Children of the House of Four Seasons: Jacky Thorne
Part 1 – To Africa
Jacky had been at the Chateau La Siroque for about twenty four hours, he’d flown with Rose and his Uncle Max and had been grateful for their company when they arrived. He knew his mother would be emotional but hadn’t counted on just how bad it was going to be.
Toni met the car in the drive and grabbed him, not waiting for him to speak. No words were necessary, they both cried and arm and arm went back into the house.
Rose had been grateful that Jacky was with them too, it put off what she knew was coming from her mother regarding her relations with Maxi.
Max was just glad to be home and after a brief hug and kiss with Toni he left her with her son and went up to take a shower and change clothes, he was exhausted mentally and physically.
Jacky was up early; leaving the rest of the house asleep he wandered down to the vineyard, a mist hung over the valley and he walked down the path toward the lake. He was glad he’d mended fences with his mother. As he came up to the lake his cell phone rang, it was his father.
"Everything okay over there?" Terry asked.
"Yes sir, Mum and I talked half the night."
"Good, I’m glad to hear that, Jacky. I’m um, thinking about sending you to Africa if you think you’re up for it, a good friend of mine has a daughter who needs an escort home. She evidently ran into some trouble in Djibouti and is now in Eritrea. Her mother is um, worried to say the least…I thought about you and unless you’ve got something else lined up…you’re still on the payroll."
Jacky was quiet for a moment considering what his father was asking, "What am I an escort service now…you paying me by the hour?"
Terry grinned, "Depends on the client…whether you’re worth it or not. If you say yes I’ll get the visas and papers you’ll need to get into the country. You’ll need to get to London, Jacky."
Jacky looked around at the lake and back over the vineyards, "I don’t have anything else lined up, Dad, When do I need to be there?"
"Yesterday would have been good but as we were both crossing the Atlantic, I only found out about an hour ago."
"A daughter, huh, how old is she…not some kid I hope?"
"She’s twenty-four…repack your bag and let me know; I’ll have you met at Heathrow."
"Okay…see ya." Jacky folded his phone…Africa; well even if it was just to escort some girl home it was going to get him out of the office…until he could find something else to do. He turned back toward the house; Uncle Max should have a flight schedule out of Marseilles.
Just before five o’clock he walked into SI, with a wink to the receptionist he made his way back to his father’s office. Brian was in there standing by Terry’s desk.
Brian looked him over and gave him a wink and a smile. "That’s all he’ll need, Terry, there are only three flights a week; we got him on the next one in, and he’ll have to cool his heels there for a couple of days."
Terry looked up, "Afternoon?"
"Hi," Jacky found a chair and sat down stretching his legs out wondering why he always had to wait in this office, wait for acknowledgement.
"Oakie dokie, Brian thanks. Are you ready to go?" he looked at Jacky while Brian closed the door.
"You’ve got three hours, time for a bite to eat and a beer to wash it down."
"I’m leaving tonight?"
"Is that a problem?" Terry stood up and slipped his jacket on.
"No," Jacky got up too, this was awfully quick.
"Come on, I’ll buy you dinner and fill you in, here take this and have a gander, your papers are in there too so don’t lose anything."
Settled in Terry’s favorite pub with a pint and a plate full of food Jacky asked the first question, "You said this was a friend’s daughter?"
"Yes, my friend’s name is Amy Roberts you’ve never met her, I’ve known her for about six years now. Her daughter is a photographer and took leave from her job to go off and photograph the aftermath of another disaster in Africa. She tells me she got a call from someone in Asmara saying they had her daughter there, it’s all in the documentation you have. They won’t release her on her own because she came up through Djibouti and they’re not speaking to that country right now. Amy hasn’t talked to her in two weeks and so she has no idea what condition she might be in. According to the official in Asmara her party had been attacked, her companions killed in Somalia. She was escorted through Djibouti to the border; a border guard took her to Asmara. All you have to do is fly in and get her and fly out."
