The Long Drive into the Wilderness

Dale placed his hands on her narrow hips. "It's where I want to be."

"Good."

Maggie rocked back and forth, massaging him with her pussy. Dale let her set the pace. He concentrated on the delicious sensations of her wetness sliding up and down his shaft. She rested her hands on his chest, closed her eyes and rocked her hips back and forth. He stared at her--mostly a silhouette in the darkness--and decided that she was either an angel or a demon and either way, he was happy right where he was.

A few minutes later, Maggie gasped and hummed as an orgasm rolled through her. She had another small one before Dale felt the inevitable swell. With a groan, he filled her again.

Maggie slid off him and cuddled into his side, with her head on his chest and one arm thrown across his torso. Dale curled one arm around her and within moments, she was asleep. Her light snores rumbled through the room.

Dale stared at the ceiling. A myriad of thoughts vied for attention but the one that kept coming back was: I hope we didn't fuck this up.

#

Dale woke early the next morning, leery that perhaps Maggie might have come to her senses or worse, decided he'd taken advantage of her. She was already out of bed and he wondered what kind of reception he was going to get when he they laid eyes on each other.

Maggie took the decision out of his hands. The moment he sat up, she came bounding back into the bedroom, clad only in a long tee shirt. She pulled it off over her head, revealing her lithe body and leaped atop him, her mouth seeking his. Their kissing match turned fierce, resulting in a miniature wrestling match--which ended when he rolled on top of her, pried her legs apart and fucked her yet again. She urged him on, nipping his ear and thrusting her hips back into him. It was quick and frantic and Dale loved it all the same.

Afterward, she sprang out of bed and dragged him to his feet. "Come on, I have to show you something."

"Something" turned out to be a nearly prepared breakfast. He watched her move naked to the counter and heft a bowl of scrambled eggs, ready to pour in a heated skillet. Dale stepped forward to help.

"No." She pointed to a chair. "Sit."

Maggie plucked a plate from the microwave, containing two pancakes and several strips of bacon. As soon as the eggs finished, she added those and set the plate in front of him.

Dale had to tear his eyes away from her body. "I appreciate it, but why?"

She smiled. "I doubt I'll be up to this every day but at least this once, I wanted to show my man I love him." She grabbed two cups of coffee and sat sideways in his lap. "Eat."

They ended up showering together, soaping each other's bodies. Dale washed her hair and massaged her scalp with his fingertips. Maggie all but collapsed in a pile of mewling goo and Dale filed that information away for the future. She gave him a fervent kiss before she left for work, saying it was to remember her by.

Like I'd forget.

Dale meandered through his work day, though his thoughts stayed on Maggie the whole time. He wasn't sure what to expect when he returned to the apartment. As usual, Maggie had beaten him there. She wore a pocketed yellow tee shirt and tight jean shorts, and had braided her hair. On seeing Dale come through the door, she didn't give him her routine, friendly greeting; instead, she squealed, ran at him, and leaped into his arms. Dale was so surprised he caught her. Maggie's legs locked around his waist and she rained kisses on his face. When she came up for air, she said, "Hey, you!"

He laughed. "Have you been waiting to do that for a while?"

"Too long."

They had a pleasant evening and retired early, making love twice before they fell asleep. As Dale drifted off, he thought, I could get used to this.

Given what had happened in his recent history, Dale kept waiting for the other shoe to fall. He wondered if the universe was taunting him, offering happiness and contentment, like some kid taunting a cat with a ball of string, only to yank it out of Dale's reach the moment he felt safe. But as the days peeled off the calendar and nothing happened, his contentment grew. Unleashed from having to suppress her love, Maggie showered him with affection every day. She continued thanking him every day for bringing her with him until he finally told her stop.

"It's me that owes you. When I fled Virginia, I was pretty hopeless and you've given me reason to hope. You tell me I saved your life? Well, you might have saved mine. Maybe from here on, we can keep saving each other, like you said."

She smiled and hugged him. "That's all I want."

Several more months passed without incident. He and Maggie grew closer and Dale began to really believe his life had turned a corner. While he thought of the past with regret and sadness, the ennui and hopelessness no longer dominated his thoughts. Instead, he left work every day with a smile on his face, convinced the fiery slip of a woman waiting for him at their apartment would greet him with a smile and a kiss--that they'd share a happy meal together and as often as not, end up naked in bed before the sun set.

