by Darrell Bain
* * * *
For a long time there was only the noise of the tires humming on the asphalt as we both began trying to untangle the puzzle. It was finally Mona who spoke first.
"I think they traced you first and then found us through me."
"How the devil did they do that?” I couldn't see it.
"Just think a moment. The government has enormous resources when they want to use them. I suspect they figured you would head to Dallas where you had lived before for so long, and they had to know you would probably try to get some new identification papers. There's enough people on the street who knew everyone dealing in bogus ID's, including me. Once they got the names, they simply followed up on all the ones they could grab. Fortunately, we were already gone by then, but remember all the computer power they have access to when they're trying to find a certain person. They would have tracked down my name and found someone who knew the general area where I stayed. Then when they pinpointed it, they got my prints."
"And after they knew who you really were, they probably turned up the fact that the people in New York were still looking for you over the money you took,” I said.
"Uh huh. They would have put pressure on them, and from there they started searching files, trying to find the one dealer in ID who was missing from the street. All they really had to do then is find someone who had either deposited a large amount of cash, was spending more cash than they made or paid cash for something big, like a house. Then find out if that person resembled me. Rats. I guess I wasn't as smart as I thought I was."
"It makes sense, but don't knock what you did. If I hadn't come along, you would probably never have been found."
"And I would probably have died of Lupus soon, too. I had a really bad case of it. Damn it, why do they make cars where you have to sit so far apart? I feel like being cuddled. And Mike-whatever happens, I wouldn't trade what we've had in this short time for anything in the world."
"Me either,” I agreed. I pulled over to the side of the highway. We loosened our seat belts and simply held each other for a long while.
"Holding you is better than sex with any other woman,” I whispered into her ear. And I meant it. Being close to her like that made me feel as if our very minds were interlocked. A gestalt of our bodies pressing together formed and hovered in my mind like one of those dreams you have where your sense of happiness and everything being right with the world is so strong that it's like a physical loss when you wake up. I thought Mona was envisioning exactly the same thing, but—no, we couldn't be reading minds. Besides I didn't feel any thoughts from her, just a sense of goodness and contentment like I had. But even so-no, I thought. Save that until later, when we have time to explore it. And wouldn't that be great!
"You didn't put on your new bra,” I said when we finally separated.
"You're the one who said I didn't need it."
"So I did. And you don't.” I winked at her and we got on our way again.
Farther along the way, Mona brought up a subject I had been mulling over in my mind and found no answers for.
"Mike, have you come to any conclusions about how this all got started?"
I was driving but I took my eyes off the road for a moment to glance at her. “I keep thinking about what that agent said. ‘Others', as he put it. Whoever they are, I think that must be where it began. But how and why? I haven't got a clue. Not that I can see where it matters to us. I just want them to leave us alone."
Late that evening we crossed the Red River and entered Oklahoma and passed on through Durant, heading east. Remembering what the dead agent had said with his last words, I hoped I wasn't leading us from something bad to something worse. On the other hand, I didn't see how our situation could get much more dangerous than it already was. We were murderous felons on the run, carrying a disease that killed everyone the government had tested it on except those possibly mythical “others", and if we were caught we would probably be shot on sight. Or worse. Nevertheless, we couldn't help but look over at each other occasionally and grin with happiness at just being together and being alive. To hell with the government. With Mona looking at me like I was some kind of Adonis, and with my body and mind functioning better than they had in a dozen years, I felt like I could take on a regiment of Marines and beat them off with a popgun if I had to.
* * * *
Later that day I steered us around Broken Bow lake and then onto secondary roads, and I do mean secondary. I thought I remembered the way but I got us lost as a goose and we had to retrace a large part of the previous route to get me back on track. Getting lost resulted in us having to spend the night at a roadside park, one of us sleeping while the other stayed awake, though frankly, we may as well have both got some rest. If we were found out here on this stretch of highway, the best we could do was run for the woods, and even then we would be tracked down by helicopters equipped with infrared and agents with night vision headgear. The only reason we didn't both sleep at once is that we discussed the matter first, and we both agreed that we would not go quietly if they caught up with us. If we were to die, we wanted to take an honor guard along. A big one.
The park where we slept had no facilities. We had to use the bushes. A hell of a lot of people had done the same in the past and you had to watch your step very carefully. As soon as we finished those necessary chores we go on our way again. Mona insisted she was perfectly able to drive now. I took her word for it, merely asking her to pull over at the first place that sold gas and coffee. That turned out to be only a half dozen miles farther on, at a little Mom and Pop store that looked like it had been there for a century. I filled the gas tank and we left with much happier and alert man than when we stopped. I'm a coffee addict.
While Mona drove I did something I should have taken care of long before. No excuse, I just wasn't used to being a fugitive who might have to fight at a moment's notice. I took Mona's box of cartridges from the glove compartment and filled the clips of both of our guns back to capacity, ten rounds for the little Glocks. After that, I took a quick look at the weapon I had confiscated from the agent's ankle holster. It was a .25 automatic that held only five rounds in the clip and one in the chamber.