"Was Brian talking about the flights in and out of Asmara, only three a week?"
"Yes he was; you’re booked on a flight tonight the next one out is in three days…make sure you’re on it with the girl. I know you’re travel savvy, Jacky, but you’ve got an American passport. It took some doing to get a visa for you; American’s are not popular in Eritrea so keep your head down and your mouth shut." Terry regarded his son, he knew he was a man at twenty-three, but he could still see that little boy in him, it worried him a little sending him off on this mission, but he knew Jacky ached for something; maybe this would appease him for a little while and for a little while he’d still have him.
Jacky put his knife and fork down and opened the folder, Pamela Roberts a nice big eight by ten photo. "This is the daughter,"
"Um yes, I’ve never met her…she lives in London when she’s home according to Amy. I think she calls her Pammy. That was taken in Somalia; last known picture of her was emailed to her mother."
"Is this um, a SI job or…"
"No…it’s private but I’m using SI’s resources, my prerogative." He smiled.
"Is this part of you ‘other life’ the one I’m not a part of?"
"I’ve kept my private life separate from my family. I had my own reasons for that."
"I wonder sometimes if I even know you. I go off to the House of Four Seasons and find out you’re a movie character come to life, so I digest that. So you’ve had women in your life…what’s the big deal; I wouldn’t expect you to live like a monk."
"I didn’t want to complicate your life anymore than it already was, Jacky."
"Whatever," Jacky took a drink from his glass. "You’ve been going with a woman for six years and are not sure what her daughter is called? You’re a piece of work you know that?"
"Yeah, I do. You need to read over the information in that folder, take her picture with you and the papers you need for travel, let me have the rest back, you don’t want to be caught with anything."
"You’re not going to Virginia, you’ll be searched just keep your cool, keep your head you’ll be there to pick up Pammy and get her home…that’s all."
Jacky looked at him a moment and sat back in the seat quickly reading over the papers, most of it his father had already told him. "Okay," he handed the folder back to him and put the papers and photo in his camera bag."
Terry liked that about Jacky he had a photographic mind, he would have made a good field agent but he’d promised his mother many years ago. He checked his watch "Should be getting you to the airport."
"Yeah, I’ll take the train."
"I’ll drive ya; you need to pick up your kit?"
"Yeah, probably just backpack it."
They went to Jacky’s flat and Terry walked around his son’s place, it was neat and clean…a few photos on the table tops, nice enlarged ones on the wall he’d taken in Greece and had framed. A young man’s domain, music and video gadgets, huge TV. A guitar in the corner, violin on top of a bookcase. Comfortable leather sofa, worn trainers under the table. A lot of books piled around. He turned, Jacky had changed into clean jeans, T shirt and a hoodie, he had his backpack on his shoulder and his camera bag, stooped to pick up his hat, one that Terry had given him a long time ago bought in Australia.
"I’m ready," he said but didn’t move.
Terry looked at him a minute and went over and hugged him, "I know you don’t like that but what the fuck."
Jacky blushed a little, "I don’t mind it." He didn’t mind his father hugging him now…somewhere along the road the past few days he found he wanted it.
"Okay, lock up and let’s get out of here." Terry went to the door and opened it.
Terry handed him a wad of cash, "Credit cards where you’re going are nonexistent. Change it as you need to at a bank. Good luck, Jacky, call me when you have the package oh and if you run into any trouble SI doesn’t know you, so call me direct at this number." Terry handed him a number on a card, "put it in your cell phone and tear up the card."
Jacky left him at the security check point and walked to his gate, it was a mission and not a mission something in between. That was cool…
Part 2 – Delays and Decisions
The plane landed in Asmara and Jacky was taken to a secure area and questioned, interrogated was more like it he thought, but after he mentioned the name of the official who called Pamela’s mother he was put in car a driven to the government building.
He was kept waiting for some time and he pulled his hat over his eyes and went to sleep. It was a nudge to his feet that woke him and he sat up pushed his hat back and looked up.
