Wendigo (Hit World: Kisses and Chaos Book 3) by Larry Hoy & Craig Martelle

Author:Larry Hoy & Craig Martelle [Hoy, Larry & Martelle, Craig]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-08-16T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

Mustang crumpled a can of Red Bull with a contemptuous sneer in the dimly lit motel room. The taste, a nauseatingly sweet blend of liquid gummy bears, made him gag. But a generous pour of vodka diluted its sugary flavor, making it as smooth as the ride of his cherished racing bike gathering dust back home. Each sip rekindled memories of adrenaline-charged rides and wind tousling his hair.

He took a long swig from his glass, savoring the tingling sensation it brought to his lips. With an air of satisfaction, he crossed out another number on the list of private airlines. The ink bled slightly into the paper. The pursuit of Sweetwater had been taxing, and the list is a testament to his efforts. But the numbers and the alcohol had started to play tricks on his eyes, dancing and merging like restless specters.

He closed one eye and pressed his finger to the paper beside the next number on the list. That stopped the numbers from moving around the page. Now, they just trembled in place. He typed in the last number and smugly hit Call.

It took six rings before a gruff, sleep-hazed voice rasped, “D’you have any idea what fucking time it is?”

Caught off-guard, Mustang’s mind raced. “Oh hell,” he mumbled, pressing a hand to his forehead, trying to concentrate as the room rocked gently. “Dude, I’m so sorry. I just flew in. I’ve got no idea what time it is. Should I call back?”

The man sighed. “I’m up. What do you want?” He might have mumbled something about Mustang’s intelligence, but it was hard to understand, so he let it slide.

“I need a flight to Tosche Station. No, that’s not right. Tashis… Hashish… No.” He closed one eye and pressed his finger against the paper where his notes were. The words were still spinning but slowed enough for him to read them. “I need a flight to Tanananana.” He clamped his mouth tight. Sure, he messed up the town's name, but he didn’t dare to try it again.

“Do you mean Tanana?” asked the voice on the phone.

“Yesh. That’s it. Tananana,” Mustang repeated. “I’m chasing a killer, and I’m going to kill him back.”

“First, you should stop talking,” said the voice. “I don’t want to know why you’re going somewhere. I only want to know where and if you can afford it.”

“I have an expensive account… I mean expense account.”

“Fine. Yes, I can take you to Tanana. I assume you know the way to the airport?”

“Yesh.”

There was a pause. “We leave tomorrow afternoon. You should lay off the booze. If you throw up in my plane, you’re going to piss me off, and I’ll triple the already generous fee you’re going to pay me.”

“Yesh, shir. Tomorrow afternoon. What time?”

The man stressed each syllable. “To-mo-row af-ter noon. Be there, and do not piss me off.” The call ended.

“Fuck yeah.” He popped the top on another can of Red Bull. In his other hand, he picked up the bottle of vodka and poured them together into his cup of ice.

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