Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Secret Window, Secret Garden. But I would love to own a certain Mort Rainey. -wink- He can run, but he can't hide!

Author's Note: We have about 3 chapters to go! This story just flew by, sadly. Let's see how Mort and Zoë are holding up, shall we?

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-When she came to, she found both police officers on the floor.

Dead.-

Zoë let out a weak gasp and crumbled to the floor, pulling her knees to her chest. Did she…did she kill them? She glanced off to the side to see her gun tossed underneath the coffee table.

Ohmigod. She did, didn't she? The safety was off. Then she glanced at the bodies. The men, Hernandez and Smith, were staring back at her with glazed over eyes. Blood was pooling around their bodies.

They were shot in the chest.

I'm a great shot, aren't I?

"What did you DO?!" Zoë screamed wildly, clutching her head, repeating, "What did you do?!"

Mort ran down the stairs, still in shock, to embrace his sobbing lover. He had heard the struggle, and when he ran to the stairs to help her, he watched in horror as she had shot the two men and actually smiled. Smiled and then blew him a kiss. And that's when Zoë had fallen to the floor in hysterics.

"Shhh, Zoë," he whispered, cradling her head to his chest, holding her tight in his arms, "It's fine. It's over. Everything's all right."

"I bet they had children, wives," she croaked out between sobs, "They had family. And I killed them."

"It was Ellie, wasn't it?" Mort murmured into her hair. He was scared as hell himself, but he wouldn't let her know that little fact.

"It doesn't matter. It was my fucking finger that pulled the fucking trigger," she said hysterically, shaking in his hold, "It was me." Mort ran a hand down her face and pressed feather-light kisses to her eyelids, cheeks, and mouth, trying to calm her.

"And you want to know the funny thing about it? I liked it. A part of me liked killing them," she murmured before accepting Mort's lips on hers.

Mort softly pulled her up in his arms to get her feet away from the puddle of blood that had been slowly creeping towards her shoes.

"We have to get out of here," he pointed out, "More police will be on the way, I don't doubt that for a second."

"Thanks for not deserting me," Zoë whispered, her fingers clutching his sweater like she was holding on for dear life.

"I wouldn't desert you, Zoë. Remember that."

"Consider it remembered." And she weakly smiled as he hoisted her to her feet.

"Next stop, your place," Mort reassured her, "And then we'll be out of here, okay? For good."

"What about the bodies?" Zoë said hoarsely, "We can't just leave them there."

Mort and Zoë gazed at each other before glancing down at the pale bodies. They needed a plan.

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Ten minutes later, Mort and Zoë had finished sinking the bodies to the bottom of the lake next to the cabin. It was a bad hiding place, but it would have to do considering time was running out for them both.

Zoë jumped into the passenger's side of Mort's SUV and buckled in while Mort threw the last suitcase into the back. He hurriedly buckled in, started the car, and flew onto the main road with lightning speed.

They sat in silence the first ten minutes of their trip. Zoë could still feel the bile rising in her throat as she desperately tried not to think of the crimes she had just committed. She was a murderer. She was officially a first class loony.

And you should be proud of it, too. Now stop acting like a baby and be proud of what you've done. It shows guts.

No, it shows insanity. It shows that I have a one-way ticket to Hell.

You're such a pessimist.

Zoë closed her eyes and rested her hand on the seat as she held her head with the other. Ellie was giving her a migraine. But where would Mort and her go? What would they do? After this, they'll never be safe again.

She jumped as something touched her, but relaxed when she glanced at Mort. He was concentrating on the road in front of them, and he had gently laid one hand on hers.

Aw, he's such a considerate hunk. Tell him to pull over so you can give him a quickie.

You're sick.

Zoë swallowed and said, "It shouldn't be long."

"Not at all. Don't be nervous. You sure as hell look like you are."

"I have a reason to be. Everyone's after us. We're running out of time and fast."

"We'll get out of here, don't worry, Zoë. Just trust me." He glanced at her, his beautiful brown eyes taking her in, "We can do this."

Of course she trusted him. She was falling in love with the man, after all.

Finally, you admit it to yourself!

Yes. Happy? I love Mort Rainey.

Now tell him. He will be super pleased.

Later. Much later.

The SUV came to a screeching halt at the back entrance of her apartment complex. Mort and Zoë jumped out and she quickly searched through her purse for the key as they ran inside. Someone would surely recognize them. It was only a matter of time before someone did.

Fortunately, the hallways were empty as they reached Zo's apartment except for the one older woman they almost ran into on their way up the stairs. She had given them a suspicious look, shrugged them off, and continued on her way.

Zoë fumbled with the key, cursing under her breath as she jiggled the doorknob. Mort's fingers rested over hers and he helped her turn it. The door clicked open.

Zoë laughed and said, "Can you tell I'm not used to being chased?"

"You just need practice, is all," Mort replied with a grin, following her inside. He shut the door and locked it behind him.

"It won't take me long," Zoë said quietly, "I only need a few things…"

"We have time," Mort said, touching the side of her face, "This stuff means a lot to you. I wouldn't want you accidentally leaving something behind just because you're in a hurry."

"What would I do without you?" she questioned cheekily, taking a step closer to him.

"You'd live a pretty dull life, I'll tell you that much," Mort answered, wiggling his eyebrows at her before wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Well, I have Ellie. She can provide me excitement," Zoë teased, "What else are you good for, hmm? Why should I keep you around?"

Oh! I know! Pick me, pick me!

"I have a pretty good idea," Mort murmured before pressing her against the kitchen wall and crushing his lips onto hers.

"Ahem."

They froze and Mort slowly extracted his tongue from her mouth. Oh no. Zoë knew that voice.

Zoë took a step away from Mort to glance at the man sitting on the couch, watching them with hateful eyes.

She croaked, "Timothy…how…" but was interrupted by him.

"I knew it."

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Getting caught swapping spit with a murderer isn't good. Not good at all! Review please! ; )