Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 79599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“Turn here,” I said, pointing to the slightly wider road hidden behind an overgrown bush. Bear turned the wheel and the truck jumped and swayed from side to side as it navigated the bumpier cut through the road that led into town. “And don’t call me crazy,” I added, crossing my arms over my chest.
“I take back ever thinking that you were mature for eighteen, because right now you’re pouting like a little kid,” Bear said as we passed the first sign that we’d reached the edge of town, Margie’s Used Appliance Warehouse which was more junk yard than warehouse.
“Am not,” I argued, looking straight ahead. “You can park there.” I pointed to the empty street in front of the Stop-N-Shop.
“Logan’s Beach isn’t exactly a big city, but this place is like a ghost town.” Bear turned off the truck and got out. I did the same and when I hopped down he’d already met me on my side.
“Yeah, ever since they closed the exit of the highway the only people left here are farmers, and more and more of those are disappearing, abandoning their farms and moving where the work is.” I shielded my eyes from the sun and looked around. Two trucks and a John Deere were parked across the street in front of Mickey’s Bait Shop and Bar. Two bicycles were tied up on the post in front of the Tick-Tock Cafe. “Looks pretty busy to me,” I added.
Bear looked around again like he was missing something. “The hardware store has an auto section,” I said, heading into the store. “Mostly parts for fixing trucks, but you might luck out and find what you need there,” I said, pointing over to Handy Hardware and Feed Store.
“Catch,” Bear said, tossing something at me that I caught before it hit the ground.
“Why?” I asked, staring down at the silver skull with the diamond eye that had been in my possession for a large part of my life. “It’s not mine.”
“Just hang onto it for me. I’ll call you when I’m done,” Bear said. “Be quick and keep your eyes open just in case.”
I rolled my eyes, squeezing my palm around the ring. I put the chain back around my neck and its familiar weight was more comforting than any hug could ever be. I nodded, heading toward the door. “Ti, I need your number.” Bear pulled a cell phone out of his front pocket.
“I don’t have a phone.”
“If you don’t have a phone then why did you just agree that I should call you when I’m done?”
“The old fashion way.” I cupped my hands around my mouth and shouted, “THEEEEEEEEYYYYYAAAAAAAA!” I pushed open the glass doors and left Bear laughing in the middle of the road.
* * *
Bear
“You lost?” The guy behind the counter at the hardware store asked. He wore overalls without a shirt underneath, the jean material stretching over his protruding stomach.
Lost? Maybe slowly finding my way.
He looked me over, his eyes stopping on the tattoo on my good shoulder. The skull symbol of the Beach Bastards. “I don’t want no trouble,” The man said, holding up his hands like I was robbing him.
“Put your hands down, man. I’m not looking for trouble today,” I said.
“Don’t look like you’re avoiding trouble,” he said pointing to my freshly stitched up injury.
“That ain’t none of your concern, but I meant it when I said I wasn’t looking for trouble.”
I had trouble. Plenty of it in the form of a pink haired girl with so much attitude it made me crazy.
And hard.
Crazy fucking hard.
The man nodded. “Been a while since The Bastards have been through these parts. I just want to let you know that nothing’s changed. I’m still waving my white flag. I’m still inactive.”
“Inactive?” I asked. He turned around and pointed to the huge wolf symbol on his back, clearly recognizable to me as the symbol of the WOLF WARRIORS even though parts of it were covered up with the straps from his overalls. Chop had started a fight with the Warriors years ago about gun running from Miami, I didn’t know the specifics of the fight, all I knew is that Chop said we were at war so we were at war, and I’d put my share of WOLF WARRIORS to ground.
“They called me Bones back in the day, but now I just go by Ted.” The man turned back around.
“You don’t have anything to worry about. I’m kind of between MC’s myself at the moment,” I joked, pulling at the collar of the shirt I was going to take off the second I got back in the truck, because while wearing my cut used to be like wrapping myself in soft leather, the simple tank felt like it was strangling me.
Ted nodded, visibly relaxing when he finally got it through his head that what I wasn’t looking to stir up a decades old war between old men over something I didn’t give a shit about.
“What can I do you for?” he asked with a smile, flipping off Biker Bones and flipping on Toolman Ted.
I looked around the small store but didn’t see anything I could use at first glance in the tiny three shelves of auto parts. “I don’t suppose you got a bike section in here. I’m in need of some parts.” I glanced out the door and spotted Thia in the store across the street, filling a red basket.
Ted shook his head. “Ain’t got no bike parts on the shelves but I might be able to do you one better.” He ducked under the counter and walked over to a door that was covered with keys on little hooks. I didn’t even realize it was a door until he turned the knob and opened it. Ted stepped aside and waved me over. I almost fell over after seeing what was on the other side.
It was a graveyard.
A bike graveyard.
“The Mrs. don’t want me to have nothing to do with bikes since I left the Warriors, so she made me move all this from the house. She thinks I threw it all away.” Hundreds of feet of bikes in different stages of rust and rot. Parts hung from the ceiling and off the walls. A small footpath had been cleared on the floor but other than that it was pieces and parts stacked on top of one another.