A Jog in the Woods
Cheryl Autumn at the cabin
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. (my apologies. Some quirk of my late-night eyeballs scheduled this post a day late…so it is getting up about 12 hours late once I caught the error…)
The chilled air caught his lungs and sent an ice-wind sword down his throat. He paused and followed the vapor trail of his breath to the moon. Stars speckled through the trees. As picturesque as this night loomed, he knew she would stay out until he slipped under the covers in about a half hour.
They fell into a rhythm of small talk and grunts since she revealed information about the wreck. Her mistake of revealing such facts, while not entirely enlightening to him, caused her to guard her tongue as per her training. He didn’t blame her. In fact, she appeared to grow more attractive each day.
The fact she treated herself as ‘one of the boys’ when dressing didn’t help much either. Lately he went outside to collect firewood when she dressed. While he loved the curves, he knew he couldn’t handle the road…
“So, where are you off to this evening?”
Her voice startled him. “Just checking out the stars and going for a jog.” He shuffled his feet and worked hard not to look her in the face.
“A jog sounds nice.” She maneuvered in front of him to where he could no longer look away. “How about some company?”
“You ready to go?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
A hint of resignation tailed off in her voice. I better watch what I say or we’ll come to blows again.
He hit his normal trail at a good pace with her on his heels. Before long, she settled in beside him.
“What brought this on?”
“You know we can’t go on like this. Either we split up or you keep playing boy scout for me until I’m fully healed. I already told you things that could get you killed.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Yeah, you’re not too bad.” He glanced her direction and caught an impish, wry smile. The moon lit her eyes like two soft candles adorning her face. He focused back on the path ahead.
“You’re acting pretty…loose this evening.”
“Hmm. I haven’t been called ‘loose’ for quite a while, although there was a time…”
He came to an abrupt stop. She slowed to a stop, turned and faced him.
“What’s going on here. For weeks you don’t give me much more than a good morning grunt, and now you’re all talkative and ready to be friends.”
“What’s wrong with that,” she cooed with a girlish tease.
“Women. You’re all trouble. Your moods change with the wind, and even then, they may be false.” She continued to stand with her right hand on her waist. “What do you want from me?”
“I’m sure you can come up with a better question.”
“Ok, what’s up with you?”
She unzipped her jacket, shrugged it off her shoulders and let it fall to the ground. Her fingers started on the top button of one of his flannel shirts she liked to borrow. “Maybe I’m horny.”
“What…?”
“Race you back to the cabin.” She bolted, leaving the flannel shirt in her wake. “Can’t come in unless you’re naked,” came from over her shoulder as he fumbled with his jacket and stumbled over his feet.
Back at the Cabin (con’t)
“So, does that statement mean you ally yourself with the US?”
“Why should you believe me even if I said yes?”
“That was my next question. You like to stay well ahead of the game.”
“Now that’s where I draw the line.” She stood up and slammed her fork down for emphasis. “Too many people think what I do is a game. This is no fucking game! Ping pong is a game. Monopoly is a game. Cops and robbers is a game. Drug addiction is even a game. I kill human beings. I kill their parents, their sisters, their brothers, their husbands and their wives.” She turned away from him. “I kill their children.”
He looked her over. Her shoulders showed resignation, yet the rest of her body, from her flexed arms to muscle-tightened legs screamed attack. Better to just listen at this point ol’ boy…
“I never asked you to save me. I’ll never thank you either. I was supposed to die with those men. Just my luck I get rescued by a boy scout.” She turned back to face him and sat.
“Why don’t you just go out in a blaze of glory and take as many bad guys with you as you can?”
“I’ve thought of that. What if I failed, like the car crash? The people who want me will get any information out of me they want. They know it, I know it.”
“So blow your brains out.”
“For some reason I can’t seem to do that. Something stops me every time. I don’t know why. There’s a sense of wrongness in it all. The car crash was a random moment where I thought I could solve all my problems with this world in one tragic act. Two of those men were very dear friends.”
“The third?”
“My ‘husband’ and a traitor. He sold out.”
“You’ve lead a hell of a life.”
“Look, don’t sympathize with me. You don’t know. I might kill your aunt, your sister, your best friend or even you some day.” She pushed her chair from the table, stood and strolled to the door. “Isn’t it time we get out of Walden Woods?”
Back at the cabin…
He rattled the pots and pans as he boiled water for coffee and reheated last night’s meatloaf. She didn’t like instant coffee. That fact satisfied him.
“You’re just going to sulk because a woman kicked your ass – twice. Or is it because you didn’t get any?” She curled around him without touching him like smoke around a tree branch.
“One day you’re going to wish someone wanted you.” He flipped the knob that controlled the coffee water to the off position and spooned three teaspoons of caffeine into a cup.
“So you’re my knight in dingy armor?”
“Your knights don’t live long enough to enjoy it, do they?” He noted an ever-so-slight tic of a reaction. Did he finally prick a nerve?
“What makes you think I ever let those guys have me?” She pushed back the kitchen curtain, peered out the window a moment, then sat back down at the table. “Never happened, bub.”
“Individually or collectively?”
A laugh burst out of her mouth before her answer. “Are you trying to piss me off? I could care less about your opinion of me, but I won’t try.”
He gestured an offer off coffee and she shook her head no. “I did a little research on you while you were out.”
“Oh really? What kind of reach does a small-time cop like you have?”
“I’ve been around, babe. For instance, I know you bailed on your last three operations.” She rewarded him with one slightly arched eyebrow. “I also know they kept you on because of your close rate. While you clearly are losing your edge, you still have what it takes to fool most of the people most of the time.”
She poked her piece of meatloaf around her plate a trip or five. “Good men have died for less info on me than that. You better hope your connection is safe.”
“I would normally interpret a statement like that as a sign you care. I’ll take it as a personal warning – from you.” She tensed slightly. He lowered his right hand to his waist, near his pistol.
“Relax, if I wanted you dead, I’d have had you long ago.”
“What’s your game. Scuttlebutt I picked up says you turned.”
“What’s up with a question like that? Why would I turn on my own people?”
“The question is not have you turned. The question is – how many times, and is it now back in our favor?”
She finally opts to take a bite. “I guess that depends on ‘whose’ favor you’re speaking of. Friends in the Pentagon are not necessarily friends to the United States.”
Confusion
Cheryl surveyed as much horizon as possible. The damned tree simply could not supply the vantage point she needed. Daniel no doubt set out tracking her when he came to. The recognizance she required must wait another day. She shinnied down the tree. The trek took her five minutes.
She needed to put on the Samantha persona before he arrived. Not too difficult. Samantha only strayed slightly from her real self.
Do I have a real self anymore? So many betrayals. So much death. Distrust everywhere.
She selected a massive, shaded rock, climbed and laid down on her back.
It’s quiet here. Peaceful. I could get used to this. Too bad it never lasts.
Daniel snapped a twig with is left foot. He did so on purpose. She heard him four steps back. He wanted to see if she would bolt.
“Was it good for you too?” She smirked. His hesitation to answer spoke volumes.
“Let’s get back to the cabin.” The words plodded to her ears on a sullen breeze. Maybe she pushed him too far.
Fiction's Footsteps 