One night, after a particularly heated session, when they were snuggling together in the afterglow. he asked Maggie if she was happy. She nestled further into him and said, "All things considered, I cannot imagine myself happier."

"Me either."

She raised her head and rested her chin on his chest. "We deserve this, you know."

"How do you figure?"

"We paid our dues. We've done our time. We put in the work, we understood the assignment." She shrugged. "Whatever cliché you want to apply."

He chuckled and wrapped one arm around her back. "If you say so."

"Don't argue with me. Just do what I say and be happy. We're gonna live a long life and be happy the whole time. You get me?"

Dale smiled and kissed her. "You got it boss."

Another month passed and Dale was convinced Maggie had been right. The mundane nature of their jobs didn't matter. The semi-squalor of their apartment didn't affect him. They had each other and that was enough. They were happy, and safe.

For a little while.

#

It was such a minor thing. Such a minor, random detail on which one's fate might hinge. Dale realized later that if the timing had been a few seconds off in either direction, both he and Maggie would have been dead.

He'd just left work, his sweat-and-dirt encrusted shirt clinging to his torso. As both forklifts had broken down, he and his coworkers had been forced to unload two full trucks of bagged concrete that day. The manager of the building supply had cursed and carried on, before finally directing them to do it by hand. It had taken the bulk of the afternoon and Dale was filthy and tired.

His spirits, however, were high. As always, he looked forward to entering his apartment and being greeted with a loving smile and deep kiss. She'd tell him to run through the shower while she finished dinner and they would end up on the couch, with her wrapping her small body around his. She'd fall asleep against him, he'd carry her to bed, where they would either cuddle or have sex, then fall asleep together. That same scenario played out two or three nights a week and he looked forward to it each time. His worries that Maggie would have second thoughts or grow tired of him proved unfounded. If anything, she seemed love him more than ever,

Neither of them wholly forgot their circumstances. Dale asked now and again if she had seen or heard anything and he was pleased that she gave thoughtful answers, detailing how she had tried to keep her eyes open for any signs of danger. The thought brought a surge of pride and affection and he fought the urge to break into a trot.

Dale stumbled suddenly and glanced down. The laces from one work boot had come undone and he'd stepped on them with the other foot. Dale knelt on the cracked and pitted sidewalk. Doing so placed him behind the body of an old Cadillac. He had sensed the car coming on the periphery of his senses but had ignored it. It approached, heading in the opposite direction he'd been walking. He was about to stand when he heard a harsh voice speaking Russian through an open window, just as the car rolled past.

He froze.

The vehicle cruised by his hiding spot.

He stood and allowed himself a slight glance over his shoulder. The car--a late-model SUV--meandered to the end of the block and turned right, toward his job at the supply yard. The occupants were too far away to be identified ... but the way the man in the passenger seat rode with his arm riding the lowered window was something he had seen many times.

Yuri.

Dale ran.

He slowed as he approached the complex. He pored over the parking lot and nearby buildings but couldn't see anyone staking out the place. Dale took a deep breath and trotted for their unit, half-expecting a bullet to tear out his life.

He opened the door. "Maggie?"

She emerged from the kitchen nook, wearing a broad smile. She'd dyed her hair a flaming red for a few months, and parted it on the side, so that the waves fell over the right side of her face. "Hey, baby, I--" She caught the look on his face and her smile vanished, replaced by concern. "Dale? What is it?"

"They're here. We have to go."

To Maggie's credit, she didn't freeze or ask a lot of questions. She ran into the bedroom. Dale followed, catching up as she hauled their running bags from the closet. Fear laced her voice, though not panic. "How long do we have?"

"Five minutes."

"More than enough time."

Dale dug through his dresser and added several thousand dollars he'd saved and added it to that in the bag. He was surprised when Maggie pulled out her own wad and tossed it to him. He caught it. "Where did you get this?"

"You're not the only one that can save."

Dale grabbed a couple more shirts and pants, and a couple of trinkets he'd acquired with Maggie. Four minutes and forty-five seconds after arriving, he met her at the door. She looked scared but determined. She said, "Should we leave the lights on?"

