Author's Note
: All characters are over the age of eighteen. This is a work of fiction: any resemblance to person's living or dead is coincidence. Any resemblance to Charlston WV that is
not
coincidence is the result of Google maps.
Recap
: Carl and Ruth are on the run, escapees from the Quarantine Zone around Philipsburg. They have so far eluded the authorities. Their crime spree has involved small scams, cons, and one sex-spree at a funeral home, where Carl rudely refused to let Ruth keep the Funeral Home office manager, Amber. They are now in West Virginia, on the road to Charleston. They don't listen to the broadcast, but the President has just declared a state of emergency - not mentioning the true state of affairs (an extra-terrestrial disease that induces unstoppable sexual craving, and initially resulted in a lot of deaths, although for reasons that scientists are still pursuing, this result has been diminishing); instead the President has declared that terrorists are holding the town hostage with some kind of nuclear device.
>>> Day 2 - Afternoon/Evening: Carl & Ruth
Ruth rode the girl's face like it was a rodeo, while Carl held her ankles and rammed himself into her. Her cries were muffled, but it was pure pleasure.
Ruth had been pouting about Amber all along the drive to Charlston, only pausing while they swapped cars with some hick.
("Again?" Ruth had complained. Carl: "Too much risk Amber or Salvator are going to phone it in, or get caught in the net. We need to stay ahead of the game.")
But her main complaint was she wanted a woman.
"That Amber, I just... I could smell her, you know."
They took the curves through the West Virginia hills at a cautious eight mph over the speed limit. Pickup trucks blew past them with enough speed the draft shook their car, now a somewhat worse-for-wear Chevy Malibou.
Everything was green. Lush, green, and a whole lot of empty.
"Let's just get ourselves a girl for tonight, ok? We don't have to keep her."
Carl kept current with his electrolytes, and strung her along. "We need to keep under the radar. We can't afford more Ambers or Salvators, not until we put more distance behind us. Each contact we make is a risk."
"Oh, come on, you want a girl as much as I do, I'll share her."
Carl kept a straight face. "We'll see. I don't think it's a good idea, but maybe if the opportunity shows itself. What do you want a girl for anyway?"
Ruth explained in detail what she wanted a girl for, and then refused to help Carl out with his erection unless he promised to make it happen.
* * *
During one silent stretch, Carl found himself in a deep appreciation for these incredibly smooth, practically
manicured
West Virginia roads. Pristine condition, beautiful banked curves. A true pleasure to drive. Then he noticed Ruth.
"What are you doing on the phone?"
Ruth was scrolling, scrolling.
"I told you, I'm looking for a girl."
"On
Tinder?
"
"Yeah, I'm pretending to be you."
"You know that's how the Ukrainians tracked the Russian invasion right? The Ukrainian girls pretended to want to hook up with Russian guys, tracked their advance."
Ruth shrugged. "You know, we're probably going to be caught anyway. Everyone always is."
"I wasn't," Carl pointed out.
"As I understand it, no one was looking. They're hunting us right now, and these hunters? They
find
their quarry. Plus, there's my husband. We are practically Thelma and Louise."
"I was thinking more Bonnie and Clyde."
"Sounds like you also think we're gonna die at the end of this."
"There's a pretty good chance. And as far as I'm concerned, I should have died back there. From this ... whatever it is. This time with you..." Carl waved at the lush green hills passing around them. "This drive? This is pure gravy."
Ruth was silent for a while.
"I was always such a good girl, and it always went wrong. Did you ever hear of Vexalon Energy?"
"Only some minor scandal. Cheating at dynamic pricing or something?"
"Yeah, that was me. Or rather, I was the whistleblower. I imagined I would reveal the sorry truth of those half-wits and incompetents, which I did, more or less, but it all turned to shit for me. They weren't very smart at either the crime or the cover up, but they were spot on with the revenge. My life was wrecked. And witness protection? Let me tell you, that's a shitshow. So I dropped out. Tried my own kind of disappear, but I didn't know what I was doing. Things got dicy and soon I found myself on the wrong side, which is where I met Yuri."
"Christ. I knew it was the Russians. You know you're in deep shit when both the American government AND Russian criminals are after you."
"Yuri's actually Israeli, but it's the same difference. You're not wrong."
"And you were cheating on this guy?"
