16.
 They climbed up stealthily, two shadows, and crept toward her Ford. She could practically smell the explosives populating every nook and cranny under the chassis. One spark from the ignition, and it would all be over.
They heard laughter from the building. Two new guys stepped outside, holding odd looking beam guns. They lit up earth-grown cigars and talked softly. Their voices were filled with quiet triumph.
Korinta and Rodney crept to the Ford. She reached up and quietly unlatched the door. She froze at the small sound it made, a click that seemed to echo around the parking lot, but the goons at the door must have thought it was a noise made by one of their own.
Korinta crawled inside, loosened the brakes, put the car in neutral, and waited.
Not hearing any change in the soft sounds of laughter and conversation coming from the gunmen, she crawled back out. “Ready,” she told Rodney. She hugged him to herself, kissing his neck and his ears. “My dear hero!”
He hugged her back, and she could feel his hands cold with fear. “You’re with me,” he said, “and that is all that matters to me.”
“As you save the Earth,” she whispered, kissing his cheeks.
“I’d better get going before I lose courage.”
“I love you, my dear man. Wait a moment, and I’ll help you. Hold on!” She strained, and before his eyes turned into Sparto.
Sparto and Rodney shook hands. “Good man!” Sparto said with his deeper voice. He had beard shadow that could create fear, not to mention piercing dark eyes and pile-driver brows.
Rodney knelt by the door and prepared to push.
Sparto crawled behind the car, braced his powerful, broad-shouldered male body, and nodded to his wife’s lover. “Go!”
“All right,” Rodney whispered. “Tell Korinta I love her.”
“I will!”
“And my last thoughts are of her.”
Together they pushed. For a second nothing happened. Then the car began to roll. Slowly at first, then faster. It gathered speed, bumping slightly downhill.
“Hey!” someone yelled.
“A car!”
“Shoot!”
“Go!” Rodney yelled.
Sparto jumped back letting him go. Rodney jumped into the car and hugged the steering wheel while reaching out toward the ignition. That was the last anyone ever saw of him.
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Thank you for reading. If you love it, tell your friends. Please post a favorable review at Amazon, Good Reads, and other online resources. If you want to thank the author, you may also buy a copy for the low price of a cup of coffee. It's called Read-a-Latte: similar (or lower) price as a latte at your favorite coffeeshop, but the book lasts forever while the beverage is quickly gone. Thank you (JTC).
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Copyright © 2018 by Jean-Thomas Cullen, Clocktower Books. All Rights Reserved.
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