant Brice added, “one plane may
have gone unnoticed. This is highly unlikely, but we
cannot overlook the possibility. What is puzzling,
to me, is that the aircraft has not been identified
and there have been no bodies found.”</p>
<p>“The Civil Air Patrol,” Mr. Dickson commented,
“has been most cooperative and are now
engaged in an air search of the area, while rescue
squads work in the mountains.”</p>
<p><SPAN name="p62" id="p62"></SPAN><span class="pagenum"><span class="ns">[p</span>62<span class="ns">]<br
/></span></span>Mr. Dickson went on to state that the mystery
crash will be thoroughly investigated by authorities
in an effort to determine the make and model
of the plane, as well as the fate of its occupants.</p>
<p>At present, the crash site has been roped off and
placed under guard by local Militiamen. Only
authorized personnel will be allowed to view the
wreckage. Major Gilbert Donnoue, of the Air
Force Experimental Wing, refused to make a
statement as to whether the plane was of Air
Force origin. “To my knowledge, we have lost
no test planes. However, an extensive check will
undoubtedly be run to verify this.”</p>
</div>
<p>Test plane? Nick stared in amazement at the
words that leaped at him from the printed page.
Test plane? What the hell was going on in this
screwy world? No wings? No tail assembly? No
Mayday calls? No record of the plane? The whole
damned thing sounded ridiculous. Coupled with the
fact that he had been out of touch for thirteen
months, it all became weird.</p>
<p>And to top it all off, Nolan Brice was one of the
men who had been placed on the investigating
staff at the crash scene. Suppose he, Nick, had
left something at the scene ... a fraternity pin,
a slip of paper ... anything that would link the
crash to the fact that he was alive and in Everett.
The whole damned bunch would be on his tail,
before you could say, “Jack Robinson.” He...</p>
<p>“Nick,” Beth pouted. “Will you pay a little
attention to me for a change?”</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, honey, but it’s the plane.” While
she listened he read the account aloud and, when
he’d finished, they exchanged glances. “That’s
the plane I was in,” he told her.</p>
<p><SPAN name="p63" id="p63"></SPAN><span class="pagenum"><span class="ns">[p</span>63<span class="ns">]<br
/></span></span>“But you don’t know how to fly.”</p>
<p>“I must know, unless someone else flew it.
That’s the plane I woke up beside. I must have
been in the damned thing. But I don’t know if
anyone else was.” He buried his face in his hands.</p>
<p>“Nick. Should we call the police?”</p>
<p>“No!”</p>
<p>Alarmed at his violent outburst, she put her
hand on his shoulder to comfort him. “All right
dear. I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>“It’d been different, if those men weren’t after
me. I’d call the police if they weren’t dogging my
tracks. I’d turn myself in just to find out what the
hell’s going on.”</p>
<p>“Me too,” she said softly.</p>
<p>At first he didn’t catch the meaning behind her
words, then he blinked. “What?” He asked.</p>
<p>“The car, the black one. It followed me to work
this morning.” She paused, then added, “It didn’t
follow me home though.”</p>
<p>Nick slammed the paper to the floor, his lean
jaw muscles knotted in anger. “That settles it,”
he snapped. “I can face whatever I’m mixed up
in, but there’s no earthly reason why you should
be subjected to it! I’ll have to get out!”</p>
<p>Beth threw herself into his arms, the ever<!-- TN: no hyphen in original --> ready
tears welling in her eyes. “No, Nick,” she pleaded.
“Whatever it is, we’ll fight it. We’ll make out, but
darling, don’t leave me again!”</p>
<p>He held her tightly against<!-- TN: original reads 'aginst' --> him, his hands stroking
the warm softness of her back and spine. The
perfume of her hair filled him with a heady thought
of summer fields of flowers, of sweetness and
tenderness, of ... love. Love. Nick Danson, he told
himself, you <em>are</em> mixed up. You’re falling in love
with your own wife.</p>
<p><SPAN name="p64" id="p64"></SPAN><span class="pagenum"><span class="ns">[p</span>64<span class="ns">]<br
/></span></span>“... and we’ll go away,” Beth was whispering
in his ear. “We’ll pack everything and go far away,
where we’ll never see these men again. Nick.