"You mentioned my name, come with me." Jacky picked up his backpack and camera case that had been thoroughly searched and his film taken at the airport.
"Terrance John Maximillian Thorne." The official read from his visa and his passport which he hoped would be returned.
"Yes sir that’s me, I’m called Jacky."
The official made a great show of going over his papers and looked through his passport. Jacky waited.
"You are an American but you live in England is that correct."
"What is your business in our country?"
"I’ve come to escort Pamela Roberts home."
"Oh yes, Miss Roberts…she has been our guest. Perhaps you are a relative?"
"No, I’m not a relative."
"Then why have you come?"
"Her mother requested that I come."
"Your passport says you have recently been in America, from there to France and to England. You travel quite extensively. What do you do Mr. Thorne?"
"Um I’m a photographer, freelance."
"Ah, that is your connection. Miss Roberts is also a photographer for her mother’s magazine. You are not employed there?"
"No, I freelance."
"You see I must ask these questions and verify what you say is true. You are an odd fish are you not?"
"I suppose so." What?
"At present we do not have good relations with your country. I am surprised you were allowed to travel here; it is discouraged by your government. How do you think you got here Mr. Thorne?"
"If you’re talking about America, I don’t live there; I haven’t since I was a baby. I live in England and in France."
"France…you don’t live there very often do you?" he was still flipping through Jacky’s passport.
"Not for awhile, my mother lives there."
"Why have you not obtained British citizenship?"
Jacky sighed, "I don’t know it never came up before."
It was an hour before the official stepped out of the room. Jacky was fully expecting to be hauled off to some jail hole to await execution as a spy. Instead a tea tray was brought in with many apologies for the lateness of the refreshment.
"Tomorrow you will meet with Miss Roberts and we will turn her over to you."
"Tomorrow…we have a plane to catch tomorrow."
"I must apologize again, there are no planes tomorrow."
"Three flights a week, I’m booked on that flight."
"There are no flights tomorrow."
"Okay what are my options?"
"Where do you want to go?"
"Ah Cairo, you would need to go into the Sudan. I cannot help you there. At Port Sudan there is an international airport but you must get there." He fingered his cup.
"How much…to get there?"
"You would not think of trying the bribe?"
"No, I’m asking passenger fare on whatever kind of transport there is available." Jacky was beginning to feel the heat, sweat trickling down his back. He was trying to keep his cool and stay out of trouble. He didn’t doubt for a minute the man in front of him could have him shot.
Suddenly the man became all business, "Unfortunately the train is a very unreliable transport. There is a bus for Kassala; it leaves every morning at 0700. From there you can get a train to Port Sudan. It is a long journey but it is safe."
"Kassala is in Sudan, right?"
"Yes, I am sorry but that is the best I can do."
"The planes when will they be flying again?"
"That I do not know. We had one shot at this morning and that is why they are not flying. I am very sorry for your problems Mr. Thorne. I can do nothing."
"There’s no other way out…what about the sea?"
"Then you would put yourself at the mercy of pirates. They ply these waters."
"What about private transport, could I hire a car?"
"If you have money you can do most anything Mr. Thorne."
Jacky took a breath, "Then I want to hire a car and set off now."
"Why the hurry?"
"Her mother is worried."
The official looked at him and smiled a little, "You are young Mr. Thorne; tomorrow morning there will be a car for you at the hotel. You may have Miss Roberts tonight, eh? Heh, heh yes tonight." He laughed again.
Jacky didn’t see the humor.
The official left again for a while and came back. Jacky followed him to another building and a door was opened to a small room. Sitting in a chair with her back pack on the floor was Pamela Roberts.
The photograph didn’t do her justice, disheveled and dirty as she was, she was a knock out. Scandinavian heritage somewhere, pale blond hair caught back in a long braid, crystal blue eyes that looked up at him through a fringe of dark lashes.
