One More Run (Roadhouse Chronicles Book 1) by Matthew S. Cox

Author:Matthew S. Cox [Cox, Matthew S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781620070598
Publisher: Curiosity Quills Press
Published: 2016-12-04T00:00:00+00:00

Kevin squinted at pale desert, aflame in the shimmering glow of the relentless sun. The Challenger’s wheel motors purred like their old selves, without the added weight of so many passengers. Rattling from behind reassured him, his box of miscellaneous handy crap once again in easy reach. Cortez settlement seemed more than happy to welcome six women and a girl. A middle-aged couple had agreed to take Stacy in. The best part about stopping there had been another helping of Jean’s gumbo. Tris had been quiet since they left, and kept her head turned to the right.

“That didn’t take long.” Kevin tapped his fingers on the wheel.

“What?” she muttered, not looking.

“That kid got under your skin already. You fell for it.”

Tris smirked at him. “She said I was the only one who’d ever done anything nice for her.”

“What was that? Not kill her?”

“The purple sweatshirt. Used to be Tyrant’s.” Tris sighed. “She’s had a crummy life. She’s only fifteen.”

“And you’re only twenty and I’m only twenty… something. Seven?” He accelerated to ninety. “Fuck it. Everyone’s got a shitty life. Keep your eyes open for dust trails.”

“What’s that you keep looking at?” Tris pointed to a dark two-inch screen below and left of the rear view, hooked into the dash by four exposed spiral wires.

“Rad meter.”

She kept quiet for a little while, but continued to fidget in her seat as if she couldn’t get comfortable.

“Piss break?”

“Not a bad idea, but… What happened to that whole people are friendly thing? Couple days ago, you were trying to tell me the documentaries are wrong, now you’re all ‘the world is shit.’”

“I’m pissed off.”

“So close but so far?”

He twitched when the rad meter lit up with 0018. “Crap. Hope you brought sunblock. If that fucker hits 100, I’m turning around and there won’t be any negotiation.”

“100? Please tell me that’s not Gray.”

“No, it’s red. You colorblind?”

Tris stared at him. “Remember the other day when I said you’re smarter than you look? Yeah, forget it. Gray is a measurement. 100 Gray would melt someone. You wouldn’t have time to turn around.”

“It’s rads.”

She blinked. “Who uses rads anymore?”

“Sorry, I don’t have Enclave tech.”

She shoved him on the shoulder. “It’s not Enclave. It’s been around a long time.”

Parts of the paving had broken apart in jagged junks. Here and there, the bumps forced him off onto the dirt for a smoother ride. Blasted out shells of steel trailers dotted the road, the metal blued near jagged tears along the south-facing parts. Large hunks of debris, pieces of former buildings, cars, and a set of train wheels, sat at the ends of angled furrows going in the same direction, a frightening indication of proximity toto Dallas’ Ground Zero. Kevin grumbled. Taking a ride to Harrisburg on Tris’s flimsy promise for a thousand coins was one thing… but driving this close to an impact crater stressed the limits of reason.

He slowed to a halt. Twisted iron and steel claws rose from the scorch mark that had once been Dallas, Texas, a dark stain across the horizon.

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