Chapter 23

CHAPTER 23

We start off the trip into the peninsula, not by hiking, but by ATV. When we all met by the totem pole just as the sun was coming over the ridge, we were led by Nick over to the ATVs parked in the maintenance yard. Kincaid showed up a minute later, then Dr. Hernandez with a cart full of supplies, plus tents, one to each person.

It was hard not to look at Kincaid, to pretend that we hadn't been in each other's arms until his alarm went off at 5 a.m. and I had to run to my room to shower and get ready. It helps that I'm so exhausted I can barely see straight.

But the ATV is waking me up. I'm sitting beside Lauren and Munawar. Rav and Patrick are in the front beside Dr. Hernandez who is driving us to our drop-off point. The other two vehicles are driven by Nick and Kincaid, taking the rest of the students and supplies. I purposely picked the one with Hernandez, which prompted an odd look from Lauren. Truth is, I need some space away from Kincaid to clear my head—I'm so afraid that everything we did last night is visible, like he scrawled his lust on my body. Which I suppose he did, but those rope marks are hidden.

And I wasn't about to sit with Nick, not after the baby goat incident. Now that I've seen that dark side of him, now that I've seen his surfer persona is an act, I don't want anything to do with the guy. He officially gives me the heebie jeebies. Between him and Michael, I wonder who will give me the creeps at Madrona next.

The trip on the ATV is supposed to take about 90 minutes, following a logging road as it heads toward the peninsula. The weather isn't as beautiful as it was yesterday. There's morning fog in patches and some clouds in the sky, but it's still dry and warm, and when the sun does burst through it illuminates the scenery in a million shades of green.

I remember being awed by all that green the first day I got here, even though it had been cloudy at the time. Feels like a million years ago. Time has ceased to exist here at Madrona, and if it weren't for the weather getting incrementally warmer as the days go by, along with the flowering of the Nootka roses and blackberry bushes, I wouldn't even notice spring blending into summer.

"Oh look!" Lauren says, nudging me to look at a black bear and her cubs off in the distance. One of the moments again where I wish I had my camera. I make a note to ask Kincaid if he brought his Polaroid. I'm sure we'll see lots of wildlife on our actual hike.

Suddenly, I picture the baby goat stuck on the wall of the barn and I feel sick to my stomach. That image will forever be burned into my brain. That knowledge that Madrona is doing something they shouldn't be doing.

"What's wrong?" Lauren asks, leaning in to be heard over the roar of the ATV and the crunch of the rocks beneath the tires.

I shake my head, Nick's threat ringing in my head. "Just a little motion sickness," I say loudly and we bump around. "How are you feeling? You still thinking of going home?"

"I don't know," she says. "Now that we're out here in the wild?" She leans back, closing her eyes and breathing in deep. "No, not really. I've been looking forward to this damn trip ever since they announced it. I don't even know if there's a point to it, I mean why are the marine sciences people like Justin and Dr. Hernandez here since we'll be in the mountains? More busy work, I'm guessing. But if it gets us out of the lodge, then I don't care. I was starting to go insane."

"You and me both," I tell her, which prompts an ironic smile.

She's right. This camping trip is coinciding with some nicer weather, that's for sure, but it's also happening at a time where most students are starting to buckle under the fog and isolation. It's probably well timed to give us a little freedom every now and then so that we don't rebel.

Then again, maybe the lodge wants us out of its hair. Only Everly, Michael, and the researchers are left behind, the students all gone.

A trickle of unease rolls down my spine.

Did they get rid of us on purpose?

Is there something going on back at Madrona?

Or is there something going on here? a voice whispers.

I ignore it. That's all I can do, though I know it's burying itself under my skin. I'm going to be on high alert. Not for bears and wolves but for…

I don't even know what the threat is.

I just know it would be a mistake to let my guard down, no matter where I am, no matter who I'm with.

I glance over my shoulder at Kincaid driving the ATV a little ways behind us. In his olive raincoat and aviator glasses, he looks equally at ease driving this beast of a machine up a steep mountain road as he does when standing at the front of the classroom, textbook in hand.

I'm lucky I have him in my corner , I think.

Even though I still don't trust him completely.

I trust him sexually. I trust him to look after me.

But that's where it ends.

I'm still not sure if Kincaid is actually a good person or not.

I don't think you can work for Madrona otherwise.

And I don't really know Kincaid at all.

"Making sure he doesn't drive off?" Lauren asks wryly as she leans in.

I face forward, feeling the cool air as we climb higher, making sure my cheeks don't burn. "Just admiring the view."

"I bet you are," she says.

