A few hours later and many miles south, Wendy and Irene were laughing at the corny puns and bad transitions during the local news report of wherever the hell they were. Irene was running her fingers through Wendy’s hair, braiding and unbraiding it mindlessly, and Wendy was trying her best not to touch the suspiciously sticky motel TV remote on the edge of the bed.

Wendy was still grinning stupidly when a cheesy jingle played and screen flashed to a red and white background. “Breaking news,” Wendy read around, smile never leaving her face. She tilted her head back into Irene’s lap, looking up to meet her eyes. “Bets it’s us?”

Irene’s one-sided smirk only showed a tiny glint of teeth, and Wendy would’ve smiled wider, if she could. “It’s been days, I’m old news now,” she shot back. “My bet is it’s you.”

Wendy laughed, turning her focus back to the screen. “Doubt it. No one’s seen a criminal as pretty as you,” she said, over immediate protests ofshut up, Seungwan-ah, and more gentle laughter.

The screen used a tacky slideshow transition to a talking reporter and a disgruntled man, and, “See! It’s that old man, this one’s all you!” Irene exclaimed.

They both missed the description of the crime and suspect, but they watched as he stared directly into the camera, pointing his finger at the lens like a stern parent. “I hope you know that you’re just a dirty, petty thief,” the man spat. A slightly out-of-focus reporter shifted uncomfortably in the background.

Wendy grinned at Irene again, her eyes twinkling. “I’m just good with my hands,” she corrected, throwing a wink back at Irene--who, in response, scowled, and pushed Wendy’s head off her lap. “Come on, I really think I have a knack for this!”

Sitting back, Irene snorted. “What, sleeping with strangers?”

“No,” she explained, smugly, “almost sleeping with strangers, and then taking their money instead. This is great!”

“So you’ve found your calling? Miss Seductress Son Seungwan, wanted for assault and robbery in three states?”

Wendy jutted out her bottom lip, shrugging a shoulder. She tossed her arms out against the bed, taking up as much room as possible with her small stature. “It’s larceny, not robbery, which has a nicer ring to it anyway, doesn’t it? And what about you? Irene, the beautiful felon, criminal mastermind?” Her smile slipped, but she couldn’t stop the rest of the words from tumbling out of . “Bae Joohyun, wanted for murder?”

The television chattered on beside them, neither of them still watching the local reporter ramble on about where and how to call in with anonymous tips. “It’s not really funny, is it?”

“Not really,” Wendy agreed, “it’s not.”

Against the creaking frame of the bed, Irene still had a smile on her face, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I don’t think I recognize who we are anymore.”

“Maybe this is who we’ve could have been, if things had been different,” and Irene thought that Wendy wasn’t talking about the police or murder at all, given the context.

Her hands found their way back into Wendy’s hair, fingers automatically running through the locks like they were made to do that, and nothing else. “Maybe,” Irene echoed, because maybe she wasn’t talking about the police or murder, either.

Irene had countless questions coming and going through her mind for each mile they drove through; some of them getting answers, most of them not. Her focus became narrow, encompassing two things: continuing to move, because running was all she knew, now; and two, Son Seungwan. This country had become a ball and chain, and the longer they drove, the more Wendy kept her from falling completely to insanity, or worse—giving up the chase.

They needed to know whether the authorities were hot on their heels, or if they had finally led them astray—and so Irene did something she knew she was good at. She took a gamble.

“Put me through to Kang Seulgi.”

The operator had a slight southern accent, presenting itself almost comically through the tinny quality of the payphone. “Excuse me--”

She sighed. “It’s Bae Joohyun. Put me through to Kang Seulgi.” With a roll of her eyes, and added, “If you wouldn’t mind.”

The operator was pointedly silent for a second before saying, “Right. Sure thing. One moment, please,” as if it were any other regular call to the police station back home. The telephone box was uncomfortably warm, some surprisingly insulatory quality to the cracked glass panes, and looked like it hadn’t been used in years--frankly, maybe it hadn’t. A week ago, Irene might have cared about putting the dusty, rusted phone to her ear.

“Joohyun,” crackled Seulgi’s voice, surprise evident. She sounded genuinely surprised, and Irene found some joy in that. “Where are you two?”

Irene put her free hand up to shield her eyes from the sun, squinting at the barren red rock landscape, a desert without an oasis. A grin, and, “Sure is snowy out here. Are we on a first-name basis now? Can I call you Seulgi?”

“You’re not charged with murder yet,” Seulgi said instead, and she sounded--concerned? “Running makes you look worse. It’s--well, you know. It’s difficult, like that. Now you’re armed and dangerous, and the protocol for taking you in is entirely different. If you hadn’t done anything, why are you running?”

Irene shook her head, as if Seulgi could see her through the phone. “You’re going to put me in front of a crowd of people who don’t understand, and someone will be saying things like ‘lifetime in prison,’ and ‘without parole…’”

“Please, Joohyun. I don’t want to let anyone use force on you and Seungwan. Come back. We can talk about this.”

