Disclaimers in Part 1

Jim versus the Volcano
Part 6 -The Tweedle Dee- Jim 

He was keeping something from me, something that worried him. But then I was 
keeping something from him as well.

So we fished, and for every fish Blair pulled in, one of those suckers stole 
my bait. Finally I managed to hook something, and there was a freaking 
massive battle in which everyone, Joel, Henri, Blair, they *all* tried to 
help me haul it up. It turned out to be a hammerhead shark, the 
scariest-looking fish I had ever, *ever* seen. I had no intention of 
quarreling with that shark over possession of a fishing rod! I flipped it 
over the side of the boat and let him take it. 

We scuba-dived. Blair fitted the tanks to my back and fastened the buckles. 
He showed me how to spit in the mask to cut down the possibility of it 
fogging up, and how to tip over backwards from the transom to enter the 
water. And when we were twenty-five feet below the surface, Blair eased the 
regulator out of my mouth and under the guise of teaching me how to buddy 
breathe, kissed me stupid. 

We rode the waves on the WaveRunner. He sat on the long seat, in cut-off 
jeans, looking up patiently. "Come on, Jim. It's a piece of cake! It won't 
sink, I promise!" I was wearing swim trunks that were... loud. Gingerly I 
eased myself down onto the seat. "Hold on, man." I held on. "Uh... Jim? Babe? 
You want to let me breathe?" I eased my grip on him, dropping my hands to his 
waist, and once *I* remembered to breathe, I found I really enjoyed skimming 
over the waves. I leaned against his back, and while one hand stayed curled 
around his waist, the fingers of the other tiptoed from his knee to the 
frayed hem of his shorts and slid under, reaching for hidden treasure.

We spent evenings on deck, letting the boat rock beneath us, gazing at the 
stars and talking, or just lying on the bench seats, enjoying the silence. 
And when we went below deck to my cabin, Joel and Henri would take possession 
of the deck, having watched their fill of videos, and we'd spend the night in 
each other's arms.

One night I was lying on my berth, waiting for Blair to come into my 
stateroom. I was reading something I had found in the Tweedle Dee's library, 
a monograph by Sir Richard Burton, the explorer not the actor, regarding the 
subject of sentinels. It was the first time I had ever actually seen any 
written matter about the conundrum with which I'd been living. I noticed that 
the sections dealing with 'guides' were highlighted. 

At that point Blair finally showed up, and I forgot everything else. He used 
silk ties to restrain my wrists and ankles, leaving me spread out on the 
berth, and he rapidly shed his clothes. I felt the heat of my arousal sweep 
through me, up from my toes, down from my chest, pooling in my groin, and I 
could smell his sexual excitement, but no matter what pleas or demands 
spilled from my mouth, he simply grunted a reply. 

"Blair..." I was becoming desperate. I learned why he wouldn't say a word 
when he stripped the fine linen boxers I wore out of the way and went down on 
me, his mouth chilled from the ice cube he held in it. I shivered, and not 
simply from the difference in temperatures.

I was right; his lips did look good around my dick. 

It took a shamefully short amount of time before I was slammed into an 
intense orgasm. Blair licked me clean, and after I'd recovered my breath, and 
he'd loosened the ties, I flipped him onto his back and returned the favor, 
sucking him until he erupted in my mouth.

My lover was breathless. I settled him beside me, my grin smug. We lay 
bonelessly, side by side on that big berth. I couldn't remember ever feeling 
so *alive*, even when I wasn't dying. If I tried really hard, I could pretend 
we'd always be together on this boat, sailing away from the things of man. 

Abruptly Blair asked, "Is Naomi paying you to sleep with me?"

"What? No! She's paying me to jump into a volcano!"

"*What*?" He flipped over and peered into my eyes.

Oh, jesus, talk about loose lips. "Um..."

"Jim! You want to tell me what's going on?" His expression was so confused, 
and he looked so cute. I owed him an explanation.

I hesitated, trying to think of the best way to describe the situation I'd 
found myself in. Finally I decided to just come right out and tell him. "I've 
got six months to live. Your mother needs this mineral, chatarra, I think 
it's called. The Chopecs on Isla del Volcan Repugnante have it, and they'll 
sell her the rights, but only if she can get them someone who'll throw 
himself into the volcano on their island. And... uh... that's where I come 
in." I finished in a rush.

