"It's been a long time since a woman [i]thanked[/i] me for sex," Frank told Allison. "I kinda like that."

"I find that hard to believe," she laughed, clarifying, "Not that you like that, but that a woman hasn't complimented on what you do between the sheets ... above the sheets ... atop the dresser."

She laughed again about how adventurous they'd been over the last hour or so. Frank laughed, too, telling her, "You're an amazing woman, Allison. I'm happy I met you. [i]Very[/i] happy."

"Me, too," she said, taking and squeezing his hand. "Me, too."

There was a crack of thunder, and Frank flinched. Allison did, too, but not because of the thunder. She'd seen the lightning through the drapes and had been expecting the soft rumble; it was Frank's reaction that had startled Allison, causing her to giggle.

"I want to check that out," Frank said, standing and crossing to the window.

Just as he'd found joy in ogling Allison's body, she now looked his over with admiration. He was a solidly built man, created by a life of hard work and healthy care of himself. It was easy to understand how he'd had the energy for their love making session. 

She heard him mumble, "That might help."

"What's that?" she asked. Frank didn't seem to hear her. She watched him with curiosity. 

Then he turned and headed back to her, saying, "I need to go now."

"[i]Now?[/i]" Allison asked with surprise. "It's not time. We talked about this."

Frank talked about the storm being over Greenburg and about how it would help him penetrate the militia's defenses. Allison didn't like this spur of the moment decision making. She and her family had been [i]planners[/i]; nearly everything that took place on the estate had been scheduled on a series of wall calendar for years, decades even.

But she understood what Frank meant about the storm and reluctantly agreed that the time was right. They dressed, packed a bag with food, flashlights, and shells for the shotgun, and headed out to the shed where Grampa's bike had been gathering dust until Frank found it yesterday.

"I'm still not sure about this," she once again said about his choice of transportation. "No one's ridden this thing for more than ten or fifteen minutes in years."

But the dirt bike fired up on a single kick, and after one last embrace, Allison watched as Frank disappeared into the night. She listened to the sound of the motorcycle's unmuffled tailpipe until it vanished into the night. Allison was left with just the sound of the distant thunder and the more closely located cry of an owl that had been haunting the property for years.
 
Back inside, Allison went directly to Robert's crib, finding him still soundly asleep. She changed into a comfy pair of flannel pajamas and returned to her bed, only to lay there staring at the ceiling as the flame of a candle danced upon it.

Too wired to sleep, Allison eventually rose, donned a warm robe, and went out to the front porch to watch the storm. Frank's optimism had won out, she realized soon enough; the storm was indeed moving in a southerly direction, right toward Greenburg. By the time he got there, she surmised, he'd been right in the midst of lightly, thunder, and possibly rain showers. It would be miserable for him, but it might just keep him safe from detection and enable him to succeed in his mission.  

Eventually, Allison felt her eyelids getting heavy. She returned to check Robert, then laid down. She was asleep in no time.