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T
HEY
looped to the southwest around Cambridge proper, and then met up with the defunct Idaho Power high-transmission towers, most of which were still standing. They led directly northwest to the dam, and there were old access roads to the towers for easier trailblazing. Matt knew it would be rough going nearer Hells Canyon, but Johnson hadn’t mentioned surveillance on that route.

They met Beni and Miz at the junction of 71 and the transmission lines. And they spent the next two kilometers listening to Beni complain about (1) having to wait more than an hour for them to arrive while hiding in a ditch (which Miz somehow kept her in, despite Beni’s protests; Matt suspected big teeth were involved); (2) her aching bottom, which did not take kindly to “bumping along” on Miz’s back; and (3) needing to find a decent “little girls’ tree.” She mentioned frequently that one—or both—of them rubbing her aching bottom would greatly relieve her discomfort.

Finally, Matt faked a surveillance alarm, one that required them to keep moving but stay as silent as possible. “What was that alarm?” James asked quietly when they had stopped at the next little girls’ tree.

“It’s the alarm that tells me the people I’m extracting talk too much.”

“Oh.” James smiled.

They were well into what the GPS told them was Advent Gulch when Matt decided he’d had it. He wanted to go home, to the family’s ranch. To the old bunkhouse out the back door he’d converted into his own space. His shoulder hurt, he was still exhausted from the nano-menders, and probably he was drained from the orgasm James had sucked out of him against that tree near Cambridge. He just wanted a big, soft bed and James wrapped around him in it. Preferably in a postcoital haze.

This whole trip, in spite of having to divert far off the original, and the secondary, and even the tertiary plan, in spite of being wounded, had been somehow easy. James was easy to be with. He liked being with James. He loved being with James. He needed to suck it up and admit he was in love with James.

They were behind enemy lines, being pursued by AI and humans, dragging along Sister Maligna, and he was recovering from the worst wound he’d suffered since leaving the military. And he was happy. Fuck the questions about submission and control. He’d accepted he was a dedicated bottom—he could accept this.

Accept it? Shit, he fucking loved it. When James had had him on his knees, begging for it in front of Logan, he was so turned on he was out of his mind. James did something to him that sent him into orbit, and he wasn’t letting go of that.

Matt stopped that train of thought before things got out of hand and made himself focus on the current priority. Getting them the fuck out of here. They were on the home stretch, now.

They stopped to camp somewhere on a ridge above the gulch. They were in a drainage ditch somewhere near the top, plenty of brush to hide them from the air, but James made a point of camping close to rocky ground.

After they ate, Beni dropped off to sleep immediately. Matt had relented and told her she didn’t have to keep quiet anymore, but by then she’d been exhausted. Apparently the life of a nun wasn’t too physically arduous. Miz snorted horse snot out on her and wandered off to crop some of the grass and maybe some nice brush.

James took first watch. “Sleep a while, babe. You’re better, but not a hundred percent.”

“Just promise you’ll wake me up, James. You need to sleep too.” James promised, but Matt didn’t entirely believe him. He was too exhausted to argue, but he set his internal alarm to wake him up in five hours.

Almost five hours later it wasn’t James who woke him up, but his leg. It was starting the percussive thumping that signaled SAIA.

“James!” He quickly turned his head toward Matt, alerted by Matt’s tone. “SAIA.”

James looked back down the drainage while he picked up the digi-camo he had out and ready. “I’m probably looking right at the fucker. Jesus, they’re good at camouflaging those things.”

Beni was close by, but she needed to be in the rocky area with them under the digi. Matt didn’t even bother trying to wake her up. He just dragged her over, bedroll and all. It was going to be a tight fit, even worse with Miz. Beni would probably be less of a liability asleep. He shot a glance at James, and figured by the slightly faraway look in his eyes he was calling to the mare.

Miz must have been sleeping, too, and when she came thundering up she was drooling green, grassy spit and farting. Matt rolled his eyes.

During the two minutes it took them to get organized, the thrumming in his leg was getting stronger. He could swear the bird was practically on them. And personally? He wasn’t interested in another run-in with one.

