Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 149301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
He sparked up the engine of his Ram 1500, one of many of his fleet. She was reliable. One of his older babies. While heading home, he realized that he needed some gasoline for his mower, and for the truck, too. He swung into the nearest gas station and pulled up to a pump. It was at this time that he figured out a black SUV had made some of the same turns he did. There was no mistaking it because now, that same SUV was at the gas station.
A left at the light, a right onto Westheimer Rd… so on and so forth. He got out of his truck, paid for his gas with his credit card, and started pouring it into his red gas container he kept in the truck bed for his lawn mower. Once it was full, he placed it back in his truck and started to fill it up, too. In the reflection of the metal handle, he noticed the black car pull up to the pump on the left of him, about fifteen or so feet away. He kept on pumping his gas, humming a tune. Letting go of the lever, he let it do its thing. Two men got out of the car and one sort of idled, then reached for their pump, while the other walked around the side, out of view.
Kage removed a compass from his pocket—one his mama gave him that had belonged to his father. It had a mirror finish. On the front of it, like a makeup compact, it read: Kane Austin – Leader of the pack. He turned it just so, using it as a reflector, and caught the man looking at him from around the pillar. While the gas kept pumping, he opened his driver’s side door, acting as if he were casually reaching for something.
“Heeey there, boy! Good to see you!” He turned on a dime and bum-rushed the man, laughing as if they were old chums while he shoved him into his truck, forcing the man’s back against the gearshift and middle console. Kage quickly locked them inside. Inside that truck was a whole lot of hell breaking loose, and a whole lot of terror going on, too. Kage gouged his eyes, punched his face, and elbowed him in the ears and ribs.
The guy left pumping the gas was now yelling, beating on the window, garnering unwanted attention. Kage’s fists landed over and over on their quarry, doubling down like heavy twins playing hopscotch. The truck began to rock as the fucker tried to fight him, then seemed to become resolved to the fact that he couldn’t win this fight, so he made a move to reach for his gun.
Kage snatched the weapon and tossed it in the back seat. “You dumb shit! You shoot that thang and everyone is gettin’ blown to kingdom come! Includin’ you!” I got gasoline residue on my hands, in this truck, and look where the fuck we’re at!” The man’s eyes grew wild as realization set in.
Kage sprung the passenger’s door open, kicked the man out onto the asphalt, then jumped down on top of him, swinging and beating his face bloody some more. His friend tried to pull him off as folks screamed, some cheered, some videotaped the madness on their phones. When Kage was good and satisfied, he stood to his feet, huffing and puffing, then looked over his shoulder at the bastard’s sidekick. He, too, had a gun on his hip. Grunting, the man patted his pocket—a warning.
“That’s enough. You keep your fuckin’ hands off him, and come with me. Got someone who wants to see you.” He flashed a knife, just out of view from the crowd, but Kage didn’t miss the pointy glimmer of the weapon. Kage reared back…
And BAM!
“Auugghhh… Ahhhhh… Shit!” The man doubled over from the hard fist to his gut.
Kage snatched the handle of the blade from the man’s pocket and spun around. Removing the fuel pump from his truck, he jumped in the vehicle and sped off. His fists were throbbing, but he was otherwise alright. To onlookers, it no doubt looked like a vicious fist fight—two against one. But he knew better. It went much deeper than that.
His body was tired from working all day, but this sudden burst of adrenaline made him feel renewed. Pulling to the side of the road, he parked in a grocery store parking lot with a view of the main road. He grabbed the guy’s gun that he’d tossed in the back seat, shoved it in his glove compartment, and waited.
When he caught sight of the black car, he let it pass by, then began tailing them. He lit a cigarette, cracked his window, and turned up the music. Blues Saraceno’s, ‘Dogs of War’ played at high volume. He blew smoke out the side of his mouth as he kept his eye on the prize. After several minutes, he gained momentum, letting himself be known. Blowing his horn and making fast maneuvers, he noticed the two men looking in the rearview mirror at the same time. One of them grinned, pulled out a gun and waved it about.