by Audrey Drake
“How many bullets do you have left?” I heard Ethan ask Walter.
“Four. Not enough. What about you?”
“Where are you guys?!” I interrupted frantically. “I can help!”
They ignored me.
“A clip and a half.” Ethan solemnly responded. “I’ll cover you.”
“No. We ride together…”
“And die together.” Ethan interrupted Walter to finish his own words. “Go.”
“Ethan!” I screamed hysterically. “Ethan answer me!” Tears now streaming down my face.
“Les.” He spoke softly. Softer than I had ever heard his voice get before. “Take care of yourself.”
His feed cut out after the echo of gunshots. My face was covered in the moisture that pooled from the corners of my eyes. I sat frozen in the dead of night.
“Leslie.” Walter panted. “Leslie, I am coming out the rear of the building. Can you be here?”
Without saying a word I gunned the car around the opposite side of the warehouse. I saw Walter running to me, spotlights from the rooftop prodding the ground for his whereabouts. He took two last shots, taking out the men who had followed him out the door, and threw his gun into the night.
I jumped out of the car and screamed, “Where’s Ethan.”
He shook his head and grabbed me by the shoulders, pulling on my defiant body to get me back into the driver’s seat.
“No! No, I can’t. I won’t! Not without Ethan!”
“Leslie don’t be a fool!” He Pleaded. “Get in the damn car!”
“Leslie get in the car.” Davis spoke up from his brief silence.
Walter’s strength finally overtook me, and he slammed the passenger door closed just as my curled up legs touched the leather of the seat.
My noise had long since compromised our position, and a rain of bullets clattered on the bullet proof roof as Walter hopped inside and flung the car forward.
I spun around and stared at the exit to the warehouse out of the rear window, praying to anyone who would answer me for the door to open and to see Ethan’s stout frame come running out. To see his white V-neck, translucently drenched in sweat, emerge unscathed. My prayers were not answered.
“What the hell?” Walter muttered.
I glanced over to see him patting at the pockets of his dark blue jeans.
“I don’t have the detonator.” He said bewildered. “I could have sworn that Ethan gave it to…” His voice trailed off as a loud boom rattled the air around us.
Quickly, I returned my gaze to the building, which was now engulfed in flames. The previously pitch black night was now an orange glow that that burning building was emitting. I felt Walter’s right hand pat me on the shoulder, as the steady stream of tears turned to a heavy sob that violently shook my body with each gasping breath.
Chapter Two
Two Months Later
I ran into the peppered spray of bullets and raindrops, miraculously staying clean from the piercing penetration that would have ended me. I screamed at the top of my lungs, “Ethan!” I removed my pistol from its holstered spot between my belt and the bare skin of my hip. My finger repeatedly pulled the trigger, mowing down any unwanted adversary that met my path as I ripped open the door of Lau’s Daytona warehouse and plunged into the darkness that awaited me. My body moving in slow motion, I descended the metal steps that led to the basement of this godforsaken drug highway.
Two more of Lau’s men met my path in a long corridor, but they were no match for me. Before they could raise their weapons, my right finger flexed twice.
Bang. Bang.
Both bodies fell in a heap to the floor, and I continued my rescue mission. Hugging the walls, I crept along the hallway in search of the man I adored so much. I tiptoed into a dark cavernous room, straining my eyes to better adjust themselves to this pitch blackness.
A crack of lightning illuminated the room briefly through a small window at the top of the far wall. Just long enough for me to make out a figure slumped over in the corner.
“Ethan.” I whispered.
No reply. I continued to silently glide across the floor, when another bolt of lightning preceded a deep rumble of thunder. Just long enough for me to make out a face, and a smooth shaved bald head.
My pace quickened, sprinting over to Ethan’s body. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket to shine it in the corner where he resided.
Two circular crimson red spots stained his white V-neck. Ethan sat motionless, head hanging limply pointing at the floor; back resting against the cold damp wall of the basement, legs outstretched in front of him. His hands sat limp on the seat of his pants, with the detonator resting on them like a basket of bread.
“Ethan…” I whispered again. “Ethan get up.”
I knelt down in front of him and reached a solitary hand out to touch his face, when a sudden movement startled me almost to the point of losing my balance.
He raised his head up to make eye contact with me. A small smirk was the only expression that his face had to offer. His eyes looked cold, and as black as the night that surrounded him.
I reached forward once more.
With a motion that had to be the last of the strength his body had left, Ethan lifted his thumb to the red button on the small black box that his hands could not even lift.
“Ethan, wait!”
His thumb pressed down.
My body leapt upright to a 90 degree angle. A cold sweat was trickling down my face from its origin above my brow.
Another dream.
In the months that followed Ethan’s death, the three of us moved far away from Florida. Davis moved the solitude hills of Northern Washington. I had not heard a word from him since the day we said goodbye.
A single tear meandered down Davis’ face that blistering Florida day. He wrapped both of his arms around me, and whispered something into my ear that I will never forget.
“He loved you, Leslie.”
