it didn’t even hurt much”. I started to turn back but Brad put a hand on my
shoulder, “Spea king of not hurting much; what’s your threshold to pain”? I
wasn’t sure where he was going with this but I asked, “What do you mean”? Brad
replied, “I can get this out, but I’ll need your assistance, and by that I mean you
will need to focus your power on yourself to mentally block the pain until I’m
done”.
“I don’t’ mean to sound like I doubt your skills as a surgeon, but have you
done anything like this before”? A quick moment of silence before Brad
responded, “Once, on Vargas, he had the same type of wound except it was on his
sizable butt”. Miles and Gary had a loud chuckle going in the front seat from that
remark.
“Gary, hand me the kit in the glove box, and Miles, pull off the next road coming up”. Gary gave me a sly grin as he handed Brad the first aid kit. Gary had long blonde hair that he kept in a ponytail and his square jaw gave him a rugged look of one who could handle himself in a fight. On the other hand Miles looked rail thin and his shaved head did nothing for him except accentuate his thinness.
The Impala slowed down as I saw a sign for Proposal Rock Park. Okay guys
we just met, I’m not ready for that type of commitment yet. As per Brads request
Miles pulled off of Highway 101 at the first available area to stop at. The Park was desolate, so finding privacy was the easy part. Miles parked in a spot as far from the beach entrance as he could in case we encountered some beach folk, we would be far enough away that they wouldn’t be able to see anything.
The Impala’s engine came to quick halt. Miles put the shifter in park and turned towards the backseat to observe Brad’s impromptu operation. As Brad was digging through the first aid kit he reminded me, “Focus on blocking the pain,
this should only take a couple of seconds, and whatever you do, don’t get pissed,
because we read about how when you get angry- people fry”.
Not even eighteen yet and my reputation precedes me, “I promise not to get pissed”. Brad acknowledged with a nod before adding, “Smart thing to dye your hair, you were way too easy to spot otherwise. Now pull your left arm out of your shirt and we’ll get going, and remember focus”. My turn for a nod to let him know I was ready. I started thinking about when Detective Hargrove had his hands around my throat at the Hospital. I had so much built up electricity running through my body at the time; I couldn’t even feel him doing it. I put my focus on that, and while I was starting to think about it Brad said, “All done, here look at this little son of a bitch”. I put my arm back into my shirt and turned around as
Brad held out the culprit.
I was amazed, as the thing he pulled out of my shoulder looks smaller than
a Bee-bee. Brad held out the tracking device and dropped it in my hand. “This
was by far more pleasurable than pulling one of these things out of Vargas’s ass”.
I’ll take a compliment any where I can get it, and since I didn’t fry Brad, I guess it
was sincere.
“This little shit is a tracking device”? I heard him say it, but it almost seemed
too small to work worth a damn. Brad smiled and replied, “It is indeed and now
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we need to find a good spot to lose this thing. As if on cue, a Parks and Rec. truck
pulled into the parking lot and parked by the two trash cans across the lot.
“Gimme”, Brad demanded, referring to the tracking device. I obliged his
request as he got out of the Impala with an empty bottle of water that was on the floor of the car and made his way to the trash cans. Great Idea, toss it in the trash and the Parks guy will toss the bag into the back of his truck; Brilliant.
Brad’s short dark hair and his raccoon eyes might give one question to trust
him. His appearance would suggest that he was a crack head. Brad had a scrawny build and a bit of acne, though I guessed it stemmed from the fact that he wasn’t
much older than me. He must have the gift of gab though as he went up to one of the trash cans and tossed the water bottle and our little friend inside, just as the Park’s guy was twist tying the bag from the second trash can. Brad struck up a conversation and you could see t he Parks guy smile immediately as they continued exchanging pleasantries while Brad was waiting for him to secure the second bag from the can so we could safely be on our way.
Success was had as the Park’s guy flung both bags into the back of the pickup
truck. Brad waved at the guy as he made his way back to the Impala. The Parks
and Rec. truck revved to life and took off headed back to highway 101. We
waited for the truck to turn before we headed out.
Smiles awaited Brad as he got back into the backseat. Miles actually spoke
for the first time. I’m sure he has spoken before, but as of yet, I hadn’t heard him
until now. “One thing about Brad, he can find an opportunity quicker than any
one that I know of”. Gary reached over the back seat and gave Brad high five. I felt like I should join in the fun but wasn’t quite sure how I fit into this group yet. “Thanks for getting that out of my shoulder, so anything I can help you guys with,
just let me know”. Brad gave a brief smile followed with, “Thanks for not frying
my ass. I can’t talk for everybody else, but I’m starved”.
My opportunity just presented itself. “Well, let’s get to Lincoln City and find some grub, my treat”. That met with instant approval with some woofing sounds provided by those in the front seat. Gary lit up a smoke as did Brad. I joined in as well and felt a bit more comfortable with my current surroundings. Jenny would want me to stay cautious, and I will not disappoint her.