Seulgi was good at avoiding the words, but Joohyun knew what she was getting at. “Officer, with all due respect, if you’re asking me whether I’d rather be caught dead or alive, really, I...” She swallowed thickly, glancing through the dirty glass to the humble storefront. It must have been the only mart in this tiny town. Wendy stood, waving back at a small child who had run ahead of his parents. As if she felt Irene’s eyes on her, she met the gaze with her hand still half in the air, raising her brows with a questioning smile.

“I don’t know,” Irene said, softly. “I’ll have to get back to you on that.”

To her credit, Seulgi said nothing for a few moments, the line rustling as Irene shifted positions. “It doesn’t have to be like this,” came Seulgi’s tone, gentler and kinder than before. “Joohyun--”

Irene hung up the phone.

“Hey,” came Wendy’s voice on another nondescript highway as she turned down the radio volume. “Think those are for us?”

Irene’s eyes followed to where Wendy pointed, a trio of police cars headed in the opposite direction down the road. The sirens were on, though, and whatever the call was, it needed three cops.

“They’re going the wrong way if they are,” she said, antsy at the blue and red nonetheless. “Still, let’s pull off the road.”

“Just in case,” Wendy agreed, and Irene braced herself for the jolt of leaving the asphalt and hitting dirt. “I’ve been thinking,” Wendy added, one hand on the gear shift, the other resting on the steering wheel.

Irene raised her brows in the silence that followed. The car went up a small ridge and over it, and Wendy aligned the car to continue to run parallel to the highway. “Well, congratulations.”

She wasn’t looking, but she was certain an eye roll was offered as a response. “No, I’ve really been thinking--we could be good at this stuff, you know?”

The sun visor wasn’t long enough to block the sun from Irene’s eyes, but she slipped off her sunglasses anyway. “What?”

“Living on the road like this. On the run. It’s crazy, I know, but this is the most free I think I’ve felt in a long time. Maybe ever.”

Irene--for her part--hadn’t given much thought to this impenetrable ‘future.’ Frankly, she hadn’t much planned on seeing it.

“If you’re just saying this to make me feel better about shooting a man in the parking lot of a bar, don’t. None of this was your fault,” Irene sighed, words rattling on for the umpteenth time. “It never was your fault.”

“I’m absolutely serious this time, Joohyun. Haven’t you wondered what happens? If we make it?”

“If --if we make it, Seungwan.” It was hot out, she was tired, and Irene knew this conversation was bound to happen eventually. They might as well have it now. She turned in her seat to face Wendy. “You have something to go back to. A husband. A home. A life.”

“A loveless marriage I can’t escape, and a house literally falling apart at the cracks,” Wendy laughed, acid on her tongue. “Maybe you’ve never felt so trapped like that. You’ve always known what you’ve wanted, I guess.”

Irene was taken aback by the sharpness.

Wendy was blinking rapidly, eyes glued forward. “All this time, and you’ve had no idea?”

“Seungwan, you can’t throw away your life for—this,” she said, a hint of desperation creeping in. For me , she had almost let slip, and god, was there irony in the fact that they still held secrets from each other.

Wendy let the car roll to a slow stop in the middle of nowhere, red sand and dust kicking up around the tires. The sun blazed down on them, flat, barren earth stretching ahead and behind them for miles on end. There wasn’t another sign of life in sight.

“Years,” Wendy said. constricted, and she squeezed her eyes shut. “I’ve--I’ve been in love with you for years, Joohyun, you know. Maybe you don’t know. Maybe you’re horrified by that. Or maybe you’ve known all this time, and maybe we could—maybe we can make it work. I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore. I feel like I’ve thought about this for a lifetime, and yet the only thing I know for sure is that I’m not throwing away my life if it’s with you.”

“Seungwan,” Irene started, but her voice caught in .

“Don’t tell me it’ll be okay. Just… don’t.” Wendy let out a long breath, wiping a smudge of dirt off her cheek with the back of her hand. A gentle breeze picked up, and it was almost comedic that a tumbleweed blew across the road. “Okay, that was the fun emotional breakdown of the day. Great, we can check that off the to-do list. We should keep moving,” she said into the silence, hand on the gearshift again.

“Wait,” Irene murmured, haltingly wetting her handkerchief with one of their water bottles, pulling Wendy’s chin toward her with one hand.

“Please don’t,” Wendy whispered, closing her eyes. She took a jagged breath when the cloth touched her cheek, and Irene could hear a heart break, but she couldn’t have said whose it was. “Joohyu—”

Irene leaned forward and closed the gap between them, letting the seatbelt dig into her shoulder as she kissed Wendy the way she had never let herself think about. One hand still clutched the damp cloth against Wendy’s cheek, the other pulling her in.

It would have been easier to pull away, apologize for her sudden, reckless action, pretend it never happened—if Wendy wasn’t kissing her back the way that she was.

“You couldn’t have done that years ago?” Wendy murmured against her lips when they parted, and Irene choked out a laugh to stop her tears from escaping.