Eventually the ATV comes to a stop in front of an industrial-looking building with a green tin roof, in the middle of a big empty lot, an odd sight surrounded by so much beauty. We're told by Hernandez that this used to be used by the loggers but the logging in the area stopped a long time ago, just at the end of the park.

We climb out of the ATVs, eager to stretch our legs. Dr. Hernandez passes out protein bars as a snack to hold us over until lunch, and our water bottles get filled from the trailer at the back of Nick's vehicle.

Then Kincaid hands us all our tents—his finger touching mine for too long when he hands me mine—and tells us to drink up the expensive stuff while we can. From now on we'll be drinking water from streams and lakes, our water cleaned with purifying tablets.

Then Nick waves goodbye and gets on his ATV before driving off.

"Why is he leaving?" Munawar asks.

"What am I, chopped liver?" Dr. Hernandez jokes. "Nick has some stuff to attend to back at the lab."

Please not baby goats…

"And I never get to go on this expedition," Hernandez continues. "Neither do the marine sciences students, normally. So it's a nice change of pace. Although now that I'm here, I'm a little intimidated. Are you sure it's three days in and three days out?"

Kincaid grins at him, wrinkles appearing at the corner of his aviators, causing my stomach to flutter. "Don't be a wimp."

I adjust my tent on my back, and we all get into single file, Kincaid at the lead and carrying a rifle for protection, Hernandez bringing up the rear, our bear bells jingling from our packs. I'm glad Hernandez is here since I wouldn't have felt very comfortable with Nick, but even so I wonder what lab work Nick is staying behind to do.

I try not to think about it. I'll only get myself into a tizzy.

Instead, I concentrate on my senses to put me firmly in the present. The sound of whisky jacks calling from the trees, no longer cedar but mountain hemlock and balsam fir, and the crunch of the ground beneath our feet. The smell of the crushed needles, the sharp mountain air, and flowing streams. The feel of the sun as it penetrates the canopy above, warming my skin despite the temperature getting cooler. The taste of the water on my tongue, and the sight of all of us students in a line, walking toward something, even if we don't know what it is.

I feel a pang of camaraderie for my cohort. I really have gotten to know and like all of them.

Except for Clayton. Though at the end there, I wasn't really afraid of him anymore. I felt like he was trying to tell me something, as if he was looking out for me. He was just so strange and abrasive about it, it was hard to decipher.

I really hope that Kincaid told me the truth. That Clayton was put on a plane and sent back home. I hope he was trying to prevent something disastrous from happening, that he wasn't just looking out for me in an overly protective manner. As sweet and romantic as the gesture was, it puts a lot of pressure on me. I can handle myself and I could have handled Clayton. Girls become experts at dealing with creeps after a while, even if it exhausts us to do so, even though we shouldn't have to do so.

We hike for a couple of hours until we have our first break. I'm tired and lightheaded, not used to this much exercise, nor this little sleep. Kincaid keeps staring at me, and I can tell he's mentally checking in on how I'm doing. I give him a tepid smile from time to time. It isn't until lunch is over, simple ham and cheese sandwiches that Hernandez passes out, that I perk up a little and we continue walking.

The trail is rough and hard to follow in places, even as we enter the provincial park. I can tell that no one ever comes here except those at Madrona. Every now and then as the trail switchbacks through open rock and scree, we see a foreboding forested mountain in the distance, and the jagged shape reminds me of a jawbone.

"That's Mount Doom," Kincaid says.

Of course it is.

"Technically Doom Mountain," he goes on, "but, you know, doesn't have the same ring to it."

We keep going, down again and into the thick forest.

Kincaid keeps talking, doing an impressive job at throwing his voice back at the twelve of us, Hernandez included, but I don't catch much except that the peninsula was only first explored by botanists in 1975. Before then, no one knew what a treasure trove of fungi, moss, lichen, and plants were here.

We finally stop at our place to camp for the night—a grassy clearing scattered with tiny white and pink flowers, surrounded by lodgepole pine and hemlock. My feet are burning and I'm so tired I want to crawl right into my tent and go to sleep, but I have to put together my tent first.

I stare at it dumbly, not moving, until Kincaid comes over and helps me out.

After he's done setting it up like a pro and in record time, another incredibly sexy thing about him, he leans in close. "Want to take a walk?"

My stomach flips. "Right now?" I whisper. I look around. Everyone is busy struggling with their tents, but no one is paying us any attention.

He nods and then walks off toward the edge of the field.

I try to play it cool. I skirt the edges of the clearing and then duck into the forest. Kincaid is quite far up ahead so I move as fast as I can so that I don't lose him, and suddenly we're in the dark woods. The air is cool and damp here, soft as a kiss on my skin, and the sounds of a babbling brook comes through the bowed trees.