He didn’t even bother speaking with James, just opened his mind. James ordered Miz down (well, she lay down, at any rate) and he lay right up against her back, their packs arranged perpendicular to their heads. Matt yanked Beni close and lay down right next to James while he arranged the digi-camo over them.

He couldn’t be positive, but Matt could swear the bird was on top of them seconds after they got under the digi-camo. The bird was close enough to them that they could hear its blade slicing the air now. His leg was thrumming so much he expected it to start ringing like a tuning fork.

It was there forever. It must have sensed something. Just when he could feel James tensing, like he was about to take some action, the bird finally started to move away.

Matt’s muscles relaxed all at once, like he was coming down from a seizure. “Jesus Henry Christ,” he whispered to himself. James slipped an arm around Matt’s waist and kissed the back of his neck.

“I think they’re just searching all the drainages near the old highway. Johnson said it was one of the routes they were focusing on. Coincidence.” They were close enough to 71 from here they could practically see it.

Matt was suddenly so relaxed—so drained—he thought he might be able to fall asleep right here, even with the sharp rock digging into his thigh. He could feel James relaxing behind him. Miz was snorting a little, kicking out her legs and hauling herself up, pulling the digi-camo along with her until Matt reached out a hand and grabbed it. James didn’t have a free hand; he was too busy stroking a thumb between Matt’s pecs.

Miz stood, finally free of the digi-camo, snorted once indignantly, and wandered off. Matt could feel James’s lips on the back of his neck, curving into a smile. “Now she’s mad at us for making her lie under the digi-camo.”

Matt laughed silently, but didn’t say anything. He snuggled further into James. James tightened his grip.

Would it be so bad if no one but Miz was on watch? They could lie here under the digi-camo and drowse. They’d be safe with all the sensors they had. And Matt’s leg. He wondered what James was thinking.

Judging by James’s even breathing, he wasn’t thinking much. If he wasn’t asleep, he was nearly there. Matt took a second to dig the rock out from under him, let his eyelids drop, and settled in a little.

That’s when Beni woke up, of course.

“Oh! What are we under this blanket for?” Matt gave an exasperated sigh. James woke up, lying still but alert. Neither one of them said anything, waiting to see what Beni would do.

She snuggled back into Matt.

He leapt up, the digi-camo slithering off him. “Don’t you put your ass in my groin ever again, you nymphomaniacal little nun!”

Beni pushed herself up on her hands and looked back over her shoulder at him. She studied his face. Then the lip started pouting. “Dammit! You aren’t any fun.” She flopped back down, then rolled over on her back and looked at James inquiringly.

“Don’t look at me,” he said. “I’m no fun, either.” He rolled over and wrapped himself in the digi-camo.

Matt guessed it was his watch.

I
T
WAS
dawn after their second night, and they were looking down at the Brownlee Ranger Station. It was crawling with militia. Matt scratched his head, where some of the brush James had decorated—his word had been “camouflaged”—it with was poking at him.

“This shit itches.” Was he whining? It didn’t sound that whiny to him. But judging by the look James shot him, he was whining.

“That shit is keeping your head from looking like a head.”

Matt just sighed. “Fuck, I hope we can trust Beni by herself back at the camp.”

James snorted in agreement. They’d installed Beni under an overhang beside a mostly dry creek bed and climbed up the bank. Then James had decorated him, and they’d half crouched, half belly-crawled their way to this overlook.

“Miz is watching her,” James pointed out.

It was Matt’s turn to snort. Jesus, the only one of their party who didn’t snort was Beni. Matt was giving her another twenty-four hours before she started. She certainly had glaring and pouting down pat. At least Beni wouldn’t spray out horse boogers when she snorted.

Hopefully, in twenty-four hours, Beni would be someone else’s problem. Like some poor, straight SOUF trooper.

“Yeah, Miz looked thrilled about that. She must have learned about pouting from watching Beni.” James had to stifle a laugh. Their conversation was subvocal, but the laugh would have stood out like an undecorated head.

In order to speak so softly, they had to be really, really close, of course. Matt hooked his ankle over James’s leg. James shot him an unreadable look. What was that?

