New fears troubled him as they mounted the stairs, Jackie viewing her surroundings with undisguised awe. They were going to share a bed, his own single bed, which meant that they would be crushed up tightly together. He should have been aroused, mankind's strongest urge taking over. Instead, his stomach rolled and he felt sick; perhaps she was aware of his trembling, misinterpreted it for eagerness.

Phil Winder had often wondered if he was gay. No, not really, he just had a very low sex drive, and he was naturally shy of girls. He had had only one real date in his life, Julie who worked in the cafe at Pontypridd, the one that most of the students used. It had taken him six weeks before he had been able to stammer out a request to take her out and it had been a real shock to him when she had nodded her assent and replied, 'Yes, that would be nice.'

Christ, it had to be his biggest anti-climax, an evening of embarrassment and overwhelming inhibitions. He hadn't even kissed her goodnight, knew she didn't want to see him again, knew it would happen again with any girl he dated. Later he got an erection but it was too late then.

Maybe he wasn't exactly gay, just bi-sexual. He hadn't had a homosexual relationship as such, just little things that had happened between himself and Hugh during the time they had shared digs. Two of a kind really, and there had to be an outlet for their frustrations somewhere.

It was Hugh who had begun it, and looking back it seemed relatively harmless. Or was it? Was it just the beginning of something which had never had the opportunity to come to fruition? The most thrilling moment of his life had been that night when he had been disturbed from a doze by Hugh sitting on the edge of his bed. Phil knew even before the other's hand began to creep beneath the sheets exactly what was going to happen. A moment of electrification and this time there was no embarrassment, no inhibitions because he knew Hugh felt the same way.

It had never ever gone further than gentle mutual masturbation, had lasted for over a year until Hugh graduated. Then Phil's loneliness came seeping back. Now he had a woman and his fears were beginning all over again.

'I'm Phil.' He tapped his bare chest, wished that he could keep her eyes elevated. 'Phil. . . Phil . . .' 'Jac,' she smiled.

He wondered why they had not got around to introductions before. It was the situation, of course. Names counted for nothing in a primitive classless society.

She crossed to the bed, lowered herself on to it, stretched herself out, eyes closed, legs slightly apart. Oh Christ, now it's me who's doing the looking, he thought, let his gaze sweep over her, come to rest on that slit of pink soft flesh. I'd better look out some clothes, some pyjamas maybe.

Her eyes flickered open, caught him staring at her; smiled softly. She had no inhibitions, only civilisation bred inhibitions. Society was gone, it was back to the basics now. He didn't need clothes because it was stifling hot in here. Right now they didn't need anything except each other.

It was fully dark when Phil Winder awoke, lay there and let everything come back to him in its own time. His parents, his capture and escape, the flight . . . Jac! He could hear her faint breathing, felt the warmth of her naked body against his own. So comforting.

Euphoria because they had made love. She had clung to him, wanted him, and now they were together. He did not ever want things to change and spoil all this. He didn't want his parents to come back; they wouldn't, he knew that. They might even be dead and he wasn't a bit sorry because they had made him like he was, given him a sheltered upbringing in every respect. They had sent him to a private school, not for his benefit but as a boost to their own status, wealthy farmers who bought only the best in life for themselves and their only son. Bullshit! They scraped a living, spent their money on building up a facade for the benefit of this scattered community, went without a lot of things that ordinary folks took for granted. And this is what they had done to him. God, he hated them for it, but he'd had the last laugh. This place was his now, every damned piece of stone, every field, every item of machinery. No bloody good to him but it was his and he still had his mind and body intact which was more than either of them had. It was bloody funny. He laughed to himself at the memory of his parents as he had last seen them, two mindless wretches fleeing from their own son because he was the Master Species and they knew it. He hoped they were dead, it would be better for them and for himself. That way a lot of problems were solved.

That just left himself and the girl who called herself Jac. They would live on here, build their own life, cut themselves off from the rest of the world and the remnants of its festering existence. Keep away, we don't need you.

Phil's euphoria took a nosedive. It wouldn't be quite as easy as that because he and Jac were the hunted, fugitives on the run. He had stolen another man's woman, enraged those awful creatures in human shape and they would track him down. They wouldn't give up.

Phil Winder's sweat chilled on his body at the thought. If they found him it would be a fight to the death. But he and Jac could not keep on running for ever.

Up in the hills the wild dogs were howling again. They, too, scented death in the sultry night air.

ERIC ATKINSON had never been the gregarious type, as he had frequently sought to impress upon Sylvia. He didn't like parties, dancing, mixing with people. And even in this reversion to his most basic existence this trait had not changed. He and Marlene had fled the town, headed for wild open countryside. On the way others had joined them, a mass exodus, but he had never envisaged it being this way once they arrived at wherever they were going. Safety in numbers now but later they would all split up.

He did not like community life, it was in contrast to his nature. A dwelling-place somewhere for himself and Marlene, away from the others. But suddenly they were caught up in village life, expected to play their part. You built houses, hunted game, fished the river.

He told Marlene that they should be moving on, was both surprised and angered by her reluctance. She liked it here> she wanted to stay. The other men liked her, too, and that worried him. But there was something else disturbing him, too. It came and went and once it was gone his limited power of reasoning was unable to recall it, creating an unease which unsettled him, made him moody, truly the brooding loner.

But whilst the feeling lasted it was veFy strong. Up until now it had always come upon him at night, waking him out of the deepest slumber, already fully aroused but Marlene by his side was ignored. Sliding out of the bed they shared, a naked hairy being that smoothed his hands over his own body, felt the pulsing that drove him like pistons hammering inside him. Alert, sleep forgotten, going outside and sniffing the night air with dilated.nostrils. He smelled her, oh how he smelled her, her musky scent wafted to him on the breeze, filling him with a desire that transcended lust; the dog scenting a bitch on heat, two or three miles away, maybe even further. Inexplicable but compelling, a calling stronger than anything else that the forces of Nature could engender. One mate and one mate alone that mattered; and it was not Marlene.

The first time he had followed the scent, left the settlement and keeping the wind in his face had gone where it led. Steep and treacherous slopes, forced to travel on hands and knees in places, wanting to answer the call but not knowing whom or where, only that it was intended for him and none other.

Running, bounding, desperate for the mating. And then suddenly it was no more! The wind had swung round, taken it elsewhere. Frustrated, he circled the knoll, tried to pick it up again but it was gone. Mad with desire, finally giving vent to his feelings in the only way he knew how and even then he was not satisfied.