"Yuri lost interest in me within months. I was an ornament. And I... I didn't know who I was anymore. But he doesn't let people take his things. So, yeah, he'll be looking for me. And I'm sorry to say, it won't be that hard to trace me to Philipsburg."
"Well, he'll have to be pretty sharp to track us
past
Philipsburg, unless he also has a tap on every phone, an eye in every sky, cameras on every corner, and AI's scrubbing every financial record."
"True, he's not the NSA, but he
can
be clever. I loved his tenacity and even, in a way, his brutality. He was exciting. I guess I wasn't."
Carl took a long look at her, watching her stare off into the wooded hills.
"I know a guy in Athens," Carl said. "He can build us new identities. It takes money, and a little time, but he's really good. If we don't go out in a blaze of glory, we can find another backwater to settle in. This trip is either short and exciting or long and boring. I don't see any middle. This country is big enough to get lost in, if they stop looking. Maybe things die down, and we become another footnote in another folder."
Ruth didn't acknowledge his train of thought. Still staring out the window: "The weird thing is, I feel most alive right now. More than any time I can remember. My body has... changed. I feel this vibrancy. I don't want to just fade into the wallpaper. I want to really live. For once in my life, I just want to live. And if that lasts a couple of days, it will be the best days of my life, and I'm good with that."
Carl let that sink in.
"I feel it, too. I know what you mean. I'm a porn-star superhero compared to who I was a week ago. And I love it. I feel like there's more we should be doing with this. But the only thing I know how to do is run away. And I'm
good
at that. So let's compromise a little and see how long we can keep our run going."
"I still want a girl."
"Charleston here we come." Carl felt his balls heavy between his thighs.
* * *
Jasmine watched over Chrissie's shoulder.
"No. No. No. No.
Definitely
not. Wait, you swiped
right
on
that
?"
"I like an older man."
Jasmine wrinkled her nose. "If he has money, maybe. That guy looked like a construction worker. And a photo while driving a
car
? That's just weird. Who does that?"
Chrissie shrugged and kept swiping.
Jasmine continued her commentary: "Anyway, why is anyone dating right now? No. No. Not that guy. We have Iranian terrorists or something up the road in Pennsylvania, and you want to go on dates? No. No. No... Ok, that guy... What was wrong with that guy?"
"I don't want another football player. Those clean-cut twenty year old's are guaranteed to be assholes. And they don't know how to kiss. Perfect time to be dating. Sex and death. Affirmation of life."
Jasmine sighed. "You're weird. And that guy? He
was
pretty good looking!"
"You swipe whatever way you want... on
your
app."
Jasmine pouted. "It's so much more fun to criticize you, though."
"It's all about the window shopping anyway," Chrissie said. "We're going to settle down with a couple of guys from a hardware store or something. The kind of we meet at the roadhouse. Or
I
am anyway.
You
could do better."
Jasmine scrunched up her face. "Don't say that. You're pretty."
"I am
plain
, Jasmine. And that's a fact. Too much belly, boobs are too small, this hair does nothing, I've got no ass at all."
"You've had more boyfriends than I have!"
"Um, you have had
no
boyfriends."
"There was Tom," Jasmine objected. "I dated him for quite a while."
"Tom was
gay
. Did you do anything more than kiss?"
"As a matter of fact, we did. And he liked it. He was... bi."
"He was gay as a goose."
"And there was Chuck."
"Nobody dates guys named Chuck. That was high school, and Chuck is Charles now and married to Betty and how long did you date Chuck? For an hour before and after Senior Prom?"
Jasmine pouted again.
Chrissie put her phone down and turned to face her friend.
"Jasmine, you are smoking hot and you know it. You can have any guy in town? Why are you single?"
Jasmine averted her gaze. "I'm just not ready, I guess. I'm no virgin, if that's what you're asking. I've had some experience. Enough to know that I want to hold out for a
good
man, someone who is
nice
, someone who is
tender
, someone who is
loving
. I'm not criticizing you, really I'm not. You should have as much fun as you want. I just don't want some hookup. I want something meaningful."
Chrissie shook her head. "Wish we could trade bodies then, because that bod was made for fun. And you're not even a crazy psycho-christian."
"Yeah, it's not that, it's just..."
And then Chrissie's phone chimed.
"Ewww. It's the old guy in the car," Jasmine said.
"He's not