5
We made our way to downtown Lincoln City in less than five minutes, which was much quicker than the hour plus that it would’ve taken me by foot. Miles saw a Burger King just to our left and pulled in and met with everyone’s approval. As we got out of the Impala I noticed that Miles was not only rail thin,
but freakishly tall. He was at least 6 foot 8 which is a couple of inches taller than
Sheriff Pasco from Astoria. Miles was also one hundred fifty pounds lighter than
the Sheriff.
Brad the Raccoon, was about my size, and Gary was the runt of the litter, but only in height. He was solidly built and had piercing brown eyes which would keep people from extended eye contact with him. We weren’t an imposing bunch, physically at least, except for Gary.
It was just after 11:00am, and we were hoping to beat the lunch rush. No such luck as August in Lincoln City is filled with tourists, hungry tourists therefore Burger King was packed.
We enjoyed a sizable feast. I did make the mistake of telling them to order whatever they wanted; they did and then some. The damage was almost forty bucks. It was a small price to pay for elective surgery to be sure, since I didn’t have to worry about being followed anymore.
6
Carlton Banks had parked his Forest green Jeep Wrangler as close to the exit of Burger King as possible. He was devouring his two chicken sandwiches with fries and a large Coke when he heard a loud car pulling into the parking lot. Carlton always chose a window seat if possible; he never knew when he would
need to make a sudden exit.
He monitored the old Chevy as it parked, thinking to himself what a rusted out piece of crap. As the four occupants of the car got out, Carlton recognizedone of them in particular. It was his target, Billy Speer. His immediate thought was how much easier Billy would be to track since he caught a ride. His next thought brought up the issue of the bounty t
hat the compound had put out on
him.
Five million dollars, that was the bounty paid to the person or persons that brought Billy to the compound alive. Easier said than done considering the damage Billy caused in Astoria. This would take careful planning and patience to ensure a safe delivery of one Billy Speer. Mr. Armand Baily, chief security for the compound of Round Mountain knew that Carlton was a great shot, but doubted his patience or perseverance to accomplish the task of bringing him in on his own accord, thus the fee of twenty thousand dollars would be waiting for him once he returned to the compound.
Twenty thousand was a real nice number he thought, but five million sounded much more to his liking. The target was coming into Burger King and the more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that he was up to the task of brings him in on his own. He was sure of it.
Carlton was almost finished with his meal and decided to head outside while
the four of them were eating, to plant a tracking device on the back bumper of
the old beater of a Chevy. A safe move just in case the one he shot into Billy
decided to malfunction for whatever reason. He was on top of his game now, thinking of the look on Mr. Baily’s face when he brought in the Five Million dollar bounty on his own. He ran that thought over in his mind a few times as he reveled in the thought of covering himself with five million dollars, in small bills of course, clothing optional .
He was well equipped for his mission; he had the attachment for his Barrett
M107 sniper rifle so that he could shoot tranquilizer darts into Billy, the only safe
method of transport he figured. He would have to dispose of Billy’s riding mates as he couldn’t take chances that Billy would remain quiet on current issues. The disposal would be quick and easy as Carlton was good at what he did.
Thinking of the possibilities once Mr. Baily saw that his bounty had been brought in safe and sound, that he might get an upgrade from Lone assassin, to Carlton the Bounty Hunter. He wasn’t sure what his new title would pay, but after banking five million, he wasn’t that concerned.
7
We were outside letting our recent feast settle by having a smoke at the outside tables that were available for those who insisted on having it their way by dining outside. I couldn’t wait to find out more about my new friends. I was curious as to how the discovered their power, and to find out more about the other guy named Vargas. I was sure we had similar stories to swap.
Miles tapped Gary on the shoulder, “Hey, there’s a mid-life crisis guy checking out our ride”. Gary looked over just as the guy stood back up from apparently being bent over to check out maybe, the transmission. He wasn’t sure, but he did know he was uncomfortable with anyone being that close to their
car. I was still puffing away when Gary, Miles, and Brad tossed their smokes to the ground and made a bee line for the Impala. Not wanting to miss out, I followed suit and joined my new friend.
The guy checking out the Impala sensed that he was being approached but
didn’t seem too concerned about it. He was an older guy, of course when you’re seventeen, every male falls into that category. I would guess he was maybe fifty, with short salt and pepper hair, about my height, just less than six feet tall. He wore a Seahawks cap, wore a dark blue tee shirt and old jeans that were wore out at the knees. He seemed harmless enough. Judging by Gary’s demeanor, he had a different picture for this guy.
The guy turned to face Gary just as he approached the older guy from behind, “This must be a 1972 right”, the older guy asked politely? Gary approached the older guy and nicely replied, “Indeed it is, are you interested in older cars, more specifically the ones held together by rust and a prayer like this one”? The older
Guy started to chuckle when I heard a piercing buzzing noise going right past my
ear. I looked up and saw the older guy standing there with a strange look on his
face.
The guy looked down and I saw what he did; he had been shot in the chest. A couple of families had just come out of Burger King as this happened and three women started screaming at the top of their lungs at the sight of the older guy standing there with blood pouring out of him. The bloodied older man looked back up at Gary as his eye’s rolled back into his head and he fell forward onto Gary.
