“Beware. Keep out. Bears, wolves, coyotes, monsters. Monsters?” Micah squinted, re-reading the faded paint on the shabby, haphazard fence. “Yep, monsters.”

“What do you think,” Zeke asked. “Meth lab?”

“Out here? Nah. Nudist colony.” Micah grinned at his friend, who rolled his eyes with that little half-smile that haunted Micah’s dreams.

“Onward?” Zeke asked.

“And upward,” Micah confirmed. “School starts next week. I’m not facing a hundred and eighty teenagers without a full adventure under my belt.” Micah gripped the top board and pulled, testing the strength. It crumbled under his grasp, exploding in a puff of dry rot. Shrugging, Micah kicked down the remaining boards until he could step easily through the gap.

Zeke followed close behind as the canyon tilted up in a steep, rocky incline. The bubbling brook splashed down the hill to their left, rendering the hand and footholds slippery and covered in thick, green moss. Overhead, the canopy of deciduous trees filtered the blazing summer sunlight into a cool, green haze. This slope was their Everest, taunting them from a distance over their years of weekend hikes. They had finally decided that they were ready to conquer it.

Halfway up, Micah began to second-guess that decision. His muscles quaked with the effort to cling to slick stones. Sweat stuck his sandy curls to his forehead and streamed into his grey eyes, and he kept bashing his bare knees on jagged stones. Struggling to breathe, Micah reached up to pull himself onto a scrubby tree which grew horizontally out of the canyon wall. He sat on it, catching his breath in great gulps, then reached down to lift Zeke up to sit beside him.

“I could have done that,” Zeke gasped.

“Or killed yourself trying,” Micah grinned. He took a swig from his canteen and passed it over to Zeke, who gulped it down. “How long to the top, you think?”

“Maybe an hour,” Zeke said. “Maybe less. You giving up on me already?”

“Never! We conquer this hill today.”

A fist bump sealed the deal, and after another minute of rest, they started up the slope again. To Micah’s great relief, the ground began to level slightly a few feet up from the tree. Before long they were walking upright, picking their way across the piles of loose boulders, still climbing upward. After forty-five minutes, they could see the pinnacle. Zeke’s estimation had been right on the money, and they made it to the top within minutes of his estimation. Breathing hard, they stood together above the clouds. A swift breeze blew, and Micah gripped Zeke’s arm to keep from losing his balance. The touch sent a wriggle of heat through his body, as it always did; and, as always, he ignored it. Zeke was his best friend. Pursuing him would cross lines that Micah couldn’t even begin to consider.

“Dude, look,” Zeke breathed beside him.

The breeze had parted the clouds, and Zeke was pointing at the space between them.

“That...is a lot of trees,” Micah stated the obvious. “Is this valley on the map?”

Zeke shook his head. “It’s not on the satellite either. Just clouds and peaks.”

“Ooh, conspiracy or negligence?”

“Definitely conspiracy,” Zeke said with a grin. “Let’s go find out what they’re hiding.”

Neither of them really believed it was a conspiracy, that was ridiculous. But they had learned long ago that life was a lot more fun if they wove a narrative web around the mundane, seeing adventures where other people saw inconvenience. It was a defense mechanism; Micah knew that. He also didn’t care. Some defenses had no downside, and this, to his mind, was one of those. He and Zeke slid down the slope, slowing their descent by walking sideways and pushing against tree trunks. The slope down was longer than the slope up, and it took them another hour to reach the flat ground below. Once there, they collapsed together under a tree and emptied Micah’s canteen.

“Quiet out here,” Zeke observed.

“Weirdly quiet,” Micah agreed. “Birds must not know this place is here either.”

“Or they just can’t get to it,” Zeke suggested. “We’re up pretty high.”

“Not that high,” Micah said doubtfully.

Zeke stroked his closely-trimmed beard thoughtfully, then shrugged. “Maybe they’re scared of the monster.”