"G’Day…I’m Jacky Thorne…I’ve come to escort you home."
A flicker in her eyes and she stood up in her dusty khaki and extended her hand, "Pam Roberts…I’m awfully glad to see you."
The official escorted them to the door, a car and driver took them to the hotel, the best in the city. Pam stuck right beside Jacky when he went to sign in, "I don’t trust anyone, get one room we need to stay together."
He looked down at her and handed over some bills and got one key. "You’re sure about that?" Jacky picked up both backpacks.
"Yeah, I’m sure, we need to talk."
Jacky unlocked the door and stepped back for her to enter, she went straight to the bathroom. He dumped the packs on the bed and went over and opened a window, the room was stiflingly hot. No air conditioning. He removed his hat and ran a hand through his hair. He’d slept in fits and starts for the last 24 hours and the bed looked good. But she wanted talk. He waited and finally heard the bath going, she was taking a bath. He sat on the end of the bed for a minute and fell backwards.
Jacky woke with a start, it was dark in the room he had somehow managed to get himself on the bed in his sleep, when he turned over it was to face a pair of female legs, long and fine he looked up to see where they began, it was covered with a shirt, one of his he noticed. He sat up on the bed and had a look at her. Wow.
He carefully got off the bed and headed for the bathroom, stopped and looked around clothes draped over everything, she’d done her laundry. His backpack was open on the floor, not that he minded, it had been rifled through all over the world. Glancing back at the bed he smiled a little, she only wanted a shirt.
He took a bath himself and came out with a towel around his waist found some boxers and a tee shirt. She hadn’t moved on the bed. He picked up her backpack, limp now and empty except for a notebook and a few items in the bottom. It was ripped and torn with a few holes in the sides, he looked at the holes carefully…could be bullet holes he thought and looked at her again. She had been through some bad shit.
He wandered around the hotel room found a bottle of water and checked the cap it was sealed. He drank the water looking out of the window at nothing past the lights from the hotel. Darkest place he’d ever seen. A sound from the bed and he turned, she was awake pulling his shirt down over her body to cover herself.
"Better now?" he asked.
"Yes, thank you. I’m sorry your name again?"
"Jacky Thorne, you’re wearing my shirt."
She looked down, "Um, yes; well all my things were filthy I had a wash."
"I see you did. How are you?"
"Good…a little hungry what time is it?"
Jacky looked at his watch from the light in the bathroom, "Just after seven. It’s been a long day; mine stared about 36 hours ago."
"Where have you come from?"
"Thorne, any relation to Terry Thorne?"
"Yeah do you know him?"
"No…my mother does. Did he send you?"
"Yes…he’s my father."
"I thought so, you look like him. I’ve seen a photo in my mother’s flat."
"What happened to you?"
She looked down pleating the shirt with her fingers, "I was in Somalia taking photos and we heard there was going to be raid on the village so we got out and were headed for the border with Djibouti. There was a helicopter that fired on us, we were in a van, my um friends killed and then the van caught fire and the driver stopped and got out and ran. We weren’t far from the border so I got in the driver’s seat and took off."
"With it on fire?"
"Yes, I got scared and stopped again and grabbed my things and ran for the border. They shot at me, the border guards. So I just sat down on the road…I didn’t care anymore you know. The driver of the van ran up to me and said for me to go on to the border, that I could get through because I was English. So I took a chance and ran toward them. The van driver was shot…I didn’t even stop; I just kept running thinking I was going to be next. They took me and interrogated me, took my camera and all my film…all my work."
Jacky didn’t know when he’d moved to the bed and sat beside her with his arm around her while she told her story hesitatingly between sobs.
"I had been working with a crew, they were Jordanian. There were five of us…I was the only one to make it out alive."
"What the bloody hell were you doing there in the first place?"
"Taking photos…I was going to do a book."
"You’re one lucky Sheila."
"My name is Pam."
"I know…that’s just an Aussie expression."
