Birdeater

Chapter 6

They drove a little further up the mountain.

Maybe twenty minutes.

Realization was sinking in. Blair refused to acknowledge it. He stared out the window and his hand gripped the door handle. He could spring at any moment, roll down the mountain, and solve all their problems.

"Is it always a different cave?" There was no point in pretending anymore. He knew exactly what Florence was.

"There are a hundred different caves, crevices, and caverns out here." Florence responded. "There is 450 miles of Blue Ridge Mountain to work with."

"And the police are starting to crawl all over them."

"Even the police can't find them all."

"Maybe you should stop for a while."

"Maybe."

Blair picked at a flap of dry skin on his lip. "There was five years where nothing happened."

"My mother was sick." Florence turned off the car. He grabbed his fob and hit a button. "Trunk's open."

That was probably all he was going to get. Blair got out of the car. He had no idea what time it was, but the sky was starting to change shades. Over the drive it had gone from black to dark blue. Now it was lightening up even more.

Soon it would be dawn.

The body in the trunk was wrapped up tightly. Nothing had leaked. Florence had made sure of that. He had expressed disgust for all of the blood.

Florence reached in and grabbed the shoulders. He had Blair take the feet. There was a trail going up towards their destination that was not official in any way. But it was not overrun with underbrush, so it made carrying the body a little easier.

It felt like hours, but it only took a few minutes. The opening looked more like an old well than a cave entrance. It was barely big enough for a body. It would have to be straight drop. And they could only hope it did not get too tight too quickly, or they were going to have parts of her sticking out.

"This is more obscure than my usual." Florence warned. "They may not find her for a while."

"Fine by me." Blair murmured.

He said it was fine. But he wasn't sure if that was true.

:::

Cold water made pale pink puddles on the shower floor. The water could not get warm. It didn't matter how far to the right Blair turned the knob.

Blair shivered. The blood didn't look like it was going anywhere. Panic and paranoia told him that it was going to stay forever. As soon as he stepped into the sunlight people would know.

He wondered if he still smelled like blood. He could still taste it the back of his throat but everything else smelled like tea tree shower steamers and clean soap.

"We are going to get caught." Blair's teeth chattered.

"With that attitude." Florence scrubbed the washcloth over Blair's skin. It felt good. It also felt like Florence couldn't scrub hard enough to expel all of the bad.

Blair tried to shift his focus. It did not help that this was his first time seeing Florence naked. Unfairly, (expectedly), he was beautiful. Too raw to be artwork. Too streaked in grime and blood to be marble or an oil painting. But the water explored every dip and line. He had two moles along his collarbone and two more along the line of his right hip. Scar tissue sliced open the highest part of his thighs. Most of the wide silver marks were covered by dark blonde hair. Blair also enjoyed the trail of hair that went over his belly curve and plunged down. Around his cock, it was just as light and nearly trimmed.