Micah laughed, but quickly quieted. His voice echoed strangely through the thick trees, a sort of muffled, twisted reflection of his voice. It made him irrationally uneasy. After a few more minutes of relaxation, Zeke stood and stretched.

“Well, are we going to figure out what they’re hiding up here, or are we taking a nap?” he asked.

“Definitely nap,” Micah said.

“Definitely not.” Zeke reached down and yanked Micah to his feet- a show of force that had Micah’s heart racing and made his mouth water. He shook Zeke off playfully.

“I see how it is,” Micah teased. “You want me exhausted so you can sell me to your alien overlords without a struggle.”

“What can I say. Probing pays well,” Zeke winked.

Micah rolled his eyes, but followed Zeke into the woods. Even the trees were quiet here, quieter than they should have been. Overhead, fast mountain winds streamed through the peaks, pushing the clouds past at high speeds; down in the valley, not a single leaf moved. Just blocked by the peaks, Micah told himself. Nothing to worry about. Totally natural. Right?

“Man, I haven’t even seen a squirrel,” Zeke said, as if reading his mind. “It’s like a graveyard up here.”

“Zombies,” Micah replied. “The monsters are definitely zombies, and we’re going to stumble onto Dr. Frankenstein’s lab.”

“Does Frankenstein’s monster count as a zombie?” Zeke asked.

“Of course it does. It was the original zombie. This viral spread crap is new, from a literary perspective.”

“But doesn’t the viral spread make it a zombie?” Zeke argued. “If it won’t turn you into a zombie with a bite or scratch, can it really be called a zombie?”

“Sure. If it’s dead flesh walking, it’s a zombie. Doesn’t matter if it happened because of a virus or a mad scientist or a necromancer: a zombie’s a zombie.”

“I bet the zombies up here are the viral kinds. That’s why they have to be kept away from the general population.” Zeke’s eyes lit up with the narrative, sparkling like green galaxies under the canopy of leaves. Micah grinned back at him, feeling his heart squeeze in his chest the way it did when he saw an exceptionally cute puppy or a really well-written essay. Well, not exactly the same way, he admitted to himself. There was more to it than simple appreciation for the aesthetic. But it was pretty damn close, and Micah had to deliberately force himself not to touch Zeke. Swallowing hard, he regretted coming up here instead of going to the community barbecue at the river, which had been the other option. At least at the barbecue, there would have been other people to distract him. Up here, there wasn’t even a rustle of wind to take his attention off Zeke’s clear, olive skin or the taut rippling muscles under his sweat-drenched shirt. Micah opened his second canteen and took a swallow. His mouth had suddenly gone very, very dry.

“Holy crap...look!” Zeke hissed. He immediately dropped his gear and stripped off his shirt, making it incredibly difficult for Micah to tear his eyes away to look in the indicated direction. When he did, though, he began stripping out of his own clothes immediately. Before them, reflecting the trees and cloudy sky, was a wide, clear, perfectly round pool. Trees clustered closely around it, plunging their greedy roots deep into the crystal water.

“Haven’t been skinny dipping since we were kids,” Zeke said, his face alight with nostalgia and anticipation. “Last one in’s a rotten egg!”

Micah had to take that blow, because as soon as Zeke’s pants and underwear were discarded, Micah found himself uncomfortably aroused. Not wanting to draw attention to himself, he let Zeke pull ahead. Micah’s heart raced at the sight of Zeke’s taught, muscular ass rippling as he leapt over roots and boulders. Once Zeke dove head-first into the water, Micah followed, relying on the cold shock to put him to rights before he was found out. The water enveloped him and did its job, freezing him to his bones. He dove under the water to acclimate faster and opened his eyes. What he saw nearly caused his heart to stop. He surfaced with a gasp and sought Zeke’s eyes.

“It’s bottomless!” he gasped.

“Yeah,” Zeke said with an excited grin. “Must be an old volcano shaft. Look how blue it is!”