"Do you have someplace you could carry this? Or do you want to?” I asked, holding up the little automatic for Mona to see.
"Sure, I've got a perfect place, except you don't like me wearing a bra."
I laughed. “Smarty."
Mona glanced at me for a moment, giving me as much of that wonderful sweet smile of hers as watching the road would allow, a smile I was coming to love. It turned her from a merely very pretty woman into an exceptionally beautiful one. She was wearing a hint of some makeup she had bought at Wal-Mart, lipstick and a bit of eye shadow I thought, but it was minimal and as far as I was concerned, she didn't really need it. She looked like a young woman in her twenties rather than the mid thirties. I had examined my face in the mirror this morning as well. I was looking younger too. It had to be the bug. Either it or love. Whatever, I didn't want it to go away.
Before long we came to the old gravel road I should have taken the day before, the one that led to the part of Oklahoma adjoining Arkansas, in the eastern fringes of the Ouashata State forest, a wild area rising to good sized mountains the farther north and east you go. I knew part of the area, having relatives in Mena, a little city-town, really-that was near the Oklahoma border about halfway up the state, but it was more of a general rather than a specific knowledge.
I turned the wheel over to Mona then so that I could watch for landmarks. I got us lost one more time but caught it early for a change, and then I thought I knew how to go the rest of the way. “It's still a bit farther and the road only gets rougher,” I said. “Tell me when you're ready for a break."
She laughed. “We're on a road? I'm glad you told me. I've never been in this part of the country before. I didn't realize there was so much wild country in Oklahoma."
"We may be in Arkansas by now for all I know. Th
e boundary has never been marked very accurately because it is still wild. Lots of forest, small mountains, deep ravines, and lots of rocks. The slate and flint outcroppings used to fascinate me when I was a kid and we visited up in Arkansas."
"I imagine. What's the cabin like?"
"It's not really a cabin. More of a cave and the living facilities are built into the side of a mountain. They'd call it a hill out west of course, but it's a mountain to me. We can drive all the way up and even hide the car. There's room."
"What if the colonel has his car there?"
"There's room for two. And his name is James-Jim. He doesn't use rank any more. Anyhow, wait til you see the cabin. It was built by an old recluse who wanted a place to get away from the law and Jim's in-laws expanded it. It's fixed up to where it's hidden real good. I'll show you how it's done when we get there. I just hope I can remember the rest of the way better than I have so far."
I did, but we had to stop one more night by going back and parking off of an old state road that had deteriorated since I had been up that way last. I knew better than to try finding the cabin after the sun set. It was going to be hard enough in daylight.
By the time we got going the next morning, we were both itching to get out of the car and to someplace where we could get cleaned up. And I wanted to wash those stiff new jeans I was wearing about five times in a row. “Wash the new out of them", as Mom used to say when I was a kid. We could do it there, though I hadn't told Mona how running water could be managed in a cabin in the middle of nowhere. I wanted to show it to her.
* * * *
By mid-morning we were jolting along an old overgrown logging trail that switchbacked up the side of the mountain, making me wish we were in a jeep. We were going to be lucky if we didn't wind up with a broken axle. Maybe the old road was used during deer season but even then probably not very much. Twice I had to just drive over large saplings and hope I didn't hang up. Things had changed so much that I missed my turn on the first pass and had to go on for a mile and a half until I found a safe place to turn around. On the way back I drove very slowly until I spotted my landmark, a massive old pine that Jim and I had named the “Cactus Tree” because some accident in the past had caused it to spread abruptly into four separate trunks about twenty feet up from the ground, making it resemble a giant Segura Cactus. Nearby saplings had grown up so high that they had hidden the forks from my gaze. Good enough; the last stretch would be hidden from other eyes as well.
We hadn't run into any traffic for several hours and I didn't expect any, not this time of year, and not on this path that might have once been a logging road but wasn't much more than a passage between big trees now. We wouldn't see anyone unless we got unlucky and crossed paths with some naturist out exploring, or a geologist or such doing research for a thesis.
The turn for the last stretch was well hidden, disguised by thickets of huckleberry and other undergrowth. It was just barely possible to tell that someone had preceded us not long ago. I hoped it was just Jim. If it wasn't, we were in trouble. I patted the pocket of my jean jacket automatically. The feel of the forty riding there reassured me somewhat, but I doubted it would do to fend off Homeland Security agents again. They must realize by now that we weren't pacifists, not by a long shot.
I told Mona to stop about a quarter of the way to the cabin.
"Someone's been here before us,” she said.
"Yes. I'm pretty sure it was only Jim, but I need to go back and bend the saplings and brambles back upright. If the bad guys are waiting, they've already heard us, but watch real careful anyway."
"But Mike-if someone does come toward me, how will I know whether it's Jim or not? I've never seen him."
"I would get hooked up with a woman smarter than me. Okay, you go back and repair our trail as best you can and I'll watch. Don't be long or I'll worry and come back for you."
Mona didn't take long. I had already begun to notice that she did things by the numbers, as fast and efficient as whatever the task called for. I would never have to worry about her competence even if I did feel protective about her.
