“Public…” Adam repeated, trying to think of all the possible implications. Going public was a terrifying proposal but even he knew that on their present course it would only be a matter of time before the federal agents zeroed in on them…and if that happened? Well they’d probably live, but he had visions of being whisked away to some remote federal prison facility unknown to any but the highest ranking government officials, and never be seen again. But would going public stop that from happening? Adam just didn’t know.
“… also the Cummings Life Center is at the University of Chicago,” Christine continued, “if I could get access perhaps I could find some answers before irrational fear takes over.”
“Fear?” Adam hissed.
Christine nodded. “Yes…the public is going to experience a great deal of fear before all of this is over,” she added then fell silent as Vio moved forward.
“Here…take my seat,” Christine offered. “I have a hard time eating like this anyway,” she added, standing. She patted Adam on the shoulder and slipped past Vio, grinning as she moved back and to the kitchen table. Vio was truly beautiful, exotic…movie star stunning and mysterious. Her brother was a very lucky man and Vio was a very lucky woman.
Vio settled into the chair next to Adam and shot him a quick smile. He smiled back, his heart thumping in his chest at the sight of her.
“I am getting used to cars,” Vio said simply. “They are not so much magic to me anymore. Planes though,” she added with another dazzling smile. “I would very much desire to ride through the sky on a plane.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Adam replied and couldn’t help but smile back. The woman’s very presence was intoxicating and he had to force himself to relax his grip on the steering wheel. He was white knuckling it without even realizing he was tense. He felt like an inexperienced kid; the woman by his side was always so calm and under control and all she had to do was smile at him to cause his heart to race and his knees to turn to jelly. He was far too old for such foolishness.
‘So she kissed me…so what,’ he thought as he struggled to find something else to say. ‘Maybe it was just a onetime thing…something about that night. She’s not tried anything since...and neither have I. I’m an asshole.’ Adam struggled with his feelings and insecurities for another mile or so before Vio leaned over close. Her hair smelled divine.
“I want to have you,” she said in that mind blowing easy manner of hers. “You want to have me too I think…yes?”
Adam jerked and gazed into her eyes, which at the moment were a pair of dark pools and they trapped his soul like a set of deadly tar pits, at least until the RV veered off onto the shoulder again. The right tires rumbled ominously and Adam jerked the big vehicle back onto the highway in surprise. Vio laughed.
“Yes?” she asked again.
Adam grinned, his face growing hot. “Yes!” he answered emphatically.
Vio nodded clearly satisfied. “I’m ready,” she told him as Ned weaved his way toward the front cabin. “You may have me.”
“You’re must be tired, you’re all over the road,” Ned said jovially as he leaned against the back of the captain’s chair. “Why don’t you pull over at the next rest area?”
Adam nodded, utterly unable to speak.
XXI
“Creativity is the reflection of God.”
Galen Dawkins
May 20th 2015 Old Earth
Pace Manzlo rode at the head of the thirty plus group of cycles along highway 191 just north of Arches National Park. The scenery was breathtaking but Pace barely noticed. Pace was in a bad mood, the bitch back in Durango had seen to that.
Carla…that was her name, and through the fog of his hangover what Pace remembered most about her was that she smelled amazing. ‘Like pussy and flowers,’ he thought and had to fight down an erection. The gang happened across her at a Shell station outside Pagosa Springs, Colorado. Most people they encountered on the road were intimidated by the noise and power of the bikes, but Carla was not.
“What kinda bike is that?” She’d asked Pace as she filled up her Honda Civic, then she smiled.
“Chopper,” he’d answered giving her body the quick once over. She was wearing a tight pair of blue jeans and a cropped white shirt that showed a good deal of her belly. She looked good to Pace. “Harley,” he finished, somewhat surprised that the woman was talking to him. Pace knew he was not a handsome man and though he’d had his share of women it was not his looks that attracted them.
“Looks hard to ride,” she commented then slammed the gas nozzle back into its cradle.
Pace smiled crookedly at her…an expression that made most who knew him uneasy, at least those who did not realize that his death smile and sex smile were one and the same. “Takes a bit of getting used to,” he told her and then got the first whiff of her perfume mixed with the heavy smell of gasoline.
“You out joy riding?” She’d asked looking around at the parking lot which was filled with leather clad men and women, but before Pace could answer Carla crossed over the center island to get a better look at his bike. Pace was a little stunned at the woman’s daring and he wondered briefly if she had a death wish…or possibly a sex wish.
“Yeah joy riding,” he answered and studied her ass as she studied his bike. “Up to Monticello,” he finished and didn’t bother to raise his eyes as she turned around. He figured she’d caught him looking but apparently she didn’t mind. Pace was encouraged. He liked women who didn’t mind a bit of ogling.
“I’m heading to Ogden myself…mind if I tag along,” she’d asked boldly. Pace glanced down at her tits, which were not large, but they couldn’t be considered small either and nodded.
“Honey,” Pace replied, “I’d give you a ride myself if you didn’t have a car.”