"What are you?"
"I don’t know, I was born in America, my mother is an American, my father is…Australian and I was brought up in England and France."
"I couldn’t place your accent. I’m sorry about all this, sorry you had to come."
"No problem for me, I wasn’t doing anything. You’ve had a hell of an experience. Um, you said you were hungry?" he moved his arm from her shoulders.
"Yes, my clothes should be about dry; maybe we could ask downstairs where to eat."
Jacky got off the bed and pulled a pair of jeans from his backpack and slipped them on. He turned his head slightly to see her pull on her panties. He took a breath and then turned around, "Wear my shirt…it looks good on you."
"Hope you don’t, mind I didn’t have anything else."
"No…not at all."
An eating establishment connected to the hotel provided a meal. They sat on low cushions and ate with their hands, something spicy with rice and yogurt.
"I don’t want to think what this might be," Jacky dipped the meat in the yogurt.
"It’s food, I’ve eaten some strange things while I’ve been here. When are we leaving?"
"Tomorrow morning, there are not any flights; all planes have been grounded because of gunfire. So we’ve got a car coming in the morning to take us to the border with Sudan, from there a bus to Kassala and from there a train to Port Sudan, we can get a flight to Cairo from there. Why did you say earlier that you didn’t trust anyone?"
"How much did you have to pay to get out?"
"Nothing, I’ll have to pay for the car hire."
"I had some money, cash… a good bit. It was taken in Djibouti that’s how I got to Eritrea. I didn’t have any for the border guards there so they brought me to Asmara. I was held in the compound you found me in except in a different area."
"They were going to ransom you?"
"I don’t know they never said."
Jacky thought about what the official said about money, how you could do most anything…he had a decision to make…whether to trust the official and the car coming for them in the morning or not. Now that they knew this girl was important enough to send an escort…and what about himself? He knew they suspected he was more than a photographer. His instinct told him to find some transportation tonight on his own and get the hell out of town before dawn. But what if he was wrong and put them both in danger. He distractedly took a piece of the meat and put it in his mouth, "Holy shite,"
She laughed, "You forgot the yogurt."
Jacky was licking yogurt off his fingers, "I’m not sure I trust that car the government guy is sending, what do you think?"
"I don’t know what to say…I don’t trust anybody."
Jacky looked around the eating room only two other guests both men. Who could he trust to find him a vehicle that would take them to the border? "Do you speak the language here?"
"Some Arabic, but you know it’s different wherever you go, different dialects…"
‘Yeah I know…I got French and Spanish and Russian but no Middle Eastern dialects at all. Let’s um, finish up here and walk out. Maybe we’ll find something."
What they found was a battered looking Rover tucked in beside a ramshackle looking building on the outskirts of the main square. Jacky walked up to the door and knocked.
A woman answered the door, barely opening it. Pam asked her about the Rover and after a few tries she got an answer. "It belonged to her husband, she speaks a little English, Jacky…her husband was English."
"Do you want to sell the vehicle?"
"Just offer her a sum," Pam said.
Jacky looked at Pam and pulled out a few bills, "For the Rover? Does it run?"
The woman looked at the money, English money she could take to the bank. Her dark eyes looked at Jacky, he added another bill and she took the money and closed the door.
"Oh nice," Jacky said. The door opened again and she held the keys out and shut the door quickly.
"Okay, we’ve got wheels…no idea if they roll or not." Jacky went to the vehicle and began clearing it off.
Part 3-Fire in the Desert
Jacky got the Rover going and drove it back to the hotel. They went upstairs and packed up taking all the bottles of water they could find even from the lobby.
"There’s not much fuel but hopefully it will get us to a petrol station."
Dawn found them forty miles from the border at a petrol station waiting for it to open. The Rover had coughed and sputtered its way in. Jacky shared the bag of peanuts he’d gotten on the plane with her.
"How far is Kassala from the border?" she asked taking a drink of water.
