Free Misery by M. Garnet Page A

window. She placed a short order and moved back into her seat.
    He sat there not moving, just gripping the wheel.
    “Deck, we have to pull up to the window up there to pay for the meal. Do you understand?”
    He looked at her. He quickly swung his gaze away. She had her hair in a long braid. Her body had leaned on his chest, the braid had slid across his bare arm. He had never felt such a soft sensation in his entire life. For a long second he thought of having that hair softly floating over him, unbound and free. He reached down to turn the radio on. The sounds of Led Zeppelin roared. He moved the SUV ahead to take the food. He pulled a bill from the ashtray. He got change back, took the drink for her. They were back on the road, onto the highway, heading south.
    She munched and watched out the windows, taking quick looks at his profile as the time went by. She was careful with any crumbs, pulling all the papers and cup together to put everything into the sack. She folded it up tightly and set it by her purse on the floor.
    He approved of her neatness. In the field, you did not leave traces for the enemy to read.
    * * * *
    After about two hours he pulled his phone from a pocket and punched the answer button.
    She looked over — he must have it on vibrate. The conversation was his usual short words.
    “Yes.”
    “Two miles.”
    “Yes.”
    He put the phone away. For the first time on the highway, he slowed down, moving to the right hand lane.
    In a short time she saw the green road sign that indicated a state rest area. She was ready for a rest from the loud music, the heavy beat of drums accompanied by the guitars that vibrated through the vehicle.
    He pulled up next to an identical SUV, black tinted windows and all. GMC on the front, but large bumpers, big wheels, no fancy chrome on these vehicles. There were black runners as well as brush covers on front and back. As he put the window down, a big guy looking a lot like Deck leaned over.
    “Turn that damn music down so we can talk.”
    The music toned down without anyone touching a knob. She refused to ask.
    “Hey bro, you made good time — this has to be the female. Hello, I am Trump.”
    Unlike Deck he could smile, a big toothy catchy smile. She wasn’t sure what to make of all of this.
    “Alex has found us a place to stay. He is sending in reinforcements.”
    “I do not need help to keep her safe.” Deck’s voice was a low rasp.
    “Yep, and I am going to call the boss and tell him how to run his business, then I am going to dust myself. Anyways, you and I will be the only ones to have direct contact. My mate has told me that if I even think of touching her, I will sleep in the cold for two years. Female nightwalkers are a bitch when it comes to being possessive.” He grinned again, looking very proud.
    With all of this, Deck just sat and looked like his usual statue.
    “I see you are talking too much again, Deck. Okay, follow me.” The window of the other vehicle closed and took off with a scattering of gravel.
    She looked around as they were moving — okay, flying at ground level — up to ninety. What was with these guys, a need to see if the speedometer really worked? Just to make the night rush complete, the radio was loud again. She heard the announcer introduce Aerosmith and AC/DC. She was going to have a headache. She could only hope the safe house wasn’t too far away.
    She could see that they were in a mountainous area but the two vehicles didn’t slow down. They drove at these breakneck speeds for most of the morning on into the afternoon. They came into some suburbs. She saw, among rolling plains with mountains surrounding, large buildings for a good size city. Reading the signs she saw out in the middle of nowhere the sign for the Denver, Colorado Airport. It was impressive and modern but looked totally out of place in someone’s farm land. It must be many miles from the city.
    The two cars finally had to slow down to move with the heavier