He opened his mouth. Nothing came out, and he shut it. He repeated this a 
couple of times. Abraham Lincoln once said, "It is better to be silent and 
have men think you a fool, than to speak and remove all doubt." It appeared 
Blair was opting to remain silent.

"Say something, Blair!" I pleaded.

"You tell me you're dying. You tell me you're going to jump in a volcano. My 
mind is a blank." He frowned at me.  "You're really going to die?" 

"This is not something I would joke about, Blair. I'm going to wind up with 
the IQ of a bunch of broccoli, in a hospital bed, tethered to machines that 
will feed and water me like I'm some goddamned vegetable. I'll have as much 
control over my body as I did when I was a baby, but let me tell you 
something, my friend! Where people don't mind cleaning a baby when he's got a 
diaper full of shit, it's a whole 'nother ball of wax when it's a full grown 
male who's wearing that diaper! I refuse to sit still and wait for that to 
happen to me!" I caught the minute hitch of his breath, and it was my turn to 
look hurt. "You're scared of me, aren't you? You'd leave just like..." I 
couldn't help but think of how quickly Sandy had left my apartment when I'd 
told he I was going to die. "... just like someone else did, if we weren't on 
this boat, in the middle of the Pacific Ocean." 

"No, fuck it, I'm not scared! I'm so pissed I could chew nails." Suddenly, 
suspicion writ large across his face, he asked, "You're not telling me this 
just so I won't think what we have is more than a shipboard romance, are you? 
Because I know that!" I shook my head, and he pounded his hand on the 
mattress. "Shitshitshit!" His voice became almost inaudible. "I find someone 
who's given me the best sex I've ever... I've had in ages, who wasn't bought 
for me by my mother, and he's going to fucking die?" He scowled and spoke in 
a normal tone. "Talk about sucking big time!"

"Tell me about it, Darwin! I'm the one who'll be doing a swan dive into a 
crater filled with hot lava!"

"You don't have to sound so... accepting!" 

"What do you want me to do? Curse the fates? Curse myself for not living life 
to the full while I had the opportunity? The end isn't going to be pretty, 
Blair. I can control that, choose my time to die. And in the meantime, I'd 
like to spend what time I have left making love with you. Unless you don't 
want to..."

"Oh, no, Jim Ellison! I'm a greedy son of a bitch! I want every minute with 
you that I can get!" He blushed red in the soft glow of the lamp at the head 
of the berth. 

"Yeah?" I stroked a finger over the curve of his cheekbone.

"Yeah. Now, why don't we get some rest? I believe the next bones that are to 
be jumped are yours! I can get by on a few hours of sleep a night." My 
lover's breathing was becoming slower, and I settled him beside me again. 
"You know something, Jim? Naomi says almost the whole world is asleep. 
Everyone you know, everyone you see, everyone you talk to, they're all 
asleep. Those who are awake are in a state of constant, total amazement." He 
yawned and pillowed his head on my arm, his riot of curls tickling my throat 
and chin. Within a matter of minutes his heart rate had resumed its normal, 
steady beat, and he was sound asleep.

"You leave me in a constant state of amazement, babe." He mumbled something 
in his sleep, too indistinct even for my ears. "What was that?" His arms 
tightened around me, and he sighed, and the warmth of his breath tickled over 
my collarbone. I dropped a kiss on the top of his head. "I just wish we had 
more time."

****

True to his words, within a few hours, Blair was awake again, and this time 
he had me on my hands and knees, licking a path from the sensitive skin 
behind my balls to my hole. He pressed slicked fingers into me, preparing the 
way for his cock. I'd never had one so large, and I had to breathe through 
the burn and the sense of fullness. Once his cock found my prostate, though, 
I was totally awash in sensation and kept begging for more. He jerked me off 
while he pounded into my ass, but he was the one in control. Each time I was 
about to climax, he would squeeze the base of my cock, and the need would 
subside. He would drive me back into the vortex, shivering, swearing and 
sweating profusely until he finally decided it was time, and with one more 
deep, hard thrust, we both came.

It was one of the best orgasms I'd ever had, until a couple of hours later, 
when he woke me up again, and did it again, and proved that the first time 
hadn't been a fluke.

The last time, sometime just after dawn, neither of us had the energy to 
stumble into the head for a washcloth. We sank into an exhausted slumber; the 
berth was a wreck, and we were both covered with bruises and love bites and 
come. I was happier than I had ever been in my life.