And so for the remainder of the afternoon she’d tagged along all the way out to Crawford’s place where they stayed the night. Carla came with them willingly and seemingly unafraid. She’d stayed close to Pace during the evening, driving him mad with her scent and mostly keeping quiet except to tell her story of dropping out of college and leaving her parents behind in Baltimore. Much to Pace’s pleasure, she drank as hard as he did and made no move to leave as the night grew late…not that he would have let her leave. He’d been sporting a semi-erection for most of the night and it had her name written all over it. He thought she might require a bit of persuading, but her clothes were off well before his and as it turned out his second, third and fourth erection also had her name on them. In the end he’d passed out while she fondled him, apparently attempting a fifth.
When he woke in the morning she was gone, along with her Honda and his money. They’d found his wallet lying in the dirt beside the tire tracks that took her car out onto the gravel road that led to highway 191. No one laughed at his predicament, but deep inside he knew they all were amused.
‘Little bitch!’ He thought and could barely control his rage at being rolled even though he’d only lost a couple a hundred bucks…it was the principle involved that riled him. She’d made him feel used and if they ever crossed paths again she’d pay. It hardly mattered that he’d easily spent the same amount of money on hookers and had never been fucked so good, or so many times by any of them. Hell, it only came out to fifty bucks a poke…a very good deal, but again, it was the principle of the matter.
Pace stewed the entire ride up the eastern portion of Utah. It didn’t help his mood that he was now completely broke and his dick was sore.
They needed a job…easy money and as they rode Pace knew exactly what to do. They’d hit an isolated campground; clean out the business and the city vacationers. They’d pulled similar jobs in the past and all had been a breeze, though at times the yield left something to be desired. Pace didn’t care about that; any money was good money when you were broke.
The group turned west onto I-70 as Pace remembered a place that would be perfect for an in and out robbery. It was well off the interstate near Goblin Va
lley State Park and far from any real town; a perfect setting for a little thievery…perhaps a little rape…maybe a little murder. Pace smiled as he rode, and only he knew that it was his death smile and not his sex smile. At the moment his dick was still throbbing from the previous night, so murder held far more attraction for him than rape.
†
Armstrong read the report on the assassin Torres’s death and suddenly shivered in his seat. He glanced around the trailer to see if anyone was eyeing him but everyone was busy at something. The team continued to try to dig up some clue as to the whereabouts of Dawkins and his group. It had been over two weeks now and nothing, not a whiff. The fugitives had eluded them completely. They might as well have fallen off the face of the Earth. The alert was now nationwide…no continent wide. Canada was officially informed to be on the lookout for the group this morning…Mexico was next, but Armstrong had his doubts about Dawkins heading south.
“God have you tried the wings?” Agent Collier asked sitting down with a plate of Buffalo wings and a handful of napkins. Armstrong barely looked up.
“I’m normally not one for wings but these have an incredible flavor…not just heat you know?” Collier continued, at first unaware that her boss was completely oblivious to her presence. “What’s up?” She asked when she finally noticed his introspective mood.
Armstrong looked up at her…vacantly at first and then he focused on her face. “Have you seen this?” He asked and pushed the paper across the desk to her. He studied his new second in command as her eyes tracked down to the paper. Agent Collier was not attractive, her face was far too wide and blunt, but she kept her hair long, feminine and Armstrong liked that. Too many women in the agency tried to look like men, as if that would help their careers.
Collier scanned the article, careful not to get any sauce on the paper. “The abortion clinic killer? So?” She asked passing the paper back.
“He was killed in South Dakota…with a bladed weapon,” Armstrong answered then his eyes glazed over once more.
Collier shrugged and took another sloppy bite of chicken. “Hit men and fanatics die sometimes. Good riddance I say,” she added, paused a moment, then added smartly. “You think it’s that woman!” She yelped, more a statement than a question.
At first Armstrong said nothing. “You know there are times when I can still feel my hand,” he finally said holding up his stump before her. “Sometimes it feels as if I have to crack my knuckles…knuckles I don’t have any more, but the worst is the itching. Usually drives me crazy with nothing to scratch, but you know…as I started reading the article about Torres, my hand began to itch, this hand,” he finished indicating his missing limb.
Collier just raised her eyebrows and continued eating. “You really should try the wings,” she answered.
“Laugh if you want,” he told her growing angry. “I can’t prove it and have no real reason to believe it, but I think that crazy bitch might be behind this.”
“I’m not laughing,” Collier replied, “but what the hell would Torres want with her? She’s not a practicing doctor.”
Armstrong shrugged. “What the hell was he doing in South Dakota anyway…and out in the middle of nowhere…not even near a large city.”
“Maybe he was on vacation,” Collier quipped then slid the plate of wings closer to Armstrong. He took one, thinking.
“You want me to look into it?”
Armstrong nodded and took a bite. “Jesus…these are good.”
†
“No,” Avigail instructed late one afternoon, showing Galen the proper stance with a pair of improvised katas, “you have to hold your guard higher. Someone will cut your head off if you don’t keep your arms up.”
“Cut my head off,” Galen repeated with a smile and then moved in with a clumsy attack. Avigail blocked it with ease.
