The Attraction by Douglas Clegg

desert.
    “Maybe it’s over,” Tammy said. She sat on the hood of the car, cross-legged. The fires comforted her.
    “Could be,” Josh said.
    “Someone has to feed the fire,” Bronwyn said.
    “We’ll take turns.” Then he noticed the doubtful look on Bronwyn’s face. “Someone will see this. There’s a town within twenty miles of here. The flare went up. Now we have a large fire.”
    “They may just think it’s a fire. Nobody lives up here. Nobody cares if there’s a fire,” Bronwyn said. “There’s not enough to burn.”
    “That’s not true,” Josh said. “Fires on the desert can get out of control. It can be devastating if it spreads. Someone will see this from a distance. I bet you can see it for miles.”
    “We can’t see a town. I’m not sure they can see us.”
    “Someone’s driving out there. Someone’s on the roads. They’ll see it and stop somewhere and maybe call the police,” he said. “You have to believe.”
    “I believe,” Tammy said. “I believe that Jesus Christ is my personal savior and is the son of the everlasting God.”
    “Good for you,” Josh said.
    “I’ll pray for all of us,” Tammy said.
    When Josh went around to make sure there was some dry brush to toss in one of the fires, Bronwyn followed him. “I didn’t want to say this in front of her.”
    “What’s that?”
    “Josh. How can this be happening? Can you tell me?” She seemed like a little girl, even with the cigarette hanging out of her mouth. “How is this humanly possible?”
    “I guess it’s not,” he said.
    She smoked some more, and he almost thought he saw tears streaming down her face. “Can you hold me?” she asked. “Right now. I know it’s . . .” She was about to say “weird,” he was certain, but he didn’t let her get to that word. He went over to her and put his arms around her. She laid her head against his shoulder and began sobbing. “We’ll get through this,” he whispered, smelling her hair and feeling weak and strong at the same time.
    9
    Tammy was the first to get sleepy, and Josh promised her that he’d stand guard. He told Bronwyn to go sleep for a bit, also. “We have the fire, and we know it doesn’t like fire. It’s not going to cross over to the car. But if it did, you’re inside a metal cage in that car. I doubt even obsidian claws can get through a car door,” he said.
    “Only if you sit in the car, too,” she said. “I want you safe.”
    Tammy and Bronwyn lay together across the backseat, using blankets and rolled-up clothes as pillows. Josh sat up front, his one hand on the gun, his other on the Bic lighter as if this would help ward off Scratch. He kept looking around, feeling like he heard things. He didn’t know what good it would do, but he locked the doors. He felt sleepy, but fought it. All the beer had done a number on him, and he felt exhausted and drained on top of that—but he didn’t want to sleep. Not that night. He was going to stay awake. He could sleep all day long if he had to, once they got to safety.
    Suddenly, without even thinking he’d closed his eyes, he was on a waterbed that undulated with gentle waves. Bronwyn and Tammy were there, too. They were both naked, kissing each other sweetly, nothing too dirty, and playing innocently with each other’s breasts. Tammy reached over and grabbed his hand and brought it down between her legs. Then they were not naked at all, nor were they the two women from his college. Instead, he was back home, and it was his mother and his aunt who grabbed his hands and were taking him to school. His aunt said, “You never told us that you didn’t pass your chemistry final.”
    “But I did,” he said, or tried to, but no one seemed to hear him. His mother gave him a stern look, and she let go of his hand. Suddenly he was back in high school, but it wasn’t full of high school students—instead, the children looked as if they were nine or ten. He was in elementary school—he was sure of it.