"About 200 Km I think," He pulled off his hat. "I was just thinking…I don’t have a visa for Sudan."
"I didn’t have one for Djibouti or Eritrea either."
Finally the station operator arrived and filled his tanks and sold him two extras which he stowed in the back. He paid for the fuel and asked, "How far to the border?"
"It is forty- one Km but you cannot cross the border is closed."
"What do you mean it’s closed, we have to cross?"
"I’m sorry but Sudan has closed the border with Eritrea." He held up his hands
Jacky walked back to the Rover and got inside, "Fucking border is closed."
"Jacky, we’re trapped."
"No, no we’re not done yet." He knew what he should do, call his father; maybe he could pull some strings, he had contacts. He called the number.
"Dad um, run into a bit of a problem. The planes are grounded here due to gunfire, I didn’t trust the government official, and to make a long story short I’ve got Pam and I’ve bought a Rover to drive us out of the country. I’m about forty km from the border and just heard that the border is closed.
"What border would that be, Jacky?"
"Sudanese. I’m headed for Kassala."
Terry quickly brought up a map on his computer, "You don’t have the papers to get across the border."
"If we stay here, papers aren’t gonna matter."
"I don’t have an operative in that area…give me a minute here."
"The fuck you don’t, what do you think I am?"
Terry grinned. "How’s Pam?"
"She’s fine; we think they might have had in mind to hold her for money, maybe me too now; that’s why I declined the offer of the government’s car this morning."
"Good thinking…I got a memo today about that area, looks like Eritrea might be supplying arms to Somalia. Yes and Sudan is not the only country to close its borders. I’m trying right now…Brian get me something on this now…to get you across the border. A friend of a friend in Khartoum, just sit tight for awhile, take in the sights and head for the border not too close. I’ll call you back."
"Dad is trying to get us across the border, so we’re going in that direction." Jacky started the motor and got back on the road.
"Jacky what does your father do?"
"Have you ever heard of Security International? Well he’s just the best damn kidnap and ransom guy in the business. He owns the company…it’s what he does for a living, negotiates and rescues kidnap victims. Not just anybody but people who are insured for it. I’d say your mother hooked up with the right guy."
Pam smiled, "I’d say she did."
Twenty miles from the border he pulled off the road and found some shelter among a rock formation and a little vegetation. The sun was high in the sky now totally blue forever without a cloud in sight. He leaned on the rock, it was still cool from the night.
"Jacky, what do you do when you aren’t escorting?"
"I’m not sure I do anything. I take pictures."
"Do you really who for?"
"Myself, some I’ve sold and had published."
"Where, what kind of pictures do you take?"
"Buildings, people, beaches…I spent some time in Greece and Sicily. Then I went to Italy. That was last year."
"You just travel around taking pictures?"
"I sound wasted don’t I?"
"No, that’s what I do, but I’m told where to go. You don’t work for anybody?"
"I freelance; right now I’m employed by SI. Not that I do anything there, but it makes my Dad think I’m doing something worthwhile."
"My mother nearly had a heart attack when I told her I was going to Africa. She thinks it’s fine for me to go to tourist spots and photograph, but if I want to go somewhere on my own…"
"You didn’t exactly pick a safe place. Somalia…bloody pirate haven."
"I admit it was horrible, but I took some pictures that…well they’ll never see the light of day so it doesn’t matter what I did except get my crew killed. They were good people, a couple of them I worked with in Jordan. I’ve got that to carry around with me for the rest of my life."
"Sorry about your friends, Pam. I know it must be tough for you."
"Yes," she looked off toward the road there was no traffic, nothing. "We’re all alone out here."
Jacky reset his hat and followed her gaze. His eyes moved back to her; she still had on his shirt tied up around her waist, sleeves rolled up and khaki shorts to her knees, blue socks doubled over and desert boots. She was sitting at the base of the rock a little to his right.
"Are you um, seeing anyone special?"