James had been acting a little weird. After waking up yesterday, he’d been a little bit distant. It might just be the stress of the trip. It was probably hard on James to be in charge of the little group. He was responsible for the welfare of his lover, a nun, and a talking horse. That couldn’t be easy.

Matt was willing to admit James was the better soldier of the two of them, and far better trained in wilderness survival skills. He was content to let him run the show. It made Matt feel secure. (And he really, really wasn’t thinking about all the implications of that.)

His neurotic self was telling him James was losing interest in him, because he was too clingy. Matt ignored that voice. But he unhooked his ankle from James’s leg.

“We can probably head back. It looks like pretty normal activity down there. I think it hasn’t occurred to anyone that we might go overland. They seem to be focusing teams on the highways and trails.”

James didn’t sound completely confident in that, and Matt was dubious too. But they slid backward off the rise they’d been on and crawled until they could walk back to camp.

When they got there Beni was half-naked, brushing her long (and very attractive, even Matt could see that) hair and humming some song. Matt cocked his head, looking at her, opening his mind to James. He caught James’s surprised jerk out of the corner of his eye.

If Matt were straight, would this picture of innocent seduction work, or would he have seen through it then, too? And if he’d seen through it, would he still take advantage of it? Probably. Guys were guys were guys.

He tried to picture James setting up some similar seduction, but it was just too ridiculous. He started laughing out loud. James did too.

“You were broadcasting that picture,” James said through his laughter. Matt was looking at him, so he didn’t actually see the brush coming toward them, but he watched it bounce off James’s head.

James stopped laughing abruptly, and turned to Beni. He had the stony look, but Matt could see the fire in his eyes.

“This is gonna be fugly,” he whispered to himself.

It wasn’t, really. James just calmly picked up the brush and walked toward Beni. She looked terrified, biting her fingernails and watching James advance on her. He stopped, looked down at her a moment, then held out the brush. Hesitantly, Beni reached for it.

But when she tried to take it, he didn’t let go. “What is your problem?” James asked.

Her eyes began to fill, and her lips trembled. Then she scrunched up her face in possibly one of the most unattractive looks on any woman, ever, and she wailed, “Neither of you wants to f-f-fuck me!” For a nun, she’d taken to the F word like a fish to water.

James let go of the brush and planted his hands on his hips, staring down at Beni while she sobbed. Matt thought they had to be real tears. She had snot streaming down her red face, with an awful scrunchy look on it. Definitely not the demure crying she’d probably practiced in front of the mirror. He was pretty familiar with that.

When she’d calmed down a little, James said in his I’m-trying-to-be-patient-with-you voice, “We’re gay, Beni. We like to fuck men. Men with penises and body hair.”

“I have body hair,” she sobbed.

“Well, your lack of a penis is a deal-breaker, honey.” James was starting to sound amused.

Beni sobbed more, but once she’d finally calmed down a little, she tried again. “Wouldn’t you like to know what it’s like to sleep with a woman? Just once?” She included Matt in her question.

“I’ve been with women, Beni. I prefer men.”

Matt decided not to mention his own complete lack of experience with women. It would just muddy the issue. He moved forward to stand beside James and looked down at Beni.

“Listen, Beni, you’re a virgin, right?” James asked her in a kindly, brotherly tone.

“Y-yes.” She nodded.

“Wouldn’t you like your first time to be special? With someone you love, who loves you?”

She looked at him blankly. “No.” She was well and truly bewildered.

They were at an impasse. Matt could feel James drawing a deep breath, like he was about to start on a new tack. This could go on all day.

“Beni,” Matt spoke up, “tomorrow night we’re going to swim across the river, and then we’ll be in Oregon. There’ll be at least six Special Forces troops on the other side, waiting for us. I’m willing to bet at least three of them are men, and statistically they can’t all be gay.”
As long as they aren’t related to me
. “One of them will probably be happy to relieve you of your virginity. Or whatever.”

She looked at him suspiciously. She had tears and other gunk dripping off her chin, but she’d stopped crying. “Are you
sure
there will be men there? Straight men.” She swiped her face with her forearm.