When I woke up a couple of hours later, I was alone. 

####

Typhoon--Blair     

Jim was so exhausted I wasn't surprised that he didn't hear the soft tapping 
on the stateroom door, although he had surprised me a number of times by 
responding to something I'd said so quietly I couldn't understand how he'd 
heard me. I slipped out of bed and padded to the door, cracking it open 
enough to see that Joel was standing there. I rubbed my hair vigorously. 
"What's up, man?"

"Doesn't look good topside, Blair. You'd better come up and take a look. I 
think we're in for a blow!"

"Ah, fuck! I'll be there in ten minutes." I glanced regretfully over my 
shoulder. Jim was sprawled wantonly on the berth, his cock lying on his 
thigh, flaccid now. A flash of warmth spread through me as I recalled the 
night we had spent. I hadn't been able to get enough of him, and kept waking 
him up. I'd had no problem bottoming for him, but last night, after he told 
me he was going to die, that he was going to throw himself into a volcano, 
I'd needed to let him know how much I lo... wanted him, and I'd taken him 
again and again.

As if aware of my heated gaze, Jim's cock twitched. If it hadn't been for the 
threat of a storm, I would have spent the rest of the day in bed with him. I 
sighed and left his stateroom for mine. After a quick shower, I dressed and 
hurried up on deck.

Henri was waiting for me with a mug of hot coffee and a pineapple danish. 
"Thanks, H. Oh, jesus!" The sky was an eerie shade of green. There was a hush 
surrounding us. The sea was still, and the sails sagged on the rigging with 
no wind to belly them. That could change at any moment.

"Yeah."  His eyes were calm, though. We'd ridden out storms before. 

"I'll help Joel lower the sails." "Help Joel lower the sails." We swapped 
grins, and he hurried to find his partner and start getting the Tweedle Dee 
ready to face the storm. I went into the wheelhouse. 

The computer's Weatherfax program was running, and the VHF radio was 
announcing a typhoon warning. The meteorologist's voice was tight with 
restrained anxiety. Shit. This was not good. I'd been sure when I plotted 
this course that there was nothing in our path. I hated surprises. 

I went back onto the deck, and while Henri and Joel lowered and secured the 
sails, I went around battening the hatches. Then I got another cup of coffee, 
went fore and waited, the base of my neck tingling.

"Hey, Blair." Jim had come up behind me so quietly that I hadn't realized he 
was there, and I jumped. "It's a little weird today." 

"There's a typhoon warning. If we're lucky, it will pass to the south of us."

"I thought Joel said typhoon season was almost over."

"The key word being 'almost.'"

He took my coffee mug and sipped, frowning when his lips touched the rim. 
"Geez, I really hate pineapple danish!"

"How'd you know it was pineapple?" But although one part of my mind was 
curious about that, I wasn't really paying attention. 

Jim could see that. "Will we be okay?"

I rubbed my jaw. Normally I loved pitting myself against the raw forces of 
nature, but for some reason, I had a bad feeling about this storm. "I have 
confidence in me, and the guys, and this boat. The hatches are down, the 
sails are down. We're ahead of the game. Henri! Get the engines started. 
Joel! Head us into the wind, and keep us into the wind!" I handed Jim a life 
vest and slid into one myself.

"Right, skipper!" Both Henri and Joel were already wearing vests.

"Blair, there is no wind."

"There will be, Jim." As if on cue, the Tweedle Dee began to rock. Small 
waves slapped at her sides. The air became charged with static electricity, 
and a crooked lightning bolt split the sky.

****
                
Jim was with me in the wheelhouse. The guidance system had crapped out, and 
none of the electrical equipment was giving reliable readings. "Mayday, 
Mayday, Mayday. This is the Tweedle Dee. Latitude ten degrees, eight minutes 
south, longitude approximately one hundred degrees, eighteen minutes west. We 
are in severe distress! I say again, this is the Tweedle Dee, in severe 
distress!" My mouth was dry, and I slammed the microphone down. "Fuck! No way 
is anyone getting this!" 

"What can I do to help?" Jim was pale, but steadfast. Another wave slammed 
into her side, throwing him against me.

"Don't go on deck. Check on Henri. He's nursing the engines." Above the howl 
of the storm I heard an ominous, continuous thud. "Oh, christ! The main 
boom!" I ran out into the lashing wind and rain. The sea, what could be seen 
of it through the torrential downpour, was a caldron of dark, seething water. 
A hard hand landed on my shoulder. "Jim, what the fuck...?"