“Better,” she encouraged though it was painfully obvious that Galen would never be a swordsman. He had little natural ability and all his moves were telegraphed and stiff. Avigail only thought to give him a break from the intense concentration demanded in the art of projection, a talent he excelled at, though as yet he’d been unable to create a vortex. To be fair he did warn her that his body was not quite ready for Traveling. Still Avigail was getting impatient. Was this not the real Galen Dawkins, the leader of her world, the visionary, the philosopher; the first man among her people; the man who led them to the lands of the Inland Sea? Of course he’d shown small hints of genius and he had a natural charisma which attracted those around him, but for the most part it seemed to be all talk. Had she really left her world, her family and friends behind to share a life with a simple, but gifted orator?
Avigail attacked slowly, hiding her amusement at Galen’s clumsy defense.
“You’re thinking too much,” she told him after scoring a light hit on his right thigh.
“Yes…” Galen answered and smiled at her and Avigail’s heart did a little flip. Avigail did not understand her growing attraction to the young man, oh he was handsome enough, but no more than any of the myriad of boys who pursued her back on her own world. And though she realized that he was in fact Galen Dawkins, up to this point there seemed to be little special about the young man, certainly nothing that would have spurred her to cross worlds for him. But despite her ignorance, her attraction persisted. The fact that Galen had shown no signs of becoming physical, had not even attempted to kiss her, only seemed to cause her desire to grow in intensity. Surprisingly, Avigail found that she longed for Galen as much physically as she did mentally, which confused her greatly. Up until recently Avigail was able to keep her bodily passions carefully under control. No boy, no matter how gorgeous, had come close to making her lose control, at least not until now. Galen was tall and he was quickly filling out, but his growth spurt seemed to have come to a halt for the most part. He had a strong handsome face, but Avigail could find nothing overly remarkable about his looks…or his body, though she found herself thinking about his arms…and hands. At times she wondered what they would feel like on her body, touching her. It was a fantasy she indulged in far too much for her peace of mind.
“Avigail,” Galen said staring at her with an intensity that made her feel uneasy. He stepped forward and stood very close, so close she could smell the sweat on him. “I’m almost there…it won’t be long now and I will be able to join you.”
Avigail gazed up at him, wanting desperately to touch him but refrained. They stood still, staring into each other’s eyes for what seemed a very long time, the spell only broken by the abrasive sound of motorcycles, a great many motorcycles entering the campground.
†
Far back in the grounds, lying beneath the branches of stunted trees, along a sandy bank of a small, nearly empty creek, Adam heard the roar of the motorcycles as they approached. He let out a small groan, but even so he was very happy and probably grinning like a fool. A little over an hour ago Vio had gathered up a blanket and a few bottles of water and then grabbed him by the hand. She led him away from Ned and Dorothy’s campsite, apparently completely unembarrassed by the looks they were getting as they sauntered away. Adam, though flushed, went willingly, and as she guided him into the trees and along the banks of the creek his excitement grew. They followed the creek no more than three hundred yards to the south, just far enough so that the noise of the campgrounds was behind them and then she gracefully descended a steep bank that led down to a wide sandbar. Adam stumbled his way down behind her, his heart beating wildly in his chest as she released his hand and turned to face him.
‘Your move,’ he thought crazily but he remained decidedly motionless. Vio was staring at him intensely, holding him captive with her eyes. She was almost too beautiful to be real; she must be a painting or a statue, but then in one smooth movement she pulled her top up and over her head. Adam sucked in a breath. She was braless, patently refused to wear them according to his sister, and she smiled shyly as he gawked at her in wonder. Her breasts were full, but firm wit
h very dark brown nipples. Her belly was very flat and her arms were toned. She had the body aerobics instructors dream about, and Adam vaguely wondered if she was about to kill him.
“You may have me now,” she whispered and slowly began to move forward. Adam needed no further encouragement and lifted her into his arms; suddenly they were kissing, exploring and stripping all at once. In a flash they were naked and laying on the sandy bank, hungrily discovering all the delights the other had to offer. The first time was hard and fast, both intent on satisfying a driving need, and it left them wanting so much more. Once they caught their breath, Vio rose and brushed the sand from her arms and legs. Adam quickly stood and helped her, using his hand to remove the coarse particles first from the nape of her neck, then her shoulders and the small of her back…and finally from her perfectly formed rump.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered into her hair, as he hugged her from behind.
“More?” She asked and Adam nodded eagerly.
Vio laughed and this time spread the blanket out in the sand and then in that graceful way she moved she flowed down and reclined back on the blanket, waiting. Adam stared down at her a moment, feeling incredibly lucky. Smiling widely, he dropped down next to her. This time he moved slowly and used his hands and mouth to gradually bring Vio to the edge. When he finally entered her, she clutched at him so tightly with her arms and legs that Adam wondered if he’d even be able to move. Magically he could, and it pushed Vio steadily, inescapably toward the edge…and then over.
“Oh…Adam,” she cried, biting into his shoulder, her body tensing up as multiple spasms rippled through her. Over and over again she shuddered and before she was finished Adam joined her.
They were quietly resting from their third coupling when the sound of motorcycles ended the idyllic bliss of the afternoon.
The Best of All Possible Worlds Page 35