Stranded (16 page)

Kendall sat back in the seat, breathing through his mouth, and took a look around him. He could see almost nothing out of the windshield—it was covered in sand, as was much of the back window. He could see out both sets of side windows, but that was it. Of course the keys weren’t in the ignition. He could reach a few of the dashboard buttons, not that any of them worked. He was pretty much stuck where he was.

The light outside the car increased, and Kendall quickly realized that as the sun rose higher, the car would turn into an oven. The heat was already beginning to rise inside the car, and Kendall was instantly thirsty. He licked his lips and swallowed to coat his suddenly dry throat. Kendall continued looking around, racking his brain to try to think of a way out of this. But of course nothing came to mind. He reached for the latch to open the door. He could make it if he twisted his arm just right, but he paused. The only moisture he had was coming from him, his breath and his body, and at least that was trapped inside the car. If he opened the door, the heat inside the car would escape, but so would all the moisture. He was damned if he did and damned if he didn’t.

“What in the hell am I going to do?” Kendall asked out loud just as the sun shone on the partially covered back window. The heat inside the car rose quickly, and Kendall closed his eyes, sat still, and did something he hadn’t done in years… prayed, and hoped for a miracle.

H
OURS
passed, and the heat built further and further, then finally seemed to level off. Kendall’s lungs began to ache from it, but at least the sun was no longer blasting directly in through the windows. That was a bit of a relief, but it appeared like the only break he’d been able to catch. His clothes and the seat were wet, and sweat ran down his forehead, threatening to run into his eyes. Kendall leaned forward and managed to wipe the sweat with his hand, and out of sheer desperation licked the moisture with his tongue. He’d had time to think and to plan, but all the paths he came up with led one place—nowhere. He couldn’t get word to anyone, and he couldn’t get out. All he could do was hope someone found him and that whoever had done this to him didn’t come back.

Kendall had decided that the person who had kidnapped him intended for him to die out here and was unlikely to return. However, niggling in the back of his brain was the thought that his stalker might intend to return and “rescue” him. At this point, Kendall didn’t care. He’d play along and pretend, do whatever he had to, as long as he could get back to civilization. From there he’d let the police handle it. But that wasn’t likely. They weren’t going to give themselves up like that.

There was nothing he could do. Kendall was completely helpless, and until someone found him,
if
someone ever found him, it was his job to try to stay alive, and that meant water. Of course, at the rate he was sweating, there wouldn’t be much water left inside him for long. He closed his eyes and relaxed as best he could, conserving as much energy as possible.

The sun moved outside the car, the shadow from the hill beside him just out of reach of the car and then moving on. Eventually he had to keep his eyes closed or his head turned away as the sun shone on the windshield. The sand blocked much of the sun, but not all of it, and the car heated up once again.

H
IS
stomach began cramping from hunger and thirst as the sun finally began to set. Kendall had been hungry for hours, but the pain was the worst it had been all day. Worse, he’d had to go to the bathroom, and through plenty of wriggling around he’d managed to lift his hips to his hands and open his fly. He managed to get most of it on the floor and mostly missed his shoes, and then he’d gotten his dick back in his pants but couldn’t redo the zipper. Eventually he gave up, settled back on the seat, and went back to looking around.

Once the sun went down, the heat abated and it got completely dark. He briefly saw the stars shining in the sky, and then, as the temperature dropped, the windows fogged over. Kendall licked every inch of the glass he could reach with his tongue. Then he sat back and hoped like hell the window would fog up again. His stomach eventually stopped aching, and as the heat leached out of the car and it became more comfortable, he closed his eyes.

J
OHNNY
came home and set his bag on the table. “What’s wrong?”

“I knew I was being completely stupid,” Johnny said, pulling out a pile of papers joined together by a huge paper clip and plunking it on the table.

Kendall got up from the table. His current show was dark today, and it was typically their evening to do something special together. With this show it was Monday, and he never made evening plans. This was their time together. “What’s this?”

“My book,” Johnny said, and Kendall widened his eyes in surprise.