"What are you doing? You're going to get yourself killed!" We could see the 
boom swinging wildly in the wind. If the sail loosened and became waterlogged 
before I could get it under restraints, we would be in serious danger of 
capsizing.  

I slid coils of rope over my head and shoulder. "It's my boat!" I caught the 
ties that had snapped loose and grabbed for the boom, but before I could 
seize it, the boat was rocked by a particularly vicious wave that raised her 
up high. When it dropped out from under her, she seemed to hang suspended for 
a lifetime. And then the boom clipped me in the head, and the last thing I 
remember before blacking out was being flung over the side, knowing I was 
going to die, and knowing that I'd never told Jim...

####

The Raft--Jim 

"*Blair*!" I howled. I watched in helpless rage as that mother of a wave sent 
the boom crashing into him, knocking him overboard. Without even thinking 
about it, I went over the side after him, diving and surfacing, being slapped 
in the face by the never-ending cascade of water.

I rode the crest of a wave, and before I could be dropped into its trough, I 
saw him, unconscious, the only thing keeping his head above water the life 
vest that was taking a horrendous beating. I fought the waves. Somehow I 
managed to reach him and wound an arm around his chest, keeping him tight 
against me.

A sudden, ear-shattering scream rose, momentarily drowning even the shrieks 
of the storm, and I stared in shocked horror as a massive lightning bolt 
struck the Tweedle Dee. In the moments before she broke apart and sank, a 
small lifeboat was safely launched. "Joel! Henri!" The rain poured down 
relentlessly, and for every yard they managed to row toward us, they were 
pushed back three, until finally, the distance became so great I could no 
longer see them.

I held onto Blair, dazed and battered by the fury of the typhoon, and after 
what seemed like forever, the storm eased off, whether because we had reached 
the edge of its influence, or because it was simply losing strength I had no 
idea. I was just grateful it was no longer trying to make us swallow the 
entire contents of the Pacific Ocean.

Something large nudged my back, and I nearly pissed myself, images of Great 
White Sharks almost overcoming me. A glance over my shoulder revealed one of 
my steamer trunks, which the salesman had assured me were watertight. I 
blinked the salt water out of my eyes and saw that some distance away the 
other three had also surfaced. I manhandled Blair onto the one beside us, 
then struck out to round up the others.

I freed the rope he'd looped over his shoulder, and one by one, I brought 
each trunk in and tied it to the original. The four of them made a 
decent-sized raft. Panting heavily from the exertion, I struggled to haul 
myself up beside my unconscious lover and collapsed into a restless doze.

****

When I roused once again, it was to find the sun beating down on us with the 
intensity of a blast furnace. Our clothes had dried uncomfortably, stiff and 
crusted from the salt water that had soaked them. I needed a fresh change of 
clothes. I rolled to my knees and struggled with the locks of one of the 
trunks until I could get it opened. It contained the violin case bar, and I 
realized the trunk must have been one of the ones stowed in the hold. I 
pulled out the bar and opened the lone bottle of water it held. All I allowed 
myself was a single sip. I would save the rest for Blair.

He was still unconscious. His hair was matted with dried blood from a shallow 
cut over his left ear, and I was afraid the blow from the boom must have left 
him concussed. I found a clean handkerchief in the trunk and dampened it, 
then forced his mouth open and ran the handkerchief over his tongue and inner 
cheek and lips before wiping it over his face. 

Once that was done, I went rummaging for something for him to wear. I put 
aside the tux he'd worn our first night out on the Tweedle Dee. After he'd 
stumbled sleepily to his own cabin to dress, I'd folded it quickly and hidden 
it at the bottom of the trunk, wanting something of his for that time when I 
could have nothing but that lonely walk up the side of the volcano. 

I wanted him wearing something of mine. I found a cotton shirt that buttoned 
down the front. After I stripped off the life vest and his clothes, I got the 
shirt on him; it covered him halfway to his knees. It was a good look on him. 


Next I pulled out the world-band travel radio and turned it on, hoping for 
some news about the typhoon, but all I was able to pick up was a Spanish 
station that only played the oldies. 

I also found a large umbrella and propped it so Blair was shaded from the 
merciless glare of the sun. 