Kincaid stands under the branches, lifting off his shirt.

"There's a stream we can clean off in," he says, nodding further down into the forest. "Cold as hell but it will make us feel like new again after that hike."

But I'm barely paying attention to him because all I can do is stare blatantly at his body. Yes, I saw it last night, more than this, but now it's the early evening and the light is bright and he looks like a forest god with his taut muscles, his smooth, slightly tan skin, the raven tattoo on his arm.

I feel like if there was a male Dryad in ancient Greece, that Wes Kincaid would be one of them.

I waste no time in stepping out of my clothes, stripping for him until it's all scattered around me. Standing in a forest totally naked makes me feel like a fairy nymph too.

And I know I'm not built like a fairy, either. I have cellulite on my thick thighs, I have a belly despite the weight I'd lost early on. But standing in front of Kincaid like this, watching as his cock hardens against his jeans, the lust building in his gaze as he lets it roam over my body, my skin shivering as if being licked by flames, I feel like a mythical creature.

"The stream can wait," Kincaid says before he strides toward me, grabbing me by the small of my waist. He pulls me in for a kiss, hungry and fast. Like a feral animal he starts kissing down my neck, nipping at my collarbone, then to my breasts, licking and sucking until I'm crying out.

Just when I think my knees will buckle, he puts his arms around me and lowers me down until I'm nestled in the soft moss and the cushiony foliage of pink alpine azalea. His hands are rough, moving fast as they part my thighs, leaving myself open for him as the dappled sunshine slides in through the branches above.

I watch, enraptured, as he lowers his head between my legs, his arms wrapped around my thighs, securing me in place while holding me open. He admires my pussy for a moment, then glances up at me through his lashes, his smile crooked and devious.

Then he plunges his head down, attacking me like a starving man, his lips, mouth, and tongue wet, strong and forceful.

A gasp is caught in my throat and I throw my head back. The trees seem to crowd over me as if protecting us, and I'm starting to feel both delicious and light-headed. Dizzy in the best way, like the air is shimmering and melting.

My head rolls to the side and I notice the mushrooms surrounding us.

Some tiny, some large. All a near translucent white with orange gills.

" Excandesco ," I breathe just as Kincaid's tongue plunges inside me, making me choke on the word. My eyes pinch shut, riding out the wave of pleasure, and when I open them again, the mushrooms seem closer somehow.

What is happening? I think, but at the same time, I don't care. My head is too heavy to keep up and I sink further back into the moss, letting the sensations swirl around me.

Kincaid continues to lap at me, ravishing me until I sink so deep, it's as if I'm starting to become one with the moss. My mind is shooting through the stars, and I feel like my soul is starting to disintegrate.

"Don't stop," I whisper. I open my eyes to see the tree branches reaching for me, wanting me, craving me. The air is filled with orange dust that sparkles in the sunlight and I breathe it in, deep as I can, feeling it fill my lungs, infuse the blood in my veins.

I am one , I think. We are one.

I raise my head and glance at Kincaid, the orange dust collecting on his hair, his shoulders as he continues to eat me out, each stroke of his tongue making my body writhe. But when I try to move, I can't.

I glance down and see thin strands of mycelia coming out of the moss, wrapping delicately around my wrists and ankles. It holds my legs apart for Kincaid as he devours me, and the pink flowers of the alpine azalea press against my bare skin, as if they're kissing me. When I look around, the mushrooms are even closer now.

They move when I'm not looking.

Slowly coming for me.

This isn't real , the faint thought pushes through the murkiness of my mind. This isn't happening. You're hallucinating.

But if I feel any fear, it vanishes as Kincaid brings me to a climax. I come hard, the mycelia tightening like the very ropes Kincaid used last night, strapping me down in place.

I am the forest's captive, it's possession , I think as my body keeps convulsing and bucking up against his mouth. The mycelia dig into my skin, tighter, tighter, while inside I feel as if I'm being split into atoms. I am one with the earth, souls joined to souls, a network ever reaching. My vision is of pulses of light traveling through space and time and?—

"Sydney!?"

I open my eyes.

Lift up my head.

See Kincaid staring at me between my legs, looking concerned.

I blink and then look down at my wrists and ankles.

No mycelia.

I look around the forest.

The trees are back in their place, and there are no mushrooms at all.

Like they never existed.

"Are you alright?" he asks, sounding slightly panicked. There's no sight of orange dust anywhere.

I give him a lopsided smile, feeling so strange. "I just…"

But I don't know how to finish the sentence.