I hoped that he had found peace and tranquility in the mountains, but could not bring myself to call him. I was too broken. Hearing his voice over a telephone would revert me back to the last time I heard his voice in my ear through a cellular device. When he spoke to me over the Bluetooth headset on that dreary night in Daytona.
“Leslie get in the car.”
Why did I get in the car? Why did I not risk my life to save Ethan like he had risked his to save us?
My tattered and depressed mind could not help but think that the recurring dreams were speaking to me in some way. A constant midnight terror reminder that in Ethan’s last moments, he was alone. Beaten, bruised, wounded, as his girlfriend and best friend rode off safely into the night. Had he sat alone in that basement, hunched over in the corner, using his last ounce of strength to finish the job for us?
The truth of that scenario plagued my thoughts. If that were not the case, and Ethan’s soul was not behind my dreams in some way, then how were the details always so vivid? I had never set foot in that warehouse, yet the schematics of the place always remained identical each night. I took the same route through the door, down the stairs, and killed the same two guards in the same long corridor each time. Ethan’s body was in the exact corner, in the exact position on the floor with his back against the wall. And the detonator always lay on his lap, sitting atop his limp hands. If I had pushed Walter off of me, and ran into the building, would saving him have been that easy?
This conclusion always brought me to my feet and out of bed. I could not let my depression ridden imagination get the better of me. This is the way Ethan would have wanted it; the three people he cared for the most were safe and sound.
I walked out of my bedroom and through the hallway that lead to the front of my new house. The salty smell of freshly cooked bacon filled my nostrils. I stopped my pace, closed my eyes, and breathed a deep breath of the breakfast aroma that hung in the air.
When I stepped into the kitchen, the culprit behind this morning concoction stood with h
is back to me, short blond bead head stuck in all directions.
“How’d ya sleep?” Walter asked, hearing my bare feet pat onto the tile.
“Eh, about the same as usual.” I lied. I had not told anyone about the dreams.
“Well, we are a truffle short of a five star meal, but I think this will suffice.” He turned to me and grinned.
Platters of pancakes, bacon, eggs, and toast lie in a row on the counter.
“I am just finishing up this last batch of bacon. Go ahead and fix yourself a plate. Ladies first.”
I did not have to be told twice. Breakfast had always been my favorite meal of the day. Even though the 12 o’clock hour had this placed in the normal time frame of lunchtime, I was happy to devour the meal that sat before me.
Chapter Three
After the Daytona produced separation, Walter came with me to Kansas to keep a watchful eye on me. He knew how hard that night was for me, and promised me to stay as long as he needed to. Half of the time, I wondered if he took Ethan’s death harder than I did.
His presence was the ultimate blessing for a broken heart. Walter was Ethan’s best friend for a reason, and we found ourselves interested in similar things. Cars were at the top of that shared list of loves.
He sold the broken down parts of his Eclipse for a good chunk of cash after we left Florida, and bought a black Nissan Altima – not too flashy to keep a low profile, but just sporty enough to cure his fix for sexy cars.
Usually, Walter was the type to have more color in his automobiles. But Ethan was always the “black-on-black” type when it came to cars, so Walter and I figured that we would get the Altima in Ethan’s liking in honor of him.
The two of us sailed down the long country plains that Kansas had to offer, testing the limits of the six cylinder engine. At my request, we always kept the windows down so that the crisp rural air would blow my hair back, like the humid Florida air used to in Ethan’s convertible.
We bought a small two bedroom farmhouse with enough land to seclude us from the rest of the world. The nearest neighbor was a quarter of a mile away. It was a perfect getaway for a paranoid pair like us who had grown accustomed to looking over our shoulder for Lau or his men.
There was a small grocery store seven miles away where we could get most of our necessities, which basically consisted of whatever we did not grow in our garden.
The garden was undoubtedly my favorite part about Kansas. It started off as just a small patch of dirt where our tomato supply came from, mostly just to keep my mind busy during the day. But I found a love with the earth, and a tomato singular plot soon turned to provide us with; okra, squash, peas, potatoes, and green beans. There is not much more fulfilling than cooking a fresh old country meal from ingredients that your hands, labor and sweat produced. It was my sanctuary.
“I am going to town to pick up some chicken breasts for tonight.” Walter yelled from the driveway as I pecked at the freshly sprouted weeds in the garden.
The sun hung high overhead on another cloudless day. A light blue sea filled the sky, as the sun’s rays glistened off of the sweat layer that had built up on my arms. I sat down on the ground to take a break, and rested my arms across my bent knees. My head turned from left to right, taking a panoramic view of the flat field that seemed to stretch on for miles. When my eyes reached a 2 o’clock position in front of me, I saw a dark figure probably 40 yards to the front of me in the field.
My eyes squinted, trying diligently to make out some details of whatever this was. I stood up and brushed a dirt build up off of my knees, and walked forward to investigate the matter further.
As my steps brought me closer to shape, the life form began to bring to life all too memorable features. The man sat with his back upright, legs pointed straight out in front of him. His head bowed loosely in front of his chest, almost as if he was staring intently at something on his lap. The sun reflected off of the smooth, bald skin that coated his head. ‘
Closer I stepped. Creeping up to make out the final details.