“You wrote a book? You never told me you’d done that.” Kendall reached for the pile of paper. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Because it’s crap. I started it on a lark before I met you because I got this idea, and it took me two years between classes. I’ve been finishing it while you were working.” Johnny plopped into one of the chairs. “I spend a lot of time alone, and I filled some of it, finishing the story. It’s an adventure story about a man looking for treasures stolen by the Nazis and thought lost forever. I showed it to my doctoral advisor and he said he’d read it. He gave it back to me and said I would be better off concentrating on my classwork and thesis.”

“What did he say exactly?” Kendall asked, gathering Johnny into his arms.

“He said that kind of work was beneath a true historian, and that if I wanted to make anything of myself, I should spend my time on more academically worthy endeavors,” Johnny mimicked pompously, and Kendall snickered.

“Can I read it?” Kendall asked.

“If you want to,” Johnny said. “Heck, you can have it, if you want. Maybe when we’re old we can pull it out for a laugh.”

“Hey, I bet it’s great,” Kendall said and kissed him.

“Of course you would say that. You love me,” Johnny said.

“Okay,” Kendall countered. “How about you let me read it, and I’ll tell you exactly what I think.”

“Even if it sucks?” Johnny asked.

“Yes,” Kendall agreed and kissed him again. He’d planned to go out to dinner, but they ended up staying in that evening. Actually, Johnny made a quick dinner, and they spent the rest of the evening in bed. Once Johnny fell asleep, Kendall was wide awake, so he got out of bed, picked up Johnny’s manuscript from the table, and sat in the living room to read. He didn’t stop until it was nearly morning and he’d read every word. Johnny woke him up in the morning where he’d fallen asleep on the sofa, the manuscript beside him on the floor.

“Was it so bad that it put you to sleep?” Johnny asked when Kendall woke as Johnny covered him with a blanket.

“What time is it?” Kendall yawned, curling under the blanket.

“Just after seven,” Johnny answered. “Why?”

“I read it straight through and couldn’t put it down. My heart raced and I was on the edge of my seat for hours. Your professor is so full of shit, he’ll attract flies. That is pure gold. I didn’t just like it, I loved it, and I love you for writing it.”

“You’re not kidding?” Johnny said.

“Hell no, I’m not. I’m going to call Sal this morning and see if he knows any literary agents.” Kendall yawned, and Johnny kissed him before leaving the apartment.

K
ENDALL
jerked himself upright when he fell forward onto the horn. He blinked a few times and quickly remembered where he was and what had happened to him. It was pitch black and Kendall could see almost nothing inside or outside the car. The window near him had fogged up again and he licked it, the moisture feeling amazing on his dry tongue. Of course, the effect didn’t last long. All he could think about was his primal need for water, no matter how hard he tried to push it from his mind. He wasn’t getting any more water, and all he could hope for was that someone would find him before too long. His lips ached already, and he knew soon it would hurt to blink. His throat already felt like sandpaper, and swallowing hurt, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

Kendall worked himself forward in the seat, slowly lengthening the seat belt. Once he was as far forward as he could get, Kendall licked what condensation he could off the windshield. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing, and when he was done, his throat felt a bit better. When he’d gotten all the moisture he could, Kendall sat back down with a sigh. He hoped like hell someone was looking for him. He pushed the doubts from his mind. Hope was all he had.

The hours ticked by, the only sound reaching his ears his own breathing and the occasional soft squeak of the seat when he shifted. Kendall closed his eyes again, because if he could sleep, at least he was conserving some of the energy he had left. But of course that didn’t happen, and Kendall stayed awake much of the night. He might have dozed off a bit, but he really wasn’t sure.

The first rays of light lit the windows, and Kendall’s fear instantly rose. He’d made it through the night, but he knew the worst was yet to come. Yesterday had been hell, but the second day in the oven the car would become would be nearly unbearable. The light increased quickly, shining in the back window and almost instantly starting to increase the temperature. Kendall licked the glass one last time before the moisture disappeared and then closed his eyes, sat back, and waited for the heat he knew was only a short way off.