She looked up at him, "No…not anymore."
"One of the Jordanians?"
"One of them."
"Thank you…my mother didn’t know."
"My lips are sealed."
"I trust you." Pam did trust him but then she had no choice out here. He was easy to be with and that was something.
Jacky swallowed, she might not if she knew what he was thinking.
"Your parents are divorced, where’s your mother?"
"They’re not really divorced but they haven’t lived together since I was two, she’s in France in Provence. Where’s your father?"
"Scotland. Mine are divorced…I was eight at the time. Did you stay with your father?"
"No I was divided up, a month with him and a month with Mum, until I went away to school then it was the holidays divided up until Dad began coming to France with me and staying for awhile."
"I lived with my mother but spent holidays with my father. We have a lot in common don’t we?"
"Yeah, I guess we do." Jacky looked at his watch becoming a little concerned it was past twelve now.
Twenty minutes later his phone rang.
"Jacky, I’ve got somebody coming from Khartoum to the border but it will be tomorrow before he can get there. Where are you?"
"In Bumfuck Eritrea."
"Are you on the road?"
"No I found the only rock formation in Eritrea and pulled up behind it we’re about fifty meters from the road and about 20 km from the border."
"Do you feel safe there?"
"Haven’t seen anything alive since we pulled off, no traffic on the road at all…what are you saying stay here all day and night?"
"According to my sources, there’s nothing between where you are and the border. How are you fixed for camping?"
"We’re not we’ve got water and some biscuits from the hotel."
"I know it’s going to be a pretty miserable night for you but unless you want to go back to Asmara…"
"No I’m not going back…okay are you going to call me when your man gets there?"
"I’ll call ya, make the best you can of it, Jacky."
"Yeah, thanks, Dad."
"Until he calls tomorrow, he said there’s nothing between here and the border…we could go back but…"
"No, I’d rather be out here than at the hotel wondering when they were coming."
"Yeah, me too. Guess we’d better make camp." Jacky put out his cigarette in the sand and went around to the other side of the rocks.
They removed the fuel cans from the back of the rover and Jacky got inside. Digging around he found a tarp and brought it out, "Make a little shade with this to get us through the day, tonight I can make a tent out of it."
"We could sleep in the back, I’m not sure I want to sleep in the sand there are things that crawl at night."
"Tight quarters, that won’t bother you?"
She looked at him, "No."
They cleaned the sand from the back of the Rover as best they could and made a place to sleep. They shared the biscuits and a bottle of water, rationing it now. Pam made sure he ate and drank the same as she did, not letting him give over to her as he tried to do. The afternoon was spent talking and telling stories about their travels. She had a deck of cards and they played cards until the light was gone.
It took a while to get situated in the back of the Rover; they took clothes out of their backpacks to provide a little padding. When the sun went down so did the temperature, Jacky had the tarp folded over them but it was body heat that kept them warm. At first he put his arm around her drawing her up against him spoon fashion. The warmth seemed to be settling around his groin right where her bum fit against him.
"We’ll never be here again, Jacky." She turned fitting her body against his.
"You know…you can’t do this to me." He said softly.
"But if I want to…if I need you to…"
"Then it’s on you." He kissed her softly at first and drew back he felt her hands in his hair and she pulled him to her lips again. It was total darkness the moon was up there somewhere but it’s light hadn’t penetrated the Rover behind the rock. It was all by feel and touch and taste that they found each other.
She held him tightly inside her until he thought he was going to burst before he began to move slowly, learning her body, trying to give her what she needed. He felt the fire in his veins like he’d never felt it before and he went with it. It took him over, she was part of him; the air seemed electric around them, sparking off the inside of the Rover. This was his element passed on to him from his father…fire. He’d never used it, never experienced it before until Pam. He lay spent on top of her trying to gather himself and understand what had just happened.
"Jacky, Jacky, Jacky…where have you been." She said against his neck.
"I don’t know…looking for you." He whispered.
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