Am I alright?

"You seemed like you were in another world," he says, slowly straightening up and sitting back on his knees. "I kept calling your name but you wouldn't respond. Scared the shit out of me."

"I guess the orgasm was just that good," I manage to say, pushing myself up so that I'm on my elbows. I'm not about to tell him that I hallucinated the forest pinning me down so he could have his way with me. I mean there's weird—like seeing Amani and snow in June—and then there's weird . As much as Kincaid rolls with my mental health punches, I think that would stretch his compassion, even for him.

He helps me to my feet, giving me a quick kiss, then takes me by hand to the stream to wash off.

He takes off his pants, his cock half-hard, and I drop to my knees to finish him off. It's only fair, and I make quick work of him, swallowing his release down my throat.

Then we go into the water. It's cold as hell and I can only wander in to my thighs, crouching down in the water to clean myself. At least it's waking me up, snapping some sense into me. I feel like I'm being pulled out of a dream.

Both of us stagger out of the stream, the sky opening up just in time for the sun to heat up our skin. Though the altitude is higher here, that means the rays are stronger and we are quick to dry off.

I grab my clothes and excuse myself to go pee.

"Don't go far," he warns, slipping on his boxer briefs.

"Wouldn't dream of it," I tell him, stepping behind a couple of trees.

Not when the forest seems to do things when you're not looking.

I finish peeing and then pull on my underwear and leggings. I'm just dragging my shirt over my bra when I hear a rustle in the bushes.

I quickly yank the shirt down in time to see a blue ballcap and dark head appear above the yellow flowers of Oregon grape on the slope beneath me.

Suddenly a man looks up and freezes when he spots me standing there.

He's native, dressed in a short-sleeved black shirt and jeans, a backpack on one shoulder.

"It's you ," he says, his voice stern, dripping with disdain. "Haven't seen you in a while. You planning on fucking me over again? Didn't get enough out of us, huh?"

I can only blink at him. I've never met this man before.

"Excuse me?" I say, my voice uneasy.

He lifts up the brim of his ballcap and frowns at me. Then fear comes into his eyes.

"No," he says, shaking his head. "No. Sorry, so sorry. It's not you. You're not her."

Then he turns around.

"Hey!" I yell at him, but he doesn't stop, quickly disappearing into the bushes as if he's running away from me.

What the fuck?

"Sydney?" Kincaid says, appearing beside me. "Who were you talking to?"

I point into the bushes but there's no trace of the man.

"There was a man," I tell him, which makes him frown. "No!" I quickly say, frustration running through me. "No, this was not a hallucination. You can go catch up with him, he's just down there. There was a man. A native. He thought I was someone else."

"Who did he think you were?" he asks, scanning the brush and forest below us.

"I don't know. He said that he hadn't seen me in a while and wondered if I was fucking him over again."

Realization dawns over his face and he nods. "I see. He thought you were Everly." He glances at me. "Everly has had issues with the natives here. They're afraid of her, of everyone at Madrona."

"Issues as in she's fucking them over?"

"Yeah."

"Good lord, what now? Is there anything ethical about Madrona?"

"We're doing good work," Kincaid says with a sigh. "But it comes at a cost. Madrona leases the land, but because the fungi is found on their land, Madrona has taken all the profit. Me and a few others had set it up so that the natives were supposed to get a percentage of sales from the pharmaceutical company, but unbeknownst to me, a new contract was drafted up that essentially cut them out. The Johnstones had their sneaky fucking lawyers word it so, burying it in language and made it iron-clad. When the attorneys tried to fight it, the natives were left out."

I curl my lip in disgust. "That's fucking ridiculous. It's their land, all of this is. They're owed everything."

"I know," he says sadly, but he's grinning at me.

"Why are you smiling?"

"Because," he says with a sigh of relief. "I wanted to know where you stood on this whole thing. It's a relief to know that you feel the same as I do."

"Well, of course I do. I have some morals."

"Then you keep those morals," he says, his eyes flashing with intensity. "Because I've seen what ambition does to a person. I've seen what it's done to Everly. Everything gets thrown aside in pursuit of significance or the almighty dollar."

"You really sound like you hate it here," I tell him. "Why don't you sail away and quit?"

"One day," he says, looking off. "One day I'll do just that. But I can't quit now. As long as you're here, I'm here."

"Oh no," I tell him, even though my chest feels light. "Don't say you're staying for me."

"I'm staying for you, sweetheart," he says, grabbing my hand and holding it up to his mouth, pressing his lips against my skin. "I'm burning up for you. You're my fever, Syd. No cure."