It was. The water was so clear that Micah felt he could see for miles, down past the tangle of roots to the flint-grey walls, and beyond to the pitted black. It went on and on, and swimming over it made him feel as if he was falling through space itself. He stared down into it, losing himself in the depths, until he felt Zeke close beside him. His proximity won over the temperature of the water, and Micah tucked his legs up to hide the effects.

“Know what this reminds me of?” Zeke asked quietly, staring down into the pool. “That month after my mom died. This is what it was like, inside my head. Clear, empty, and bottomless. I wanted to sink to the bottom and stay there forever.” He reached down as he spoke, making him sink down to his chin. Micah yanked him up and paddled toward the side of the pool.

“None of that,” he said firmly.

“Just like the first time,” Zeke said with a sad smile. “You ever going to stop saving me from myself, Micah?”

“Depends. You ever going to stop trying to steal yourself from me?”

Zeke gave him a sharp look. “Interesting way to phrase it.”

“No point in sugar coating,” Micah shrugged. “You kill yourself, you’re not going to care after. Me, I’ll be hiking by myself. Probably get bit by a damn snake or something and die.”

“Nah,” Zeke said with a wicked grin. “That’s too dignified. You’d slip on a rock and impale yourself ass-first on a sapling.”

“Ugh!” Micah shuddered. “God, you and your imagination.”

“It’s not like you’ve never been impaled before,” Zeke teased.

Micah felt his face heat, and he pushed Zeke hard. Zeke laughed and splashed him, kicking off a water fight as epic as any they’d had as teenagers. They were quickly swept up in the competition, moving closer and closer in their attempt at virtual drowning. Finally, coughing up water and laughing hysterically, Micah called for a truce. When the waters stilled, he found himself mere inches from Zeke’s sharp-featured face, staring into his hazel eyes. They looked golden brown in this light, as brilliant as the green they had reflected on the way up. Micah could get lost in those eyes if he gave himself half a chance. Zeke drifted closer, looking around at the trees and sky as if deliberately ignoring his own actions, until his chest brushed against Micah’s.

He can feel my heart beat, Micah thought. He has to be feeling it. Micah’s heart was thundering so hard that it made the water vibrate between them. Every molecule in Micah’s body ached to pull Zeke closer, to press his body close, to take his mouth, his skin, his everything. Seconds stretched into silent minutes as Micah battled his own impulses, his mind racing with questions. Did Zeke know what he was doing to him? Was he doing it on purpose? Was this an invitation, and if it was, could Micah accept in good conscience? He had no answers. Eventually, Zeke met his eyes with a small, gentle smile.

“It’s getting late,” he said. “We should find a place to set up camp.” He turned away, leaving Micah equal parts relieved and disappointed, and crawled out of the pool. Swallowing hard and trembling fiercely, Micah followed him. The moment in the pool stayed with him for the rest of the evening, as they wandered through the valley looking for a good place to pitch their tent and start a fire. When they found it, it almost seemed to be waiting for them. The clearing housed a wide, flat, circular rock covered in thick, spongy moss. The stone was surrounded by others like it, one of which was bowl-shaped with a decent lip on it. A small, fresh spring bubbled out from a crack in another boulder, offering them fresh water.

“Doesn’t get much more perfect than this,” Zeke sighed happily. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think someone lived here.”

“Let’s hope not,” Micah said wryly. “Wouldn’t want Bigfoot wandering in to find a couple squatters.”

Zeke grinned at that. “I thought we were worried about zombies?”

“Pretty sure zombies wouldn’t care about a built-in fire pit or running water,” Micah pointed out.

“Fair enough.”

They set up camp quickly and started the fire easily. Usually, they would have stayed up late, drinking beer and talking, but the arduous climb followed by the long swim, plus the heavy satisfaction of baked beans and bacon sitting warm in their bellies, culminated in a bone-deep exhaustion. They turned in just as the first stars were beginning to twinkle through the magenta haze. The soft moss was as comfortable as Micah’s mattress at home- more, even, since the moss had no broken springs. Sleep came for them quickly, pulling Micah irresistibly into a dream where labels didn’t matter and sex didn’t ruin friendships.