VANGUARD(54)

Michael reddened, and ran his mouth up her throat to her ear. “Yes, you make me touch myself sometimes,” he whispered. “You always have. Do I make you do the same?”

Sophie blushed furiously, unable to look him in the eye. “I’m not answering that question…yet.” She felt a little breathless at the thought of Michael pleasuring himself. “But I will tell you that even when I have lain with other men, I have thought only of you.”

He groaned and ground against Sophie’s pelvis. She let out a squeak that was half surprise, half pain as an unexpected cramp shot through her belly. “Stop! This is…” She struggled for the right word in Orlisian. “…an unseemly place,” she finished with as much dignity as she could muster.

Michael laughed, his voice echoing in the shower room. A moment later, however, his laughter turned to coughing, and he spent a few moments bent double, trying to catch his breath.

“Very well then, mana mila,” he said at last. “I can wait until we get to a more seemly place before we continue any further. But I do not wish to hear any complaints if I drive a little faster than you are accustomed.”





-





Michael gunned the engine as the highway in front of them became reasonably smooth. Having cleared the worst of the bombardment damage, he was ready to put some miles behind them. He looked in the rearview mirror again, but no vehicles had followed them; clearly the Soviets had given up tailing the countless coalition vehicles that went in and out of the area to collect supplies.

He glanced over at Sophie sleeping restlessly in the passenger seat beside him. She hadn’t put up a fuss when he’d asked to drive, much to his surprise. Considering how green she looked by the time they cleared the town of Parnaas, he could see why.

“I’m okay,” she’d said when he’d asked how she felt. “But someone should call the Soviet Public Works department about that road.” Her eyes had fluttered shut soon after. Even in her sleep, she protested against his driving, wincing and moaning every time he jammed on the brakes or swerved quickly. Typical American.

It took well over three hours to get to Kaliningrad, complicated by the fact that she made him stop multiple times for bathroom breaks.

“I do not remember you having such a small bladder in GYL,” he said as she emerged from the ladies room at the rest stop. She gave him the finger, making him laugh.

Michael had to shake her awake when they arrived in Kaliningrad at the home of family friends who were holding his passport and identification. Sophie squinted at the little house, mouthing the address posted on the mailbox. Michael saw unexpected recognition cross her face, but before he had a chance to ask her what was familiar, an elderly couple appeared on the porch. Their expressions were wary until they realized who had arrived on the doorstep, then they cried out with joy.

Michael leaped from the car and sprinted to embrace them. Velna and Nikolajs had known him since he was a baby, having lived many years in Orlisia. They were thrilled to see him alive and well. He introduced them to Sophie, and Velna looked at him with a knowing expression that made him feel like he was thirteen years old again.

“Come in,” she urged. “Have tea with us.”

They settled into the neat, tiny living room. Velna brought a pot of tea and her delicious pryaniki cookies, sweet and spicy with just the right amount of honey. Nikolajs disappeared briefly and returned with an envelope. Michael opened it, his American passport sliding out into his hands. He heard Sophie let out a sudden sign of relief beside him.

He gave them a sanitized version of his experiences over the last several months. At some point in the tale, Sophie excused herself and left the room. Nikolajs was telling Michael about the impact the war had had on the local economy – bringing new business into Kaliningrad but devastating the border towns – when he started to feel uneasy.

Where was Sophie?

Michael glanced at his watch. He couldn’t remember when she’d left the room. Ten minutes ago? Fifteen? Was she not feeling well? Suddenly, the doctor in him started to think. And worry.

All those stops along the road. The warmth of her skin when he had touched her this morning. The little cries every time the car moved too suddenly.

He stood up abruptly. “Forgive me.” His hosts looked at him, startled. “I believe Sophie has been feeling unwell, and I wish to check on her.” Michael found the washroom and tried the door carefully, but it was locked.