The Cain-West clan in hiding. And more news reports of the witch hunt! :D

Chapter Eighteen

Going into Hiding

They'd been driving for awhile now, and though the atmosphere had lightened up with the decision to wed before they left America for good, Dan still did not feel any better. The hell he'd been through, now, was worse than ever when the past came back to haunt them all in newer forms and newer people. The whole town would have heard by now, so for them to be so much as near a motel was still dangerous as hell. But the plan was to make this quick as possible. And that meant for the next few days, one of them would have to head out for little supplies they needed to last before they took off.

This one they came to was farther out of town, along a lonely road devoid of any more housing surroundings and little stores in sight, where nobody cared who you were or simply did not read the papers, but the rooms provided for the guests had TV's for their entertainment – and to stay in touch with the outside world. Herbert pulled them into the driveway and regarded it distastefully. "Okay, guys, I know nobody likes, but it's our best option," Dan said, mostly seeing his son's hesitation. "Come on, buddy, we'll be somewhere better after this." He nodded and mumbled "I know, Daddy" while biting his lip nervously.

Herbert shut off the engine and unbuckled. "Alright, let's go in."

The clerk at the front desk was the only one there, and he looked grouchy as hell when he had been up all day and barely stopped for a break. Seeing the group of five, he didn't so much as manage a smile, not even at the child in his mother's arms as she managed her own baggage. "Well, what can I do for you?" Yep, he's definitely not nice. Dan gulped and stepped forward.

"Um, we'd like a couple rooms for the next few days, and then we're taking off for a new house out of the state," he explained, careful not to make one little mistake.

The man was overweight, hair gray, and his face sallow and unpleasantly lined. "May I ask who gets each one?"

"Uh, me, my wife and the kid get one," Dan answered, gesturing himself and Francesca and Adrian, then to Herbert and Heather, "and these two one."

"That will be two hundred for this night, sir. And promise you won't have that kid screaming and causing trouble?"

Dan bit back his tongue; he was angry the man was so mean to his son, and then Herbert stepped forth and leaned in. "I would be careful using unkind words around a child if I were you, sir." The man was just rising, mouth opening to say words that could get them both back to the car and onto another long, painful drive, but Dan interfered at once.

"Please, forgive him. We best be getting to our rooms for the night. Thanks very much," he said nervously and smiling the same, but the clerk snorted and waved them off, sitting his fat ass back down.

"Just get out of my sight before I kick you all out."

"Maleducato bastardo," Francesca spat over her shoulder before scurrying after them, all of them making it into the hallway safely. "How rude! Talking about my baby that way."

"Okay, but we'll all be okay for now. Adrian, promise me you won't be screaming like he said?" Dan hated being this way towards his son, but he had to make sure that man didn't follow through on his threat. He and his family got room twelve, the bridal pair themselves number fifteen, just across the hall. Everyone bade each other good night before closing the doors for the night, unpacking and settling in.

Dan assumed each room must be the same, for there was only one bed, queen-sized and double-sided, and the bathtub in the same room while there was a wash room to the opposite side. This was going to be tough for Adrian to have a bath since he valued his own self-esteem, as well as the fact he might suffer blindness from seeing both parents naked. "Sweetie, why don't you go wash up and get ready for bed?" Francesca offered; the little boy nodded and set his bag down, opening it to grab his pajamas out and vanishing behind the door. Once he was safely hidden, water running, Francesca turned her eyes on him. She was mad.

"Baby, don't be mad at me..." Dan started, holding both hands up.

"M-mad at you? I'm not mad at you." She huffed and shook her head, storming over to her side of the bed that faced the window and started unpacking. "I'm mad as hell at everything happening. I don't know if this is worse than that night or what, as much as I hate to bring it up again."

He sighed; he hated it when she was this way. It wasn't even his fault now was worse than ever. "Who are you blaming here?"

"West, of course!" Expected that. "And Eric for manipulating and turning his back on us all. And Detective Chapham, daughter of that man! EVERYONE!" she screamed angrily, throwing her arms in the air that Dan had to rush over and take them both in his hands; she struggled against him but stopped when he pulled her close to him.

"Fran, please keep it down before he hears us."

"Damn him then. I'm tired of running. I never go down without a fight, and you know it." She looked up at him, eyes glassy and on the verge of spilling tears. "Is all this stuff about dead bodies and the police after us ever going to stop?"

Dan shook his head. "I don't know, but someday things will be better, I promise, baby. Someday there will be a better world than this full of hypocrites. Adrian deserves a better life than running away. We'll be back here someday when this blows over." He leaned down and kissed her on the lips then. He was more than happy when she returned it and grasped his forearms with her fingernails. The last thing he needed was her rejecting him for one last time.

