Page 25 of Road Rash

10

Old Man

The deputy tore out of the room as soon as Doc gave us the description of Slim’s bike. Now I’m fucking back to finding her on my own. Or am I?

I break out full sprint back to the bar. The door slams against the back wall straining the capacity of the hinges. Frantically I search for the men I need to speak to.

While I’m looking, a call comes in from Slim’s number. I connect and put the phone to my ear but don’t say anything. It’s either going to be Slim making a demand or please God, make it Jonesie. I hear “take old route 94” and realize it’s neither. It’s an AI voice giving some sort of directions. It can only be because of Jonesie.

Fuck searching.

I make sure to mute the connection before calling out, “Rex,” to the Brimstone Lords’ president. “Need you and your men. Mad Man,” I call out next to the Outcast’s president. “Need you too. Jonesie’s in trouble.”

You’ve never seen men gather so fast. Once they’re all assembled, I tell them, “It’s Slim.”

“The poser?” Mad Man asks. “He was just helping clean up the Horde mess—fuck!”

“He’s an addict. He killed the old timer. He tried to take out Drake, Brandi and Jonesie to get rid of witnesses.”

With the group assembled I put the phone back up to my ear and basically all I hear is the wind whipping over the cell or it might be his movements, rustling and the rumble of pipes. He’s got her on a bike? A head injury patient?

I cover my mouth with my hand to stifle the laugh that no one here would realize is because I’m a fucking idiot not because I find any of this funny.

“She’s leading him up old route ninety-four.”

“What’s there?” Specter asks.

“Fuck if I know.” I tap the map app and type in Old Route 94. As I pull the image back, tracing the road, it hits me. The town of Little River. Drake and Brandi have a cabin outside Little River.

Why would she be leading him there?

“They might be heading for Drake’s cabin.”

“If yer wrong it means her life,” Rex barks. As if I don’t fucking know that.

“Even if I’m right it’s her life,” I fire back.

“Tensions’re high—let’s keep it together,” Mad Man argues.

“It’s Jonesie,” Rex barks again and shit, I think he’s got feelings for my woman. Rex ain’t a man who does relationships. He’d never give her what she needs. And it don’t matter. She’s in love with me.

“Calm the fuck down, Rex,” Mad Man commands. “This isn’t helping. Old Man, you sure?”

“I’m not sure of a damn thing but it’s the best lead we have.” Then, turning to the bar, I call out to my number two. “Clyde.”

He nods then shouts, “Go!”

I don’t hesitate a moment longer, taking off in—swear to god—a dead run out the front door to where my truck sits parked. I’m so tweaked that I drop the damn keys on the ground. Seconds searching for them in the dark that I don’t have. That Jonesie don’t have. They bounced partially under my truck. Once I get my hand wrapped around them, I’m in the vehicle backing out before I even see the brothers mounting their bikes in my rearview mirror, and I drop the truck into drive spinning my wheels and squealing down the street in the direction of Old Route 94.

“Find me the fastest route to Little River,” I speak clearly into my phone because there’re shorter ways to the cabin than taking Old Route 94.

She’s fucking brilliant taking him that way.

If we’re lucky we’ll get there before them. If not before at the same time would work. And because I’ve got a one-track mind, I press harder on the accelerator going way faster than safe at this time of night. It’s stupid. The men following me on bikes have to go faster to keep up with me. They’ve got no idea where I’m headed.

Two seconds, swear to God, I only pull my eyes from the road for two seconds to check on the men in my rearview mirror. When I bring my eyes back to the road, I slam on the brakes, skidding, swerving the front wheels from side to side, leaving a trail of tire tread on the asphalt before spinning out completely to avoid the fucking deer that jumped out in front of me.

The bikes behind me swerve. Mad Man almost lays his bike down trying to avoid crashing into the back wheel of my truck.

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