James Axler – The Mars Arena

In the moonlight slanting through the window, Phaedra Lemon’s long hair shone like spun gold, spread out on her pillow. She slept with a blanket pulled to her shoulder and her fist under her chin. At fifteen, she had curves under that blanket.

She also had her mouth open, innocent like. That one detail almost made Dean feel guilty enough to shuck the whole adventure and go back to his room.

“Can you see anything?” Calgary asked.

Dean swiveled his head, finding the other boy hanging off the eaves almost as far as he was. Calgary’s face was so suffused with blood it looked like a melon about to burst.

“I see that she’s sleeping under a blanket,” Dean replied.

“But is she naked under it?”

“Stay here.” Dean handled his weight on his arms, gripping the eaves with his hands as he turned himself over. The ledge out in front of the window was no more than three or four inches, barely enough for him to put the ends of his shoes on. He managed and soon found it would hold his weight.

“What are you doing?” Calgary asked in a frightened whisper. “You’re going to get caught!”

“Only if you don’t shut your mouth.” Quiet as he could be, Dean pressed his fingers against the windowpane and pushed up.

The window slid easily, only having a few rough spots. Nicholas Brody made sure craftsmanship went into every aspect of his school. Thinking about the old headmaster was troubling to Dean, because it was sort of betraying the trust the man had placed in him by accepting his enrollment. Of course, his dad had also placed a lot of jack in Mr. Brady’s hands along with responsibility for his son’s tutelage.

But Dean wasn’t exactly thinking things through that night. Somehow he wasn’t able to. Seeing Phaedra lying there under that blanket, all curvy and unaware, had numbed the guilty pangs.

Light-footed as a cat and just as sure, he crept into the room. He glanced at the other bed and saw the girl sleeping there, her head thrown back, snoring softly. He knew her, too, but he couldn’t remember her name. He didn’t even care.

He moved closer to Phaedra’s bed, eyes running along the womanly body under the lightweight lavender blanket.

At least, it looked lavender in the moonlight. She smelled of vanilla, too, just as he knew she would.

He’d always known women had different shapes than men. Rona had been beautiful and he’d bathed with her, and Dean was aware of the stares Krysty got whenever they were around men.

The time was magical for Dean in ways that be knew he’d never be able to put into words. It was one of those pictures he knew he’d carry around in his head forever. Except for the sight of Calgary Ventnor’s head hanging down in view of the window like some ugly fruit, it was perfect. The boy motioned for Dean to hurry.

Gently Dean reached out for the edge of the blanket, took it between his finger and thumb and began to pull it down. He hadn’t done more than reveal one bare shoulder when he noticed that Phaedra Lemon’s eyes were open and she was staring right at him.

The girl’s mouth started to round out, opening, and she took a deeper breath.

Figuring she was going to scream, Dean dropped a hand to her face and covered her mouth, wondering what had driven him to be stupe enough to get caught in her bedroom.

Chapter Ten

Ryan spotted Doc leaning down into a hole in the ground. Then he heard the old man shouting Krysty’s name. Another big tremor hit, nearly knocking Ryan from his feet as he redoubled his efforts. He skidded across a boulder, shaving skin from both palms.

In five more long strides over the wobbling ground, he was beside Doc. “Where’s Krysty?”

“There!” The old man pointed.

Squinting his eye, Ryan peered into the fissure. It was dark inside, but he could just make out the dying embers of a torch as it skittered over the side of another, widening crack in the earth. For an instant the torch flared to new life, no longer battered by the stones it rolled across.