~o~

Heather fell onto the bed as soon as they were inside; Herbert watched her without a word. She just wanted nothing more than to go to sleep after finding her childhood friend's head in a package, delivered to the Cain house when a child was present. Moreland's audacity to attempt to frighten a little child! Herbert seethed, clenching his fists so hard his knuckles turned white as he watched her lay on her back and stared up at the ceiling, saying nothing to him. He wondered what he could do to calm her down by the slightest. He wanted to comfort her and make her feel a little more safer tonight now that it was just the two of them tonight, in their own room to share.

"Heather..." he started. "I'm terribly sorry about...Bianca." It was a miracle he remembered her name since he'd only met her just today. He wished he could bring her back, but now that the head had been tossed into a garbage bin on the way here and the body nowhere to be found, his brain was out of ideas. He moved over to cover her body with his, not doing anything much besides placing his legs on either side of her waist and straddling her, but their pelvic regions didn't make direct contact. Her eyes widened, but besides that, she didn't move or make a sound. He was taking the lead role for the night because he did not like her in pain, and they both had yet to explore this part of their upcoming marriage. His mind was warning him "Not at a time like this" while his head was moving of its own volition and captured her lips with his own, her sweet lips tasting better than sugar. He was already hungry for more even though his "good man" side was still trying to resist.

To his surprise and relief, Heather's hands came up and cupped his face, massaging his skull and pinching his earlobes, the sensitive skin surging exquisite pleasure and shooting through his brain, igniting the gland that was responsible for regulating the sex drive. Herbert deepened the kiss and slipped his tongue into her warm, wet cavern, clashing and knotting with hers so he could savor more of her. His lungs couldn't take anymore, so he pulled back and gasped for air. "Heather, do you want me anytime soon? I don't want to force you into this..."

She nodded. "I want you, but I want to wait a little longer." Her finger found its way from his face to rest on his bottom lip, tracing it. His tongue darted out to flick at the top of her nail, making her giggle. "But I do want to try something with you."

There was an edge to her voice that he found too irresistible to ignore. "And what is that?" he purred, kissing her fingertip that she withdrew.

"On your back," she ordered.

Herbert laughed when he laid on his back, arms spread out on either side of him when she assumed the position the same way he had, and she kissed him as he'd kissed her, her tongue tasting the inside of his mouth in the exact way he'd done to her, and his scientist's analysis was picking up the results in himself no different than hers. His erection ached against the tightness of his pants, begging to be free. "Ah, Heather!" He jerked his head down to guide her in the direction of his hard-on. "I don't think the little head can wait much longer."

She burst out laughing at his use of that part of the man's body. "I thought the 'prim and proper' Dr. West wouldn't use such a colorful term for the most sacred part of his body."

"I'm not exactly prim and proper, as you know," he reminded her, mouth twitching to fight back a grin. "Now, are you going to ask me anymore questions or get to what you're doing to me now?"

He watched as Heather made one of the boldest moves he'd ever witnessed in his years: grabbing his legs and spreading them slightly so she had room to shift her body, moving down south of his body and stopping at his belt and zipper. She unfastened his belt painfully slow, forcing him to let out a groan and shift his hips upwards; he wasn't a man to plead verbally. Heather finished the zipper and grabbed the waistline of his pants and underwear; he raised his hips up to help her. She pulled the garments down, but not all the way, just enough to expose the beginning line of the dark hairs around the base of his member. His breath quickened at an erratic pace, his heartbeat picking up when more of him was revealed until his erection was fully exposed, the head glistening wet. His face was heated with embarrassment, which soon ended when he nearly jolted out of his skin as she started from the sensitive juncture of his thighs and moved for his length then, her tongue darting out to snake around the pillar, ending at the head. Herbert was shocked at the boldness, but it still felt so good – too good for words. His blood pumped intensely when she reached then to cup his harder-than-usual member. Nails massaged his muscles in time with her lips, kissing and nibbling each side of his whole masculine package.

Herbert's body shook with tremors of pleasure at his first time getting oral pleasure from his bride-to-be – his first love and his last – and he couldn't help but gasp out, "Heather, d-don't stop –" She moaned deliciously in response, but his climax never reached its peak as there was an abrupt knock on the door, making her shriek and graze her teeth on his length, a mild jolt of pain through him if not as great as his frustration at being interrupted. Heather hurried for the door just as Herbert was struggling to get his pants back over his still-swollen erection which hadn't even been relieved. Damn whoever is at the door! he swore to himself, before he heard Francesca's voice.

"Herbert, Heather! Turn on the TV!" she cried, pushing her way inside, stalking over to the nightstand facing her and picking up the remote, flicking the power button in the direction of the television where the news station was on.

