trying to tell you what to do, just warning you. There are dangerous animals out there. If you're trying to get photos of the moon, you should probably go back into town; there's a satellite tower there. I know the mayor, and I could get access for you.” He smiled at me, revealing white, perfect teeth.
But I shook my head, resolved.
“I'm sorry, Mark,” I told him, “but I've been given orders by my employer to take my photos from the mountain. I want to get the landscape in my shots. I appreciate the offer, though. I'm Helen.” I extended my hand and he took it. His grip was firm, and his hand was hot. I nearly jumped when I felt the heat of his palm.
Mark sighed.
“There's nothing I can do to stop you,” he said. “But just remember to be careful.” His words seemed genuine – he really seemed to care about my well-being. His gaze was intense as he spoke; his eyes were hypnotic. I felt a hot, pulsing need inside me. My hand longed to reach out and touch his sweaty abdomen...
“I'll be fine,” I said.
“Remember to light a fire,” he said. “It scares away the animals.” He picked up his ax from the ground, and arranged a log in front of him.
I nodded, and began to turn away from him, back toward the road that led into the national park. But then I stopped. I couldn't ignore the feeling inside me any more. My heart drummed in my chest as I spoke once more.
“Mark?” I said.
He stopped his ax mid swing and turned to look at me again.
“When I get back, tomorrow,” I began. “Would you like to show me around the town?” I felt weak, almost dizzy with nervousness as I spoke. I had never asked a man out before.
His face broke out into a grin, showing those immaculate white teeth again. My heart melted at his expression, and then instantly froze with anticipation, as I awaited his answer.
“Sure,” he said.
I continued along the road towards the national park, giddy with joy.
What had come over me? I'd never been able to ask out a guy before. The attraction had just been too powerful to resist. As Mark's house fell further and further behind me, I turned around to get one last glimpse of him.
He was still standing in the same place, leaning on his ax, his torso gleaming in the sun, as he watched me go. A shiver of anticipation ran down my spine. I was going to see him again. Tomorrow.
The air grew chill as I hiked into the national park. But it was beautiful. I was surrounded by immense pine trees, through which fog swirled and golden sunshine flowed. The air was fresh with the scent of pine as I reached the path that climbed the mountain.
The mountain looked immense from the foot of it, but I knew that I would reach my pre-arranged vantage point within a few hours. I had a detailed map, which my project manager had given to me. I was used to navigating through places like this, having worked in nature photography for the past few years.
But as I made my way up the mountain, a strange feeling began to unsettle me. And then I realized what it was:
The silence.
The forest was too quiet. Usually places like this are teeming with the subtle sounds of life – bird calls especially. But here there was nothing. Like the calm before a storm. The hair on the back of my neck was standing up again. I began to feel as if I was being followed. Fear swirled darkly inside me. I kept getting the urge to turn and look behind me. Each time there was nothing.
The way up the mountain became more difficult, steeper than before, and I soon became absorbed in struggling up it. I tried to push away the unsettling sense of being followed, tried to forget it. But still it persisted, niggling in the back of my mind.
The shadows grew longer, reached out to me from the pine trees. The moon began to rise as I arrived at the grassy knoll halfway up the mountain, where I was to camp. The moon was enormous and brilliant as it ascended from the swaying wall of pine trees. After setting up camp and lighting a fire, as
But I shook my head, resolved.
“I'm sorry, Mark,” I told him, “but I've been given orders by my employer to take my photos from the mountain. I want to get the landscape in my shots. I appreciate the offer, though. I'm Helen.” I extended my hand and he took it. His grip was firm, and his hand was hot. I nearly jumped when I felt the heat of his palm.
Mark sighed.
“There's nothing I can do to stop you,” he said. “But just remember to be careful.” His words seemed genuine – he really seemed to care about my well-being. His gaze was intense as he spoke; his eyes were hypnotic. I felt a hot, pulsing need inside me. My hand longed to reach out and touch his sweaty abdomen...
“I'll be fine,” I said.
“Remember to light a fire,” he said. “It scares away the animals.” He picked up his ax from the ground, and arranged a log in front of him.
I nodded, and began to turn away from him, back toward the road that led into the national park. But then I stopped. I couldn't ignore the feeling inside me any more. My heart drummed in my chest as I spoke once more.
“Mark?” I said.
He stopped his ax mid swing and turned to look at me again.
“When I get back, tomorrow,” I began. “Would you like to show me around the town?” I felt weak, almost dizzy with nervousness as I spoke. I had never asked a man out before.
His face broke out into a grin, showing those immaculate white teeth again. My heart melted at his expression, and then instantly froze with anticipation, as I awaited his answer.
“Sure,” he said.
I continued along the road towards the national park, giddy with joy.
What had come over me? I'd never been able to ask out a guy before. The attraction had just been too powerful to resist. As Mark's house fell further and further behind me, I turned around to get one last glimpse of him.
He was still standing in the same place, leaning on his ax, his torso gleaming in the sun, as he watched me go. A shiver of anticipation ran down my spine. I was going to see him again. Tomorrow.
The air grew chill as I hiked into the national park. But it was beautiful. I was surrounded by immense pine trees, through which fog swirled and golden sunshine flowed. The air was fresh with the scent of pine as I reached the path that climbed the mountain.
The mountain looked immense from the foot of it, but I knew that I would reach my pre-arranged vantage point within a few hours. I had a detailed map, which my project manager had given to me. I was used to navigating through places like this, having worked in nature photography for the past few years.
But as I made my way up the mountain, a strange feeling began to unsettle me. And then I realized what it was:
The silence.
The forest was too quiet. Usually places like this are teeming with the subtle sounds of life – bird calls especially. But here there was nothing. Like the calm before a storm. The hair on the back of my neck was standing up again. I began to feel as if I was being followed. Fear swirled darkly inside me. I kept getting the urge to turn and look behind me. Each time there was nothing.
The way up the mountain became more difficult, steeper than before, and I soon became absorbed in struggling up it. I tried to push away the unsettling sense of being followed, tried to forget it. But still it persisted, niggling in the back of my mind.
The shadows grew longer, reached out to me from the pine trees. The moon began to rise as I arrived at the grassy knoll halfway up the mountain, where I was to camp. The moon was enormous and brilliant as it ascended from the swaying wall of pine trees. After setting up camp and lighting a fire, as
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