Big Ape_Lawless Book Two by James Maxey

Author:James Maxey [Maxey, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-02-18T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Better People

ONE WEEK LATER I was riding across southern Texas on a big-ass Goldwing Cruiser. I used to ride motorcycles all the time when I was with the Red Line. Back then I sometimes dreamed of taking off and tooling across the country, seeing the sights. The reality of actually doing it didn’t quite live up to the dream. Having driven about two thousand miles of interstate, I was pretty much over motorcycles. Remember my saying I had no butt? That never really bothered me on my late night zips around the Port City beltline. But around mile 200 on I-73 through Pennsylvania, the lower back pain really kicked in, and grew worse with each mile.

Still, for an ape travelling incognito, a big bike isn’t a bad way to move across the country in broad daylight. The new-men had fitted me up with a helmet big enough for my huge head, a custom-made leather jacket and gauntlets that hid my hairy arms, and when you’re squatting on a bike people don’t really notice that your limbs aren’t the right proportions. I did get a few odd looks when I stopped to pump gas with the credit card the new-men had given me, but no one called the cops. Like any good supervillain, Dr. Moreau had safe houses dotted across the US, so only once did I have to sleep in the tent I’d packed in the Goldwing’s saddlebags.

Finding Reverend Rifle’s compound out in the middle of nowhere wasn’t easy. Back in New York, when I told the new-men that his ranch had been built on top of a missile silo, it took Ivuna about twenty minutes of searching public records to come up with potential locations, and a simple peek at Google Earth had been all I’d needed to figure out which was his based on the layout of the house, the outbuildings, and the airstrip. Still, finding it on Google Earth was one thing. Finding it down the maze of seemingly endless, dusty dirt roads once I left the paved roads behind turned out to be a little trickier. I’d set off on the last leg of my journey with a full tank of gas but after wasting a lot of time driving in circles the needle edged the E. I did vaguely recognize the mountains in the distance. I was close. But how close? I pulled up to an unmarked crossroad of thin dirt lines vanishing toward the horizon. To my left I saw the carcass of a horse, nothing but bleached bones and a few golden tufts of mane. Yeah, this probably was how my luck would break. Drive all the way across the country without incident, then die of thirst in the desert when the reverend’s ranch was probably a mile away, behind one of the low hills. But which one?

I studied the dust in the roads with the intensity of a detective peering at fingerprints. It paid off. There were tire tracks going down the road to my right, the tread still relatively sharp.

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