Free Hunted Past Reason by Richard Matheson Page B

bought him. A clean pair of socks felt good too.
    He released a long sigh, then yawned.
    "You won't have trouble sleeping tonight," Doug said.
    "That's for sure," Bob replied. Abruptly, he wished he'd thought to bring along some Valium to relax his muscles. Oh, well, he thought. Let nature take its course. Whatever that means, he thought. He stretched out his legs, then let them relax.
    He watched as Doug began to shake out his sleeping bag vigorously.
    "What are you doing now, checking for rattlesnakes?" he asked, repressing a grin.
    Doug didn't even smile. "Fluffing it up," he said as though Bob had asked a serious question. "Getting the maximum loft. Traps air in the fibers. Helps to keep you warm."
    Jesus, but he knows a lot, Bob thought. I suppose I should do the same thing, he told himself. He was too damn tired though. The hell with it.
    "Did you bring a woolen cap to keep your head warm while you're sleeping?" Doug asked.
    You know you never told me that, Bob thought. "I'll use my corduroy cap," he said.
    "Not as good. But . . . if that's all you have . . ."
    Anything else I'm going to need you haven't told me about? Bob thought.
    "Important to keep the top of your head warm," Doug told him. "I'm going for a walk now."
    "A walk ?" Bob looked astonished.
    "Better than having a warm drink. You want to go with me?"
    "No, thanks, I am very comfortable in here," Bob told him.
    "Okay, suit yourself. I'll be back in a few minutes."
    Before Bob could respond, Doug was out of the tent and gone. Jesus Christ, what if something happens to him? he thought; he falls, gets mauled by a bear, anything? He'd be alone then, with no way of finding the cabin. Did Doug know he'd react this way? He wouldn't be at all surprised.
    He lay silently— and tensely— listening for the sound of Doug returning. What was with him, anyway, going for a walk in the forest at night? Even with a flashlight that he must have taken with him.
    Bob exhaled heavily. Was Doug doing all this to torment him? Why should he? They were friends, weren't they? Or were they?
    Minutes passed. He grew more and more tense. Jesus, what if something really had happened to Doug? What would he—?
    A sudden thrashing noise outside, a crazed growl. He stiffened, face a mask of terror.
    Doug lunged into the tent, shining his flashlight beam into Bob's face. Seeing Bob's rigid expression of dread, he burst into laughter. "Oh, shit," he said, "you're too easy."
    Bob looked at him in fury. "If I'd had a gun, you'd be dead now, you fucking idiot!"
    Doug snickered, shaking his head. "Calmdown," he said, "it was just a joke."
    "A joke that would have killed me if I had a bad heart," Bob told him. "It's still pounding."
    "Okay, okay, I'm sorry," Doug said, "I didn't think you'd react this hard." He slipped into his sleeping bag and started thrashing his legs.
    "What are you doing now ?" Bob asked him, irritably.
    "Isometrics," Doug answered. "Gets the blood flow going."
    My blood flow is turned off for the night, Bob thought. Anyway, he felt warm enough. He put on his corduroy cap. He hadn't planned to wear it while he was sleeping but if it helped . . .
    The two of them lay silently for a while. Then Doug said, "I haven't seen you in a while. What have you been up to?"
    At first, he wasn't going to reply, he was still so angry with Doug. Then he thought: Well, what the hell, maybe he did think it was a joke. There were still days ahead of them being together, Doug in total control of the hike. He couldn't afford being resentful the entire time. He closed his eyes and instructed himself to calm down, forget the incident.
    He sighed. "Well, mostly I've been schlepping through the forest primeval with a joker I know, doing research for a novel."
    "No screenplays lately?" Doug asked, ignoring the remark. "Teleplays? Series work?"
    "I haven't worked on series episodes in five years," Bob told him.
    "Oh, that's right, you don't have to do that sort of thing anymore," Doug said.
    Why was