"No, turn them off. They may waste time loitering outside to see if we come back. Leave your phone on the couch."

"Okay." She deposited her phone on the cushions, then glanced back, taking in the apartment one final time. "I'll miss this place."

At first, Dale was confused. The place was a dump and barely suitable for human life. But as a pang of loss ripped through him, so did understanding.

It's not the apartment she'll miss ... it's where our love was born. With that realization, he knew there was only one response he could give. He placed a hand on her arm, squeezed, and smiled at her. "Me too."

Maggie kissed his cheek. "Okay, let's go."

They hurried to the car. Dale kept his eyes peeled but saw nothing. He reached for the door and hesitated. As far as he knew, the Petrovs had never used a car bomb but there was always a first time. A quick scan of the undercarriage and the hood revealed nothing, so he decided to risk it.

Besides, that would deprive Yuri of his fun if we died too fast.

A moment later, the old vehicle sputtered to life and they drove away into the darkening Oklahoma evening. He steered them onto the on-ramp for I-40, traveled east until they hit I-35, then headed north. He and Maggie hadn't made any firm running plans but all those they'd discussed involved going that direction.

We'll figure it out as we go. Dale snorted to himself. Like we have a choice otherwise now.

Dale thought back to the car. He questioned whether he had allowed himself to get spooked, that he might have been running from shadows ...

He shook his head. He'd ridden in cars with Yuri enough to recognize the way the man rode with his elbow resting on a lowered window, his hand forward and gripping the front part of the car door frame. Even the man in the vehicle had been wearing a black jacket, as Yuri had worn every day of their association. Even if he had not had those visual clues, Dale was sure. For one, Russian voices in their area were almost non-existent. More than that, something about the Petrov family's presence seemed to arrive on invisible psychic waves, hammering into his fear like a wave pounding at an eroding shore.

Dale recalled how he'd knelt to tie his shoe, and his hands began to shake. Sheer luck had the Petrovs passing at just that moment, when he'd been shielded by the car. He supposed his longer hair and beard were the reason they hadn't been able to pick him out at a distance, though if they had been close enough to look each other in the eye, Yuri would have known him in an instant.

He glanced at Maggie. She stared out the window as night fell over the city. "Hey. You okay?"

"Yeah, just ..." She sighed. "I think I convinced myself that they had stopped looking for us. But they're not going to, are they?"

"Never." He hesitated. "Do you regret staying with me?"

She whipped her head toward him. "No. You?"

"Nope."

Maggie's small hand covered his. "I love you."

"Same, babe."

She squeezed his fingers, then withdrew and folded her hands in her lap. "So, what now?"

"We talked about a few possibilities. First, we'll have to ditch this car. We'll get one with our back-up documents."

"Don't you think that guy that made those is compromised? If Yuri's here, he'll find your forger." She crossed her arms and stared straight ahead. "I'm sure he kept records--for blackmail reasons, if nothing else."

"Normally, I'd agree with you but that guy was killed, remember? His house burned down and hopefully took all his records with him."

Maggie pursed her lips. "He might have kept digital records off-site."

Dale had considered the same thought. He shook his head. "We'll have to risk it."

"Okay, ditch the car. Then what?"

"Alter our appearances. I'm going to shave my beard." He grinned. "I hope you'll still want me with a naked face."

The ghost of a smile flitted over her face. "That's fine, though I was more thinking about where we were going."

Dale thought for a moment. They'd discussed Minnesota and Montana the most, since again, the criminal organizations in those states had little connection or interaction with the Russian mob types. In either case, they could disappear into the backwoods and hopefully stay off the radar for a long time.

When he voiced those thoughts to Maggie, her answer was unequivocal. "Montana."

He raised his eyebrows. "Why so certain?"

"Puts us further away from Iowa," she said in a quiet voice, "and like you, I don't want to be anywhere near my family or endanger them. I know that's not completely logical but I would feel better."

Dale nodded. "Montana it is."

The car sped north, its occupants each lost in their own thoughts.

#

The first sensation Dale noted as he stepped through the door was the cool wash of frosty air wash over the skin of his bare chest. Though brisk, it wasn't quite as cold as he'd expected. He thought that maybe the cold spell was breaking.