Buried under all that stuff was a medic kit, with enough first aid items to 
aid a battalion. And at the bottom of that were condoms and a few tubes of KY 
jelly. Well, it was nice to know I did have supplies, but truthfully, I'd 
rather have had a partner who was conscious.

Eventually, the sun began to sink, and even on the Tweedle Dee I hadn't seen 
such a gorgeous sunset. Pinks, oranges, violets, the hues flared brightly and 
then darkened. I lay on my back, staring into the night sky. The 
constellations were different from the ones I was used to seeing, and they 
took my breath away. 

It became cold. "Come on, Blair. Wake up for me. Please?" He shivered, and I 
tucked a throw that had been in another trunk around his shoulders. It was 
just one of the many things I had bought willy-nilly, and I was grateful for 
that unbridled shopping spree. 

From behind my shoulder light spilled onto my lover's face, and he frowned, 
although he still didn't waken. The moon was slowly rising in the sky. It was 
huge and majestic, and I felt my insignificance. I wasn't a religious man, 
but I was overcome by the sheer magnitude of that spectacle, and the Being 
who created it.

I clasped my hands together and continued to stare up at the moon. "Dear god, 
whose name I do not know, thank you for my life. I forgot how *big*... Thank 
you." A single tear slid down my cheek. "And thank you for this man who you 
have brought into it."

I angled Blair so the moon was no longer shining in his face, then spooned 
behind him to share my body warmth. 

#### 

The Raft--Blair 

I woke up feeling like shit. The top of my head was threatening to explode, 
my eyes were gritty, and my stomach wanted to climb out through my throat. 
The last thing I could remember eating was the danish Henri had handed to me, 
and that made a hasty exit moments after I sat up. Fortunately I managed to 
lean over the side of whatever it was I was floating on.

Once my stomach had finished emptying itself, I sank back and tried to take 
stock of my surroundings. This was some kind of makeshift raft. Beneath my 
fingers, the surface felt rough and uneven. I raised my head cautiously, 
trying to spot the Tweedle Dee, but she was nowhere in sight.

From behind me was a soft snuffling noise. I risked a glance over my 
shoulder. Jim Ellison lay there, dreaming. "Wake up, babe. You have to wake 
up!" I seemed to remember hearing that in my sleep, and now it was my turn to 
say it. I curved my hand over his cheek. It was scratchy from an incipient 
beard and dried salt water.

"Jim. Jim!" I saw a bottle of water poking out from whatever it was we were 
floating on, and crawled over to retrieve it. There was a bottle of whiskey 
near it. I couldn't stand the taste in my mouth, and rinsed it with the 
liquor. Then I crawled back and poured some water over his lips.

That brought him to consciousness with a vengeance. He bolted upright. "No!" 

I eased an arm around his shoulder and held him close to me. "Didn't you have 
any water for yourself?"

Jim tried to thrust the bottle away without spilling any of the precious 
drops. "No! That's for Blair!"

"Are you trying to kill yourself, Jim? Drink some of this! Don't make me have 
to get tough with you!"

His eyes opened. He licked his lips, and I managed to get some water past 
them and into his mouth. He blinked furiously and finally focused on me. 
"Blair?"

"You were expecting maybe Robinson Crusoe?" I joked feebly as I stroked his 
hair. "Where did you find this raft?"

"It's my trunks. I linked them together with the rope you had around you. 
They surfaced when the Tweedle Dee..." He stopped abruptly.

As much as I was afraid to ask, I had to know. "What happened to the Tweedle 
Dee?"

He hesitated, then looked away. "She sank."

My gut clutched. "Henri and Joel?"

"The last I saw, they'd managed to launch a lifeboat. They tried to reach us, 
but they kept getting blown further and further away." He was silent for a 
moment. "If there's any justice in this life, they'll have made it." 

We both knew exactly how much justice there was. I closed my eyes and said a 
brief prayer for my friends, hoping against hope that they might have 
survived. "How long have we been drifting?"

"This will be our second night." 

"We could be anywhere." I looked at the umbrella and the afghan and the 
bottle of water. "I don't suppose you've got a compass in one of these 
trunks, do you?" He dug up a cigarette lighter. "Jim, I'm not my brother. I 
don't smoke."

His grin was tired, but nothing short of smug. He did something to the 
lighter that I couldn't see, then extended his hand, and nestled in his palm 
was a small, round compass. He studied it carefully. "We seem to be drifting 
in an easterly direction."