"More news on the case of Doctors Herbert West and Heather Phillips, the latter of whom has vanished out of the blue presumably after learning she is now wanted, and it appears she is officially in league with the mad scientist after the release of a videotape, the fingerprints of the owner never found, but the contents showed are proof of these allegations, including the truth about the missing Dr. Leslie Coburn of Boston General Hospital. Dr. Coburn vanished earlier in the week about the same time as the celebrated surgeon Dr. Eric Moreland, Coburn's colleague and ex-husband. Dr. Daniel Cain and Dr. Phillips were the last to see them both. And now we have videotaped footage detailing an official look into one of Dr. Herbert West's grotesque, supposed re-animation experiments of the dead."

Previously said footage detailed everything about him and Heather in the morgue – Herbert remembered every vivid detail better than photographic memory – at work on Leslie Coburn's corpse, successfully reviving her even though he knew these fools would not see it that way, but it ended before she could have her first words of life, and before it could be revealed that Eric Moreland was her killer and the culprit. Fool was smart enough to stop at that. Damn him! Heather buried her face in both hands as the reporter continued. "While it seems clear that these re-animation experiments are indeed possible, there is no way the AMA and the government will ever allow these unauthorized criminal acts against God and mankind, also in accordance to rising protestors. And as of now, the two beloved physicians of the general hospital are still searched for, and the three rogue doctors, as well as Cain's family – wife Francesca Cain and five-year-old son Adrian Howard – are all being purged by the police so they will face our justice."

~o~

Face "their" justice? Jesus Christ, is this medieval times?! Francesca spat to herself as she waited in line with the cart of groceries in front of her, having gone by herself early that morning to pick everyone up some food for the next five days; with the new plan to marry in two days now, that meant she would have had to cancel the plans at the courthouse now that word was out about the truth. This was just too dangerous for all of them to go there and then to a party where it would be the end of them; the police would surely be waiting for them inside there.

She was in a flirty red lace top, black leggings stopping at the knees and matching flats, her hair clipped behind her head and finally sunglasses to cover her eyes since she couldn't risk her identity seen, but she couldn't use her credit card, either. But the price of all of this was going to be worth it for those she cared about. Her family and friends came first.

But at the same time, I don't think we can live like this. Being on the run. Our family did nothing wrong; we're just mixed up on the wrong side.

She shook her head and rubbed her forehead. What was she thinking? Heather wasn't a bad woman, and West wasn't either, at least in his own way. All her life, Francesca had never thought herself uninvolved with the negative side of life. Her innocence died when her mother passed away giving birth to her, when she grew up with a strict father in Florence until she got into university and relocated to Argentina for her career, going onto various battlefields and exposed to death and gore, lives lost, and so many casualties...and so many other things that no human tongue would ever speak of to another. That included everything she'd witnessed of the re-animation of the dead...as well as the released video footage of Herbert and Heather bringing Leslie Coburn back, and now she was a believer, but that did not mean she wanted a part of that either. She wanted to keep her family safe.

She'd left Dan twice in a row before; once when she saw what West did to Angel after Chapham killed him. She'd called Dan a freak for it, but that was because of the story she heard about what happened to his girlfriend before her, Meg. After she'd taken off, Francesca immediately regretted it because she knew, deep down, he had a great heart given she'd known him in Peru. He'd been through a load as she had. The same went after Herbert's trial when she'd left to clear her head off back in South America, only to find things were not – and never would be – the same without him. Francesca Danelli had her share of short-lived romances since Spanish-speaking men wanted one thing, given the heat got not only to their big heads but to the littler ones, and sex was not the only thing she'd wanted in a relationship. And Daniel had been so wonderful to her, so that was why she loved him moreso now and was proud to have a beautiful little boy with him.

By the time she reached her turn at the register and started putting her groceries up to be checked out, her eyes, still covered by sunglasses, landed on the most horrifying headline that had made its way as the newest addition to the Boston news: REWARD ISSUED FOR THE ARREST OF DOCTORS HERBERT WEST, DANIEL CAIN AND HEATHER PHILLIPS.

"Ma'am? Credit or cash?"

Francesca snapped back to life at the voice of the cashier. "Uh...cash." She pulled her wallet out of her purse just before she grabbed the newspaper. "And add in this, too." They can't miss this at all.

~o~

This paper was the final straw to Heather's cracking mind. Francesca got it for them, but Herbert was not the least bit surprised even though his face bordered on over-the-top anger he was unable to control now; she feared he would lose control and smash something like Dan was known to do once in a while. Dan himself was just as furious, and he collapsed on the foot of the bed with little Adrian at his feet. "Goddamn bitch," Herbert snarled, clenching his fists.