Once the sun was up, Kendall pretty much lost track of time. Not that it mattered, because every hour that went by meant he was one hour closer to dying of thirst. His mind wandered and Kendall made no move to stop it. At least his wandering thoughts were an escape from the reality of sweltering heat and unending thirst.

“Johnny how could you do this to me?” Kendall moaned out loud at one point, desperate to hear something other than his own breathing. “How could you let this happen to me?” Kendall knew he wasn’t thinking clearly, but he didn’t care. “If you’d have come, I’d have been safe.” Kendall pounded the steering wheel in a fit of rage, the handcuffs chinking. “You…”
pound
“should…”
pound
“have… been… here!” Kendall gripped the wheel and pulled on it, his frustration and anger overwhelming him. “This is all your fault. You should have loved me enough to come with me.” His rage and energy were spent in a matter of seconds, and Kendall hung his head forward and softly began to cry. “You didn’t love me enough.”

How long he stayed that way Kendall didn’t know. His neck hurt, but he ignored it along with the hunger, thirst, heat, and every other fucking thing ripping his body and mind apart.

H
E
AND
Johnny were moving. Johnny had moved out of student housing and into Kendall’s small apartment two years earlier. It had been cramped, but they were in love, so the space, or lack thereof, didn’t matter. It still didn’t, but Kendall had happened upon a larger apartment thanks to a friend. He was leaving for an opportunity in Seattle and had offered Kendall the apartment, a rent-control apartment, no less. He and Johnny had taken one look at the brownstone building and then seen the apartment. They smiled at one another and instantly said yes.

Kendall had rented a truck, which was parked just outside their building. Everything had been packed, and Kendall was now making what seemed like his millionth trip up and down the stairs. A friend of Johnny’s was staying with the truck and loading the things as they brought them down. “That’s nearly the last of it,” Kendall told Steve as he took the box. “Just a few more trips and we’re done.” Johnny came wobbling out of the building carrying a stack of boxes. Kendall hurried over and took the top one. “How could you see?”

“Couldn’t. Not really,” Johnny answered a bit breathlessly. Kendall hurried to the truck with the box, and then one by one, unloaded Johnny. “There’s just a few more things,” Johnny said. Reluctantly they both went back inside and climbed the stairs. The apartment was largely empty, with just a few smaller boxes and some cleaning supplies left.

“I’ll carry these down if you want to finish sweeping up. I’ll meet you down at the truck,” Kendall said, and Johnny got to work. Kendall picked up the boxes and paused, watching as Johnny worked. Then he set them on the counter and tapped Johnny on the shoulder. “We’re moving to our first apartment, yours and mine,” Kendall whispered, and Johnny dropped the broom before pulling Kendall into his arms.

“This place was nice…,” Johnny said as they hugged.

“Yes, it was. But the new apartment will have a real bedroom and kitchen,” Kendall whispered back, and Johnny leaned in for a kiss.

A knock interrupted them, and they both turned as a throat cleared. “I have a package that needs to be signed for.” The mail carrier appeared a bit surprised, but not shocked. Johnny released Kendall and signed the form. The carrier picked up a box he’d set just outside and handed it to Johnny. Then he smiled quickly and left.

“What’s this?” Kendall asked. Johnny seemed to vibrate as he carried the box to the small bit of counter and yanked open the top. Then he handed Kendall a hardcover book. Johnny’s book.

“Can you believe it?” Johnny asked. “Look at the dedication.”

Kendall opened the cover and turned to the page. “
To Kendall, who encouraged me to go forward when I was about to stop. Thank you for believing in me when others didn’t
.”

“I could never have seen this through without you,” Johnny said, and he tugged Kendall back into his arms. “I wanted to add that I loved you more than life itself, but the publisher said I shouldn’t be too… ‘in your face’ was the term he used. But I do. I love you.” Johnny kissed him intensely, and Kendall nearly dropped the book.