Frank watched Allison rise from the bed and head for the exit. She was a beautiful woman, shapely and strong, unlike the more petite Jennifer with whom he'd been [i]gettin' nasty[/i] for the last many months. Allison's life here had given her an energy that she'd put into making love to Frank, and her isolation and loneliness had given her a drive that had led to multiple orgasms for each of them.

Simply put, they'd fucked each other's brains out for over an hour, until each of them were covered in sweat and desperately in need of the water she was currently chasing down.

When she returned to the bed and handed him a tall glass, Allison told him, "That was magnificent, Frank. Thank you."

"[i]Thank[/i] you?" he laughed. He gulped at his water, then responded, "It's been a long time since a woman [i]thanked[/i] me for sex. I kinda like that."

He laughed, finished the glass, set it aside, and took a moment to ogle her womanly features. He returned the compliment with, "You're an amazing woman, Allison. I'm happy I met you. [i]Very[/i] happy."

Frank had a quick recollection of having said those same words to Jennifer not long after they'd met. It hadn't been after or about sex, though. He had had some time to discover who and what she was, a loving woman willing to take in someone else's child and raise it as her own, a woman desperate to regain a sense of the pre-pandemic life that I-55 had taken from her and from so many others. 

Jennifer had been a good woman, and Frank was sorrowful that she'd passed, particularly in such a violent way and, more tragically, because she'd put her faith in him and joined his flight from Greenburg without the proper protections. Frank had gotten Jennifer killed; he accepted that. It was that that was behind him wanting to get the others away from that town and the militia that ran it.

There was a crack of thunder off in the distance that caused Frank to flinch, then chuckle in embarrassment. He rose to his haunches and one outstretched hand, reached for Allison's head to pull their mouths together for a kiss, then told her, "I want to check that out."

Rising naked as his new lover also had, Frank went to the window and pulled the drapes aside. A moment later, a flash of lightning lit up the sky in the far east. It took several seconds for the soft rumble of the thunder to reach them. He mused, more to himself than to Allison, "That might help."

Frank looked back to his new housemate, again taking in her beauty. He wanted nothing more than to return to her and resume fucking her, but a thought had gotten into his brain and he couldn't get it out. Looking back out the window after catching another flash out of the corner of his eye, he counted the seconds before the thunder reached him. 

He was no meteorologist, of course, but he'd learned a few things over the course of his life, and one of them had been how to calculate the distance to the heart of a storm based on the time between the flash of the lightning and the rumble of the associated thunder.

"I need to go now," he said, turning and heading around the end of the bed and then sitting on it next to Allison. He kissed her again, passionately, then explained, "There's a chance that that storm is going to be over the top of Greenburg tonight. A [i]chance[/i]. I can't be certain. But if it is, it will help hide what I'm trying to do. I need to go. [i]Right[/i] now."

They had already settled on a plan to get the others away from Greenburg, but they'd set a date for 11 days from now when there was a New Moon and Frank wouldn't be lit up by the moon's reflection of light down upon him. This was better, he told Allison; the storm would block out the moon and the thunder would cover the sounds of the work he had to perform.

"I have to go now," he repeated after they discussed it some more. Frank kissed Allison, pulling the bedding up to wrap it around her now-gooseflesh covered body. "I'll be back. I promise." He pulled her body to his, kissing her erotically again as his hands caressed her under the sheet. "If you think I'm going to risk never having another night like this..."

[center].....................[/center]

Less than an hour later, Frank was ready to leave. He'd dressed in the darkest colored clothes that Grampa had had to offer and even darkened his face and the backs of his hands using the last vestiges of shoe polish from a can that Allison told him was probably more than forty years old.

He'd come up with his plan after discovering an old 125cc dirt bike under a cover out in one of the outbuildings the day before. Allison had told him they kept it for when the younger relatives visited, taking it up and down the driveway or sometimes to a local dirt bike track. No one had used it in almost two years, and yet after Frank spent a couple of hours doing some routine maintenance on it and filling the tank, it fired up and roared after just one kick on the starter.

"It's Saturday night," he told Allison as they prepared a backpack for him in the kitchen. "Believe it or not, things haven't changed a lot in Greenburg when it comes to the days of the week. The citizenry still works harder than they should have to Monday to Saturday, Saturday nights are for partying and getting drunk, and Sunday is a day of rest.

"The Militia's patrols are at their lowest Saturday nights," Frank reassured her, "and even the one's on duty will be drinking and will have ... [i]company[/i] if you know what I mean. This is what you and I were planning, a Saturday night mission. Only thing that's changed is I gotta go now." 

The farewell wasn't easy after the night they'd [i]just[/i] had together, but Frank knew it was the right thing to do and he hoped that Allison knew it, too. Returning to the outbuilding, he topped the tank off, donned the backpack, slipped Allison's shotgun down into a makeshift scabbard he'd mounted to the bike's frame, and pulled her close for one more long, passionate kiss. 

"I gotta go," he whispered to her. One more kiss, and he kicked the bike into first. Before he shot it off into the night, he promised with the well-known and often repeated Arnold Schwarzenegger accent, "I'll be back."

And he was gone.