"You said a bad word," Adrian accused, pointing the finger at him. Herbert glared at him but said nothing, instead continued to pace back and forth in the room, on the verge of losing his temper, and Heather knew she had to act fast before he ultimately lost it in front of the child and his parents. Handing the paper back to Francesca, she grabbed Herbert's arm and began to lead him out the door for them to head back to their room not before hearing Francesca call her back.

"Heather, please, we have to get away from here soon. The longer we are here, the worse it gets."

"I know." She nodded. The longer we're here, the worse my sanity is faltering. She could feel her mind going crazy without an exact description each moment that passed. I think maybe I was right back at the prison; what was I thinking, getting involved? Everything I've come to love, everything I worked so hard for...ruined. I'm a fugitive now, and so is Dan, and look at his family. It should be just me and Herbert, not them in on this. They've been through enough, but this is my fault. I chose to work at the prison, I kept that last syringe of re-agent and brought it back to its owner...look what it all led to.

She avoided Herbert and instead went into the washroom, slamming the door behind her and turning the hot water on, screaming and crying at the same time, wanting to burn all her face off but knew, deep down, it might melt the flesh away and show red sinew and muscle; she would still live and be a walking red-faced zombie like those she and Herbert re-animated. Nothing would take the pain away.

~o~

He knew the pressure was getting to his fiancée, but for her to just ignore him and run into the washroom like that and slam the door – he didn't hear the lock click, but he heard water running from the sink as well as saw steam coming out from under the door, and his protective side kicked in. He quickly opened the door and saw Heather trying to burn her face with hot water. "Damn it, Heather!" he shouted, dashing over and pulling her away, turning the dial to cold. She didn't fight him, just pulled away from him and walked back to the bed.

Her face was red as a tomato, and if another moment passed, she would have been peeling like one. Herbert shook his head as he grabbed a rag from the rod on the wall and wet it under the water, bringing it over to her and taking her face into one hand as he gently swiped her face with the other. "What was the meaning of that?" he demanded, catching a blank face.

She didn't answer him right away, but he would gladly wait as long as it took. "I don't think I can do this," she said at last.

He raised an eyebrow; inside, he knew precisely what she was talking about. "We'll be fine, love," he assured her, allowing his fingers to slip past the rag and touch her cooling cheek. She flinched and jerked her face away from him as though he burned her. His heart broke.

"How will we be fine when we're always on the run?"

"We won't always be on the run," he promised her, sure he would keep that promise. Why was she like this now, when they were leaving the country in a few days and getting married soon, just before then? "Heather, don't be like Daniel used to be. Please, I beg you." She said nothing, nor did she look at him. "Heather, please, look at me." He spoke forcefully, glad it worked. Now she was looking up at him and tightened her lips in a firm line. She didn't look exactly like him, but her expression mirrored the one he always put on for others to see.

"I had quite the life ahead of me, and I always dreamed of stopping death, seeing a wonderful world without death, but look at us: on the run, dealing with dead bodies without permission, and getting other people killed because of us. And now we're rushing into a marriage so soon. I should have left you when I got you out of that place when I had the chance."

Herbert's heart was breaking into a million pieces and was now on the verge of shattering. He knew what she was feeling, but none of that stopped them before, so why stop now? He took her face in his hands again and leaned in to silence her with a kiss. "Heather Phillips, enough. You told me once I was all you have left, so do you really mean that? Did you really mean it when you called my experiments sick the first time until time passed and you grew to it? We came this far to turn back now. If you leave me now, you'll be charged and sentenced to life in prison. However, if you're found innocent, you'll still be let off the hook but no better when you lose your medical license and banned from every hospital, working among the lowest of classes, casted out like a leper. What would you have to live for then if you lose all else you loved left? That includes Daniel, Francesca, Adrian...and above all, myself."

He saw that he got to her; he knew he would because he knew he was right. "But...Bianca..." she managed, a tear rolling down her cheek.

He rubbed it away with a finger that made its way there. "She was a great girl; she didn't deserve it. Once we find Moreland, you can find it in you to make him pay dearly for it," he swore. "But for now, we carry on with the wedding – but only if you're ready." He already knew the answer long before she answered.

"I want to marry you, Herbert. I do love you, and I didn't really mean anything," she blubbered, "but I'm just so scared." Heather leaned into his chest, clutching at his sleeves. "I wish everything was different."

Herbert sighed and shook his head. "My dear, if things were different and my record was clean, I still wouldn't have been taken seriously. Neither would you and Dan."

Yeah, life's hard - LOVE is hard. Oooh, the gang is in deeper, hotter water now! Up next: a perfect wedding ends in disaster.

Francesca's Italian phrase translates to "rude bastard"; my Italian is pretty limited, but that's none I know.