We were all stunned and stood there like statues, not knowing what to do, when Brad hollered, “Time to roll, it looks like our passenger has been identified”. The rest of them knew what that meant as well as I did. Gary shrugged the bloodied body off of him as we hauled ass to get the hell out of there. The older
guy’s body landed just past the Impala. I noticed, numerous people gathering
outside of Burger King on their phones, and I’m gu essing they weren’t checking
messages.
About a dozen cars had already tried to exit Burger king back onto highway
101, but to no avail, as traffic had backed up as the lunch crowd had arrived in
earnest. The Impala’s engine roared to life as Miles barely waited for us to close the doors before he stuck it in reverse and peeled out backwards clipping the bumper of a newer SUV, pushing it onto the grassy area of Burger King.
I could hear sirens already getting close as I’m sure all those at Burger King
had thought that we had shot him. Trying to explain that story to the police
Sounded like a situation we should just avoid all together, if possible. The current traffic situation was bringing the explaining part closer to reality if we don’t get a
move on.
Gary was cursing up a storm as was Miles, and as always, blasting away at the horn accomplishes nothing when nothing is moving; Miles continued blasting away regardless. I looked at highway 101 and both directions were bumper to bumper for what appeared to be blocks.
“Now would be a good time to offer up any suggestions”, Brad loudly suggested. I remember what I did to that big city truck in Astoria, pushing it out of the way before it hit the patrol car that the Sheriff, Gordon and I were in.
Maybe, just maybe with a little concentration, but dammit I need to do this quick. I closed my eyes and focused on the Impala. The car started to shake, “What the hell”, Miles hollered. Brad was watching me and replied, “Settle down Miles I think the prodigy is trying something”. Prodigy, no, wanting to save my back side, absolutely!
The car started to rise much to the surprise of the other occupants of the car, even more so to those who were getting close to the car to copy down our plate number. The car kept rising. I opened my eyes and saw we were a good twenty feet above the ground. I did a pushing motion with my arms, similar to what I did with the city truck, but this time I motioned us forward.
The initial thrust tossed everyone’s head back as the car was traveling much faster than I thought. Hey this is my first time flying a car; I don’t even have a driver’s license and doing the best I can. Everyone was silent in the Impala, except for Brad who was screaming with delight hollering, “Faster, Billy, Faster”.
I appreciated the support, but I have no idea how to control the speed as I
have no gas pedal; just my mind. I was hoping not to get us all killed.
Miles was in a catatonic state of white knuckles on the steering wheel. Gary was looking down but not saying anything. Brad was having a great time enjoying the ride. I on the other hand felt somewhat exhausted from the extended use of
my mind. I knew I couldn’t hold out much longer. “As soon as you see that we’re
clear of traffic, let me know so I can put this thing down”, I requested.
Gary peered out the window again and said, “We just passed the last of the traffic, so whenever you’re ready”. I was ready, except for the part of bringing us back down safely. I continued to focus on the Impala, as it slowly made its way
back down. “About five more feet”, hollered Gary. Miles came back to life with, “Easy on the landing, the shocks
on t his thing are shit”. Great, no pressure, as I was giving myself a monstrous headache with escape attempt. Down, down a little more; there, I felt tires on the ground as the Impala gave the slightest hint of
a bounce.
Everyone was cheering, not only that we escaped, but survived my landing attempt. Brad lit up a celebratory smoke as did I, but the first inhale made me extremely dizzy, almost ready to puke dizzy. Brad was still bouncing up and down on the back seat like a kid ready to get back in lin e for the roller coaster. That extra motion was not aiding my stomach situation at all. Brad turned towards me and exclaimed, “Dude that was awesome, I thought only Vargas was the only one of us strong enough to pull that off. Hey, what’s wrong, you loo k whiter than a
sheet”?
I just waved him off, “Just got dizzy; I never tried anything for that long
before”
Miles chimed in, “Before we celebrate too much, maybe we should get the
map out. I don’t know if we can get back to Bend on traditional roads after the air show we put on”. Gary opened the glove box and pulled out the map, but saw a sign on the road, “Quick, turn left here”. Miles hit the brakes and checked the rearview mirror as there was still no one behind us and made a quick left on highway 229.
Gary turned back to me and Brad, “229 will snake around to highway 20, then we have a straight shot to Bend”. Did he say Bend, where the hell is Bend? What is Bend, a city, why would you name your town a verb in the present tense? Oh God I feel sick, not that we are going to bend, but I think my double whopper with cheese is about to make a curtain call. “Hey guys, pull over I’m about to lose
lunch”.
Miles pulled over to the side of the road as I got out before the car came to a
stop. A small blue spruce was the lucky recipient of my offering for lunch. After a couple of hurls I dropped to my knees as the dizzy feeling kicked in again. Feeling like an infant attempting to crawl, I heard a faint sound not all that far away. It wasn’t a car but I could hear it getting closer.
The Road to Round Mountain II - The Alliance: By C.G Roberts Page 2