It was exhilarating and wonderful and heart-wrenching and terrifying all at once, and it was full of whys and whens, and what-ifs and what-nows.

“You’re right,” Irene finally echoed, a little breathless and a lot reeling at the implications. Her heart was beating so fast, she could feel it in her fingertips. So much for uncomplicated. “We should keep driving.”

Silently, Wendy wiped one of Irene’s stray tears away, and put the car back into drive.

When the ground inclined for the first time in what felt like centuries and their car began to climb the one hill for miles, Irene swore.

Wendy had already been looking at Irene--and she had been, for a while--and she followed her eyes to the rearview mirror. And then she swore, too.

“Now those are for us,” Irene murmured, five pairs of headlights right under a sea of red and blue, and approaching, quickly. “What do you think?”

Wendy said her words slowly, savoring them, in case they were the last thing she ever said. “I think we’re about to go on a high-speed chase, Joohyun.”

“I love the way you think,” Irene said, shifting to a higher gear.

And Wendy replied, far more chipper than the scene asked of her, “As if that’s the only thing you love about me,” because at this point, what did she have to lose but her life?

“That’s true,” Irene conceded, foot laying down steadily on the acceleration. “There’s a lot to love about you.”

“Why didn’t we have this conversation hours ago, when there wasn’t an imminent danger and five cops trailing us?” Wendy was yelling at this point, voice barely heard over the sound of the engine.

Irene let herself grin a little, shouting back. “Think Seulgi’s gonna buy our cheap love story?” The speedometer was far into the red zone, and the road hadn’t been paved over in decades. Wendy could hear the sirens getting louder, the multiple sirens turning into a drone as they got out of sync.
“Not cheap if it’s true,” Wendy pointed out, grabbing the door to brace herself. “Hey,” she continued, still shouting. “Do you think we’ve totally lost it?”

Irene’s grin was full-blown at this point. “Absolutely,” she said, gunning it down the seemingly infinite road ahead.

Seulgi was a good distance behind the five cars, with Henry in her passenger seat. She was shaking her head, one hand on her radio button. “We can make this work! They listen to me--”

Henry scowled. He slammed his hand against the dash. “No, Captain, you trust them. That’s the problem! Innocent people don’t drive like that!” His hand had long since left the holster on his side, and instead, held onto the rifle strapped across his chest.

“Lau, I don’t want them dead, I want them in custody. They don’t deserve a felony for this.”

Beside her, Henry was in disbelief. Had the Captain forgotten her brain this morning? “No? Murder does not a criminal make? We don’t have time for this! We have five cars on them and they don’t really look like they’re taking a pit stop anytime soon!”

“You’ll do as I say, Lau. You are not to engage fire.” Pressing the button on her radio, she repeated the command. “You are not to engage fire, do you hear me?”

“Would you rather have them dead or free?” Henry hissed, watching the speed of the chase increase down the straight highway. His brows shot up in the ensuing silence. “Captain, have you lost your mind?”

“Maybe,” she said simply.

“Getting kinda tired of this!” Wendy called out, throwing another glance behind them. The cars had gathered into a formation--one car spearheading the chase, and two pairs behind it. Irene had taken a sharp exit right, hoping to get at least one to fall off their tail, to no avail.

Suddenly, she was braking, and Wendy was thrown forward. “Jooyhun, what the --”

“Are you with me?” Irene asked, voice seeming suddenly very quiet without the roar of the tires. The police cars had pulled around them, forming a large, distant semicircle. A sixth vehicle pulled up in the middle, and the driver’s door was opening. Wendy glanced ahead. There was a deep chasm between the platform they were on and the next, a red archway on the other side.  

Could we make that jump? Perhaps. Wendy’s hand found Irene’s. Perhaps not. “Always.”

So Irene slammed the gas pedal, watching red dust kick up behind them as the wheels spun for a second. The car shot forward. “Well, say a prayer,” was the only thing Irene said, right before the tires left the ground. Wendy half expected that to be the last thing she heard, but--a second of tires spinning against only air, a bone-rattling jolt a moment later, and she opened her eyes just in time to see the archway pass above them without a scratch.

A look behind them showed nothing for a few seconds--and then there was that metal screech she had expected to hear. And then one of the police cars had shoved itself against the red rock, and there was canyon on either side for miles. Wendy looked up at the platform, now above them, the Captain and Sergeant watching them with folded arms. Seulgi was shaking her head, and she was already turning around before Wendy looked away.

And, well, Irene just kept driving across the narrow strait ahead, with a disbelieving Wendy in the passenger seat. “Did we just…?”

Irene’s brows raised, visible above the rim of her sunglasses. “Seungwan, I think we may have just made it.”

The day Seulgi received a postcard in the mail, well--she wished she could have said she was sorry about the whole situation. Instead, she let out a long, heavy sigh, already imagining the absolute hoot two bartenders across town were going to have when she showed them the card.

Hola from Mexico!

Love, Irene and Wendy