White Heat (6 page)

He touched his face gingerly; the growth of beard was getting thick and scratchy. He wondered if it bothered her, and decided to surprise her by shaving it off before she woke up. He would also cook breakfast and serve it to her in bed. A warm glow suffused his body, heated his naked skin despite the chill air in the cabin. Then, very carefully, he disentangled his limbs from hers and crept out of bed, drawing the blanket up to her neck.

His muscles felt stiff from lovemaking and from the frigid chill of morning. He threw a few more sticks of wood onto the fire, which flared up abruptly like a warning. A sudden surge of hot air hit him in the face, and he felt vibrantly alive. The supply of wood that he had labored to stockpile was running low; most of it had been used up during the storm. After pulling on an insulated flannel shirt, thermal pants and woolen socks, then stepping into his boots and pulling on his parka and gloves, he kissed Carol on her forehead and quietly exited the cabin.

He drew a deep breath, and his lungs protested at the shock as freezing air entered them. Glancing at the sky, he saw the pale crescent moon just beginning to fade and the rise of the approaching dawn, which to him looked exactly like the crimson blush that shone on Carol’s face after they had blistering sex.

An instant later, he sensed that something was wrong. As he began to turn around, something hit him on the side of the head. He crumpled to his knees in blackness.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Dugan spent a restless night, waking up anxiously every few hours to check on the cabin, to make sure that Carol hadn’t decided, in a moment of insane paranoia, to leave in the middle of the night to escape his clutches. When he finally got up and shook off the layers of sleep that fogged his brain, the sky was still dark as pitch; but he knew that sunrise was not far off. At this point, he did not want to take any more chances.

With the efficiency of long practice, he rolled up the sleeping bag, repacked his backpack, and then headed down the slope toward the cabin. Carefully he circled it, approached it from the rear, where there weren’t any windows, just in case Carol or that man of hers happened to peek out just as he was approaching. His movements were virtually silent, cat-like.

He smelled the acrid smoke of the cabin’s fireplace. It was hellishly early; he suspected that whoever owned the cabin was an early riser, just like himself. He guessed that the man would leave the cabin momentarily, either to gather wood or to do some other chore. And, that would be his chance to take him out. He waited, hiding in the shadows not far from the entrance.

The door opened and closed. The man who came out was husky, although six inches shorter than Dugan himself. And, by the width of his shoulders, it was clear that he was well muscled.

Dugan felt rage shoot through his body and stiffen his penis like a knife. Briefly, the man glanced up, craning his neck to stare at the sky, Instantly, Dugan bunched one large fist and slammed it against the side of the man’s head. The blow staggered him, and then he fell to his knees, momentarily unconscious.

Dugan grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him around. For a moment, he stared at the man’s face. It was too good to be true. He knew there was a bounty on this guy. Dugan began laughing wildly. He pulled him by the hair and stared in the face.
What a stroke of luck.

But the poster said they wanted him alive. Well…so he wouldn’t kill the fuck. Just turn him in and collect the bounty.

He took a rope from his backpack, and began tying him up.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Carol woke up suddenly, startled by the fire crackling or perhaps by her woman’s intuition. She felt cold air enter the cabin as Josh opened and closed the door to exit. Shortly, she heard a noise that alarmed her, followed by loud laughter. Without thinking, she pushed herself out of bed and ran to the entrance of the cabin. She was stark naked as she burst through the door.

Dugan stopped tying the rope and turned around, quick as a snake. He was confronted with the stunning sight of a totally naked Carol, skin already turning pink from the cold. His brain numbed at the confirmation of his suspicions, and his mouth gaped open.

Just then, the man he’d been tying rose up and tackled him, knocking him to the ground. They wrestled briefly, but Dugan had his hands free, and began pounding with punishing fists.

Abruptly, Carol, still totally naked, grabbed a large chunk of ice as heavy as a brick with her bare hands. Hoisting it over her, she slammed it down on Dugan’s head. Her chest heaved, and her breasts gleamed.

* * *

After Josh buried Dugan’s frozen body, he returned to the cabin. Carol was already fully dressed. Her face was ashen, pinched; her eyes were blank and lusterless. Josh had bandaged her hands, which were nearly frostbitten from picking up the frigid ice.

“What do we do now?” Her voice was husky.

Josh shook his head, ran his fingers slowly through her hair, thrilling at its silky softness. Then, he kissed her tenderly on both cheeks and deeply on the mouth. She sighed, and pressed her body against his. He felt an ache in his groin, but ignored it.

“Nobody will ever find his body out here, even if they search for it. And who would care about your missing ex anyway, except you?”

Carol nodded in agreement.

“You’ve dealt with things like this before, haven’t you, Josh?”

Josh shrugged. “It’s a long story. But, I hope it has a happy ending.”

Carol kissed him tenderly. She stared at the desolation, at the snow and ice that covered Dugan’s body. “Let’s leave this place; let’s go somewhere far away, some place warm and fresh and green.”

Josh nodded. He supposed he could give civilization one more chance. Might even make sense to travel with a woman, even go back on the grid. Those hunting him expected him to be alone; they probably wouldn’t even bother to investigate reports of a couple traveling together. Yes, this might even work to his advantage. Carol was a lucky stroke for him in more ways than one.

He packed up a few things and made sure nothing left in the cabin could be traced back to him. Then he took Carol’s hand, led her out to the Jeep that was parked in the back of the cabin. “I love you, Carol.”

“I know,” she said.

The sun shone bright and cold in the pale morning sky as the Jeep headed south.

END

About the Author

Serge de Moliere lives and writes in New York City where the people are as diverse as the weather.

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