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On the Run…

February 25, 2012

This is the latest installment of The Cold Bite of Autumn, my serial fiction story. To get caught up, look to the right and find The Cold Bite of Autumn in my “Category” cloud, click on it, and read all the previous posts. Once you get caught up, jump on in! This story will be updated every Saturday morning at 9:00am EST.

She glanced over the puff of blankets that separated them. Daniel snored softly, oblivious to her gaze. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Sex complicates everything. She mulled over the passions of the night. He liked to put the woman first in lovemaking. This did not surprise her, but his intensity did. She welcomed the brief moment where she realized she could still feel something for a man. Too bad the moment had to be so fleeting.

She slipped her feet to the arctic floor and danced a manic tiptoe Viennese Waltz to her clothes and hiking boots. Dressed in minutes, she slipped on her down jacket, pulled a loaded backpack from under the kitchen counter, then carried the boots and herself out the front door with its newly oiled hinges.

Once on the porch, the boots on and laced in moments, she stood and looked back at the cabin. The brief, wistful look served as goodbye. Damn, I hate feeling. She pulled out breakfast from her backpack before slipping it to her back. A couple biscuits and some beef jerky followed by twenty ounces of water. She ate while she jogged the familiar path she spent weeks mapping out in her mind. Yesterday she took some provisions two hours from the cabin.

Daniel never attempted to keep her prisoner. She knew she could stay with him without any danger to herself. The issue came in the danger to him. She also decided she should nail the bastards she knew to be traitors. No sense in allowing them to continue operating free of obstruction.

Suicide missions fed some basic need within her. Is it death? Am I that curious about dying that I have to invite its possibility into my life? Trees and rocks drifted by as the pace of her jog downhill picked up. Nothing like healthy muscles and fresh air. For the second time in weeks the notion she could get used to living up here crept into her mind.

They’ll be showing up on his doorstep any day. Hopefully he will have the good sense to leave. He would be executed immediately upon being discovered in her company. She could not abide any more blood on her hands – at least, innocent blood…

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Michael Ray King

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