CHAPTER TWELVE
James Shell was outside, standing almost as straight and tall as he ever did as an army officer, albeit a bit thinner. He waited on us while I very carefully maneuvered the car the last fifty yards. There wasn't much room for error, and a mishap could send us plunging over a precipice and into a deep ravine below. I could feel Mona biting her lip while I chewed on my own. I'm not the greatest driver in the world, which is probably why I've never had more of an accident than a fender bender; knowing my limitations, I'm very careful.
Jim waved us around the last turn and in under the overhanging cliff where there was just room for two vehicles to park side by side. I stopped by a band new jeep, presumably belonging to him. As soon as I shut the car door, I was engulfed in a hug that would have cracked my ribs if he were at his full strength. I hugged him back, suddenly aware of the wetness in my eyes. He looked almost like his old self, with his gray, close-cropped military style haircut. He had the high cheekbones many Native Americans do and a strong nose set above a wide mouth that always grinned infectiously around those he was friendly with. He was tall too, three inches more my five eleven and had never carried any excess weight.
I stepped back and took Mona's hand as she came around from the passenger's side of the car. “Jim, this is Mona Terrell. We're together now, and not just because she's infected with that bug too. She's the woman I'm going to spend the rest of my life with."
Jim didn't play favorites. He hugged Mona as tightly as he had me, then stepped back and looked directly at her, letting his gaze travel over her face and body, not in the manner of the leering scrutiny women like her are subject to, but more in the nature of wanting to know her and how she was fitting into my life.
"Anyone Michael approves of suits me Mona. That bug you two are carrying around almost certainly saved my life-although I don't like to remember part of the time until it took hold. At times I was afraid you might get up here and find my body."
Mona gave him one of those warm smiles that would melt icebergs. “Mike saved my life when I got the bug, in case he didn't think to tell you. I was in the advanced stages of a very bad case of Lupus. And again when—"
I interrupted her before she began embarrassing me. “We can all tell war stories later, sweetheart. Right now, I'd like to finish covering our back trail and then get cleaned up. I feel like what that corpse I stuffed in the storm drain must look like by now."
"Corpse?"
"Tell you later Jim. Let me fix the road."
"You two go ahead. I'll take care of it."
This from a man who had been dying from cancer just a few days ago? “Are you sure you're up to it?” I asked. “I can wait a half hour to get clean. Mona has gotten used to the way I smell by now."
"I haven't though. Go ahead, I'm fine and getting better by the hour."
He wouldn't say that if he didn't mean it. I grabbed our shopping bags and guided Mona around the rock wall dividing the car storage from the cabin and paused to let her see Jim pulling on the rope that let the camouflage tarp down over the entrance.
Even the cabin-I still say cabin, but it was more a cave than anything man made-had a camouflage tarp that I shoved aside and held to let Mona go in ahead of me. The narrow entrance was shored up with huge old cedar posts that blended in with the rock almost perfectly. It was behind an outcropping of flint that hid it from all but the closest scrutiny. Inside, under the cliff, what had started as an ancient cave had been turned into very comfortable living quarters over a century or more, with furniture and bracing and shelving all made from cedar or oak carried laboriously up the slope in bygone days. Even today, a car or pickup could carry only so much of a load up the steep slope to the entrance safely.
Jim had added a few amenities since I was last here, extending the living area farther back into the mountain by chipping at the floor to make it level and bringing in l
umber for more rooms and furniture. The beds were mostly sleeping bags and air mattresses except for the two oldest rooms. I hurried Mona past all that. She could examine the place in detail later. What I really wanted to show her was the little stream, bubbling out from a hole up about head level and channeled downward along a canal cut from the rock by someone long dead by now. It ran through the room and into an unused part of the cave and disappeared back into a crevice worn smooth by water flowing into it over untold ages.
"How wonderful!” Mona remarked when I had shown her how it worked. There was a spot in the canal (a trough, really) where the water could be diverted into a big iron tub, probably older than even Jim was. It was set on a sturdy oak stand. A propane heater was rigged so the flames could play up along its side and heat the water. Jim, always thoughtful, had turned it on when he heard us coming. We had a tub of warm water to wash in and could stand up and let the water coming from above give us a cold shower when we were finished. The tub had a plug that drained the used bath water into another trough chipped into the rock floor that led back to where the stream continued on its way, back into the depths of the mountain. Jim had told me that the flow never varied, winter or summer. The water temperature as it emerged never varied either and the stream was far enough back in the cave so that it almost never froze during its short run.
One other thing I should mention. There was some plank shelving there with soap and bathing supplies and clean towels, and even a curtain attached to aluminum poles that could be used for privacy if one wanted it. We didn't bother.
As soon as Mona got the idea, she began stripping and I wasn't far behind. There wasn't room for both of us to sit in the old tub, but standing close together while we scrubbed suited both of us. While I was doing her back, I got a chance to see how that exit wound I had treated was doing.
I could barely tell that a bullet had ever plowed its way out of her body, ripping skin and muscle like tissue paper. It was very nearly healed and even where skin had been lost by the explosive force of the bullet, the area was clean and the scar tissue looked not much different than the rest of her skin.