"Maybe we'll reach land before we starve or die of thirst."

"But you're not too hopeful. I thought I was supposed to be the pessimist of 
this duo." He drew me back into the notch of his legs. 

"Generally speaking, I'd have to agree, but I think this time," I kneeled up 
and took a gulp of water, then brought his mouth to mine and fed him the 
liquid that way, "this time I'll beg to differ. I think we're gonna die, 
Jim." I leaned back against him.

"Devious son of a bitch!" He'd been surprised and had swallowed reluctantly. 
I could feel his shrug against my spine, and his large palms stroked down 
over my chest. "We're all gonna die, babe. No one gets out of this life 
alive." 

"But not yet!" The words were a soundless protest. "Not now, when I've just 
found you!" He hummed happily, and I turned my head to gaze back into his 
cool blue eyes. They were heated. "Huh? What's that all about?"

"Nothing, babe." But he kissed my jaw. "Listen, Blair, how close to the 
island were we when the typhoon hit?"

"About a thousand klicks."

He did a fast calculation in his head. "That's about five hundred and forty 
nautical miles."

"Yeah. So?" 

"Is it possible the storm drove us closer than you think?"

"Anything is possible, Jim. I just don't know. We could be anywhere along the 
South American coast. Shit, that bitch of a storm could even have driven us 
toward Asia. If we'd been sailing in the Atlantic, I'd say we'd hit the 
Bermuda Triangle."

His head suddenly whipped around. "What was that?"

"What was what? I don't hear anything."

"Sounds like breakers."

"I still don't hear anything."

"Look! Over there!"

"Okay, fine. I don't *see* anything!"

"Blair!" He took my face in his hands and turned it until I was looking due 
east. 

"What...?"

"Canoes! Out-riggers! Look! We're saved!"

I gasped. I didn't see the canoes, not then, they were too far away. But I 
could see, rising high on the horizon, the smoking hulk of a huge volcano. 

Jim's arms tightened around me, becoming almost painful. "*You're* saved."

"What?" And then I remembered. He still had a date with a volcano.


Isla del Volcan Repugnante--Jim 

There were about twenty canoes, each one holding four men whose faces were 
decorated with red markings.

The Chopec in the lead canoe paddled closer to our make-shift raft. "Are you 
Jim?"

I nodded, but it seemed that wasn't verification enough.

"Are you Jim... *Ellison*?" 

I nodded again, and he shouted something over his shoulder in another 
language, and the men in the other boats let out a roar of satisfaction. "You 
come with me. Is this your..." The word he spoke was in the same strange 
language.

Suddenly I was afraid they would try to make me leave Blair behind. I put my 
arm around his shoulder and held him securely. "He comes with me, or you 
don't get your hero!"

"I am Incacha, shaman of the tribe. You are both welcome! Now, if you will 
enter my canoe, I will take you to Isla del Volcan Repugnante."

I made sure Blair was safely in the canoe before I climbed in behind him. "My 
trunks?"

Incacha spoke to his men, and four canoes separated from the others and 
paddled into position, two on each side. "It shall be taken care of." He 
gestured toward the island, and we began to skim over the waves.

"This is so cool, Jim!" Blair whispered excitedly as he leaned back against 
me. "The language Incacha is speaking is Quechua."

"How do you know that?" 

"I have a master's in anthropology! That's what I taught at Rainier."

"Do you know what he's saying?" The shaman had been carrying on a 
conversation with an older man in another canoe, and I was a little leery of 
the glances Blair had been garnering.

"It's been a long time since I heard it spoken. I can pick up some of it." 
Blair's brow was furrowed in concentration. "Tonight we'll have a..." A smile 
lit his deep blue eyes, and he licked his lips in happy anticipation. "... a 
big feast, Jim! After the feast, you will..." Abruptly, he turned so pale 
that I thought he was going to faint.

"Blair, what is it? What's wrong?" I was beginning to panic. "Is it your 
head?"

The expression in his eyes was horrified. 

The shaman faced me implacably.  "After the feast, you will jump into Volcan 
Repugnante. Okay?"

I didn't want to end my life, not now, not when I had finally found someone I 
could... I could care about. But I thought of that goddamned brain cloud, of 
how the end would be if I didn't jump, of the tubes, and the IV lines, and my 
brain turning to mush. I didn't want Blair to see me like that. I raised my 
head and met the shaman's gaze. "Okay."

tbc