Late on the third afternoon they arrived at the South Fork of the Trinity where they set up their tent before bathing in the cold water. After a hot meal, they settled down on a log beside the fire to wait for the coffee to boil. They sat for a long time recalling to each other their four years at the university and planning a future together. They would get jobs in San Francisco and perhaps live in San Rafael. After a year or two they'd start a family. Life would be good. The only problem was that Tommy hadn't been able to get an erection. On the second night she even kissed and licked his cock. It rose a little but quickly subsided. Heather continued to get herself off after he went to sleep. Although they didn't discuss it, both of them realized this was not a temporary problem. Whether it was medical or psychological they agreed to seek professional help when they returned to San Francisco.
When the coffee was gone and the fire had subsided to a few flickering flames among the embers, Heather turned to her husband, "You are all I have in the world," she whispered, "and that is more than I could ever wish for."
"Yes," he said, touching her cheek, "marrying you was the most wonderful thing that ever happened to me." He kissed her lightly. "In spite of that...uh...problem, we are each other's best friend and each other's only real family."
"Except for generous Uncle Alex whoever and wherever he is," she laughed.
They crawled into the tent and snuggled together in the same sleeping bag.
They slept until nine. "It's going to be a hot day," Tommy said.
Heather was rummaging through her backpack. "I think I'll wear this little white skirt," she said. "My jeans are too hot." She pulled on bikini panties and then the skirt.
"No bra," she smiled and winked at Tommy. He laughed. She slipped her bare feet into a pair of tennis shoes and, while Tommy dressed, put on her make up.
When they went outside to greet the morning, Willy and Sam were sitting on the log facing the tent. Behind them tied to an oak beside the narrow trail were two donkeys. In his mid-fifties, Willy was bald except for a gray fringe which circled the back of his head. He was short, no taller than Heather, about 5'1". He looked much older than his age, emaciated, wasted, a concave chest, skinny arms and legs. Both his upper and lower front teeth were missing. He wore torn khaki pants and a gray sweatshirt, neither of which had been washed in weeks. His hands were calloused, his fingernails long and crusted with dirt. On his feet were black socks and old worn boots. Across his knees lay an automatic rifle.
Sam was perhaps a year or two younger, taller and heavier. From the corner of his right eye to the corner of his mouth stretched a wide crescent shaped scar, purple and rough. It appeared to be a deep cut that had never healed properly. His face looked misshapen, pulled down on the side with the scar. He wore old army fatigues and combat boots. His feet and hands were huge. Resting against the log at his side was another automatic rifle.
When the young couple emerged from their tent, Sam picked up his rifle and leveled it at them, not holding it to his shoulder, but pointing it from his lap, his index finger on the trigger.
"Surprise!" Willy grinned.
Tommy pushed Heather behind him and took a step toward the two men. "I don't know what you want..." he began. Sam's finger moved and a burst of bullets tore through the tent. Heather screamed.
Willy held up a hand, "Sam," he said evenly, "doesn't say much. He was in the last war. He's not exactly right in the head. He gets mad easy and when he's mad he'd just as soon kill you as not."
Tommy, still keeping Heather behind him, nodded, "O.K." he said, "Please, we aren't looking for any trouble. Whatever you want, just take it. Please take what you want and we'll be on our way."
"You got wall