The leaves already changing their colors from emerald green to an array of reds, yellows, and oranges. Soon they’ll all be on the ground, a sickly brown being crunched under many students in a hurry to get to the next class or next wild party. I kept having the same dream: Professor Jasper A. Martel in his black robes in the Greek Temple with the stone altar and the evil mystery jar. How did I know that it was evil? You don’t chain up a jar that whispers if it’s a nice one. I felt that if that jar were opened then the world would end. I felt something stir beside me. I rolled over to see Jason twitching his nose. Sex was the best way to get over anything that was really bugging me. Lately it was the only thing that made sense anymore. Jason’s green eyes fluttered open. He smiled as he noticed me watching him. ‘Good morning, beautiful…,’ Jason stretched and yawned. I smiled, the disturbing dream melting away as I admired Jason’s muscles become taut and flex with each stretch. I. Blondie was the only one who complained. She couldn’t carry her load, couldn’t walk, and needed food. She’d bitched for three solid hours before Martin told her to shut-up. We rested only when Martin thought we’d put a reasonable distance between us, the remnants of the plane and any possible rebel who’d realise there’d been more than the two pilots and one steward aboard. We left our entire luggage behind, taking bare essentials struggling with carrying them had been enough to bring me out in a hot sweat as we’d tramped through the jungle. The rifle dug into my back as Miles turned over. Martin ensured we carried one each, loaded, ready for firing. It had been okay to sleep beside Miles when his back was against mine. But now his belly rubbed against me and a seriously suspicious bump pushed hard against my ass. I wriggled away only to discover Blondie’s face pressed into my breasts. The snore let me know she was in dreamland though, so I didn’t let her bother me. I couldn’t relax.
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