Or maybe I'm just getting used to it.

Steam wafted from the surface of his coffee. Dale took a sip and gaze over the mist-shrouded pine-covered valley. In the distance, he could just make out the dim bumps of Columbia Falls, sprawled along the shore of the Flathead River. He took a long deep breath and was yet again impressed with how clean and untainted the air was.

I thought I'd miss the city, he thought as he sipped his coffee, but from this porch, I sure can see the appeal of being out here. He released his breath in a contented sigh.

Small hands slipped around his torso and a soft voice purred in his ear. "You let the fire go out."

"I know. I was too comfortable to get up and add wood last night."

"Hmm. Well, then you should come back to bed. I need to be warmed up. That's your duty, remember?"

"Oh?" He tried to sound gruff. "What's in it for me?"

A pair of lips nipped at his ear. "I'll make it worth your while."

Dale smiled and turned.

She'd put on an oversized tee shirt and a pair of yoga pants but Maggie still shivered. As he faced her, she buried her face in his chest. "Oh, yes," she murmured. "Warmth."

"Do you want a coffee?"

"No, stupid, I want you. I thought I'd made that clear."

He laughed and walked inside the one-room cabin with her. On the left lay their small kitchen area, with a propane stove and fridge. On the right sat a desk with their chargers and laptop, and a file cabinet with paperwork for the campground. Their sleeping area and closet-sized bathroom occupied the rear half of the cabin. An ostentatious mounted six-point elk head, that Dale had been told was named Barney, covered one wall.

Dale gazed at the laptop. "I should probably check email."

"Already did. No customers scheduled for today. Frank asked if we had enough propane until next week. I replied and said we did."

They'd been at the campground for four months. With no direction and no real plan, they rolled into Montana and made it as far as Columbia Falls. There, at a convenience store, Maggie had run into Frank--quite literally, sending the old man sprawling. He hadn't been injured and as Dale helped him up, Frank had responded as old men with a certain easy-going charisma did, saying that if he was destined to get bowled over, it might as well have come at the hands of a pretty girl.

The three of them had started talking and before long, Dale figured Frank was something of a renaissance man when it came to business, as he seemed to be involved in several ventures. When Maggie stated they were looking for a place to stay, Frank took them to the Mountain View camp, which he owned. The camp lay slightly to the north of Columbia Falls and overlooked the valley. According to Frank it was quite a tourist spot during the summer but only rarely used in the off-season.

"I hate leaving it untended over the winter," he said, "or staying up there for the few winter customers we get. Thing is, the cold is getting harder on these old bones, and I don't like leaving my house or my other businesses in town."

Before long, they had worked out an agreement to watch the camp for him. Frank gave them the office cabin to use, a small stipend for groceries, and a small caretakers' salary. When Dale tried to say it was too much, Frank scoffed and waved off the protests. "If you being there stops one break-in or prevents one cabin roof from caving in, I'll make it all back."

He'd given them an old laptop with a simple business spreadsheet that Frank said was uploaded each night to his cloud account. "All automated, you don't have to do nothing to send it. Just keep the records and fill in each field. I'll email with any reservations or questions. No landline, and cell reception ain't too great up there, but the internet's on satellite, so you should be good."

From their perspective as fugitives, it had seemed too good to be true. Dale wasn't sure how well he'd adjust to being isolated and alone.

Maggie, on the other hand, had taken to it immediately. She took one look and said, "This will be perfect."

Despite Dale's reservations, the campground and job had been every bit idyllic as he'd hoped. He and Maggie did some maintenance, tended the guests and trailers they had over the winter, and kept watch on the property. Frank had already hinted that they were doing so well he was considering keeping them on for the summer.

Maggie plucked the coffee cup from his hand and placed it on the kitchen counter. Her other hand grabbed his belt buckle and pulled him toward the bed. A silly smile covered her face.

Dale smiled back. She'd let her hair return to its natural dirty blonde color, though she now wore it in a longer pixie cut that fell over one eye. No matter what she did with it, he always thought her hair looked good. I guess she learned something with all that time in front of a camera. He said, "Someone's feeling frisky."