Please. Oh, please keep me with you.”</p>
<p>“Going away won’t settle anything, sweetheart.
They’ll always be there, just outside the door.
I’ve got to do something...”</p>
<p>He broke off suddenly and it flicked into his
mind like a film of the past, like a memory. The
soft face of the girl, her hair a golden color against
the backdrop of the ochre mountains ... the softness
of the pale blue-green tree... She spun away
from him, the loose, filmy blue dress whirling
about her trim ankles ... then she was coming
back to him, arms outstretched ... kissing him
lovingly...</p>
<p>He shut it off, clamped it from his mind. A
memory! A memory that made no sense at all.
A tremor of fear ran along his spine and trembled
in his flesh. What did it mean? What was happening
to him?</p>
<p>“Nick?” It was Beth. “What is it, Nick? You
look pale and frightened.”</p>
<p>“Nothing. We’ll go away.”</p>
<p>She beamed. “I know just the place. The cabin.
Far up in the mountains. No one will know we’re
there. We’ll learn to love each other again.”</p>
<p>“You have to work,” he pointed out.</p>
<p>She nodded. “That’s true, still <em>you</em> could go
up there and try to puzzle this all out. I can come
up in the evenings, and on weekends<!-- TN: original reads 'week ends' -->.”<!-- TN: original lacks closing quote --></p>
<p>“Might be a good idea,” he admitted, thinking
that at least, he’d be safe from prying eyes.</p>
<p>“Then it’s settled. You go sit somewhere and
I’ll get things packed.”</p>
<p>She whisked away, almost running up the stairs
<SPAN name="p65" id="p65"></SPAN><span class="pagenum"><span class="ns">[p</span>65<span class="ns">]
</span></span>to pack some things for him. He walked to the
kitchen, without turning on a light, and poured
himself a glass of water. Outside, through the
window, he could see the twilight fading into
evening, the heavy purple clouds of night sweeping
steadily across the sky. A star winked later and
he knew it. Venus. He stood there in the darkness
and picked out many of them as they flickered
into being. Mars. Sirius, Vega and others. There
were...</p>
<p class="tb"> </p>
<p>... She came into his arms and talk was insignificant
and quite unnecessary. The soft, white
arms wound about his neck, tugging fingers pulled
playfully at his hair and she smiled at him. His
lips moved down against hers and they were lost
in themselves. He could feel the taut pressure of
her breasts playing against his chest and the
firm roundness of her thighs working against
his.</p>
<p>Her strong fingers worked against the muscles
of his shoulders, pulling him down onto the
cottony moss beneath the strange tree. The small
litheness of her body molded into his and his
hands stroked her breasts beneath the filmy cloth
that covered them. Her hands moved upward to
the straps that swept over her shoulders and
pulled them down. His eager fingers helped her,
working the straps down until the firm mounds
of her breasts lifted their rubbery, coral tipped
nipples toward the sky. His fingers worked them,
kneaded<!-- TN: original reads 'kneeded' --> the warm muscles, while his mouth
worked on hers. When he had released her lips,
she pulled his face down into the twin cushions
of her breasts. His hand moved against the flesh
<SPAN name="p66" id="p66"></SPAN><span class="pagenum"><span class="ns">[p</span>66<span class="ns">]
</span></span>of her thighs, caressingly...</p>
<p class="tb"> </p>
<p>“Ready, dear?”</p>
<p>It was gone. Like that. A sudden flickering
memory of some long vanished event that might
have given him some hope. It had been fantastic
again, the strange colors and the weird landscape,
but he wanted it despite that. She had
stolen it, ripped it viciously from his mind; but
she was not to blame. He turned and smiled at
her as she came into the kitchen.</p>
<p>She had turned on a soft light in the front room,
but had allowed the kitchen to remain dark. In
the half-light of the room, he thought that she
was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
It would not be hard to love her, he thought again.</p>
<p>He reached out and took her by the shoulders,
pulling her gently against him to kiss her. Her
mouth moved against his, satiny with desire,
until they parted.</p>
<p>“I’m ready, if you are,” he said.</p>
<p>“For what, darling? The bedroom, or the car?”</p>
<p>He chuckled. “The car. The bedroom will keep
until we’re up in the woods.”</p>
</div>
<div class="chapter">
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