His arms were bent and sank into his lap, lifeless. A small black box rested upon the palms of his hands, with a single red button. Ethan looked up at me with the same wiry grin, his cold dark eyes penetrated my soul. His thumb heaved forward with all of its might and pressed the button.
“Leslie. Leslie, wake up.” Walter gently shook my body to life.
I slowly raised up, eyes barely able to open all the way from the bright sun that hung overhead.
“Too in love with your garden to take your naps inside now?” He chuckled.
“Yeah. The heat must have tired me out for a moment there.” I said, blinking the slumber haze from my brain.
“Well let’s go cook this food! I know you must be starving from sweating it out in the garden all day.”
I turned to look over my shoulder when we got to the steps of the back porch. I peered over the vast landscape of the field. It was vacant, as always.
After dinner, Walter and I cleaned up the kitchen together. I always insisted that I do all the cleaning, since he did most of the cooking. But he was a gentleman through and through. He never let me get off without a helping hand from himself.
My hand clutched the steel wool pad, scrubbing furiously at the grease stained pan that the chicken had come to temperature in. I vigorously moved from side to side, my body vibrating with the force that I was exerting to get the last caked on, stubborn piece of breading that would not come clean, when my hand slipped and the steel wool went flying behind me. Slightly embarrassed, I walked over and bent down to pick it up, just as Walter was doing the same thing.
Our eyes looked up and locked onto the other as our faces came to mere inches apart.
“Don’t worry. I will get that for you.” Walter said, face turning bright red from the close proximity of our heads.
In that moment, I felt a wave of loneliness crash over my body. The feeling that I had been denying for two months now. The two of us were all alone in the middle of nowhere. My body spoke to me after weeks of suppressing itself. Hiding under the blanket of mourning, sulking in the closet of depression. Not any longer.
I grabbed the back of his sun tanned neck and pulled his lips against mine. The steel wool pad fell to the floor for the second time tonight, and our bodies followed shortly after. My knees pressed into the hard tile of the kitchen floor as I straddled Walter’s midsection, bringing forth a brief moment of pain that I shrugged off immediately.
He ripped my shirt off of my body and ran his hands down the back of my pajama pants. I felt his warm, smooth hand caress the soft skin of my bottom.
“Ah.” I gasped for air. Every nerve ending of my body screamed at finally being able to release themselves.
Walter picked me up and carried me into my bedroom. I sucked on his neck, leaving small red marks of lust wherever my lips went.
Our naked bodies rubbed against the others as we rolled around in between the sheets. His fingers felt deep in between my legs, and my hands caressed his stiff staff, stroking up and down until he grew to his maximum length.
Walter positioned himself on top of me, and began to kiss his way down the terrain of my chest. Starting first at the two peaks of my breasts, slowly working his way down to explore the rest of the territory. When I felt his tongue on my belly button, I grabbed two handfuls of his hair and yanked him back up to eye level.
“I can’t wait. Get inside of me now. Please.” I begged.
He did not disappoint. My hips rose up as my back arched when I first felt him enter my body. His long, sleek body pressed against mine and his hips pushed into me over and over. It had been far too long since I had felt a man’s touch. I came within seconds of feeling his warmth in me.
“Keep going.” I whispered, pulling him back down to me.
He pushed my legs out wide, holding a calf in each hand, balancing himself on his knees. My hands caressed my body, gently rubbing on my nipples while my eyes closed and my lips remained open to
make the heavy breaths easier to exhale.
We flipped around and I rode up and down on him. His arms wrapped around my upper body and pulled me to him so that the only thing I could move was my hips. Bounce, bounce, bounce; my hips rocked. Over and over.
The muscles of my body began to sporadically contract again, and I felt another wave coming. I kept riding as long as I could, pressing on so that he could reach his pinnacle as well. Finally, the buildup grew too much for me to contain.
I let out a loud moan and clawed at his skin, rolling my hips forward four more times. Then I felt his hips do the same. He took in a big gust of air and gripped me even tighter, and pulled out of me abruptly. I felt his warm liquid shoot up my spine.
I slept in Walter’s arms that night. We lay cuddled up against each other all night long, my head resting on his firm chest.
I woke up suddenly at around 2 a.m., and I saw the silhouette of a sitting figure at the corner of the room. Legs outstretched in front of him; back against the wall; a small black box resting on his hands. I closed my eyes and pushed my head deeper in the nook of Walter’s shoulder before the thumb made contact with the red button.
To Be Continued…
Midnight Pursuit: Changing Gears
Chapter One
I slept in Walter’s arms that night. We lay cuddled up against each other all night long, my head resting on his firm chest.
I woke up suddenly at around 2 a.m., and I saw the silhouette of a sitting figure at the corner of the room. Legs outstretched in front of him; back against the wall; a small black box resting on his hands. I closed my eyes and pushed my head deeper in the nook of Walter’s shoulder before the thumb made contact with the red button.
“Listen, if you feel uncomfortable about what happened last night, I understand.” Walter said, at a very quiet breakfast the following morning.
“I would be lying if I said that I did not feel at least a little awkward about it.” I replied without looking up from my food.