Baby, Drive South Read Free

but characteristically, Marcus had simply jammed his hands on his hips and said, “Let’s get to work, boys.”
    What lay ahead had been countless hours of back-breaking work for them and the men they’d recruited, most of whom had served with Marcus in the Marines, with Kendall in the Air Force, and with him in the Army. In the beginning, they had all been too tired by the end of the day to think about the fact that their beds were empty. But now…
    Porter spotted movement in the distance and jerked the binoculars back to focus. At the sight of heat rising from the dark asphalt in an undulating haze, his heart jumped to his throat—a vehicle was approaching…a large vehicle. Porter squinted, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. When realization struck, he almost dropped the binoculars.
    It wasn’t a large vehicle…it was several vehicles approaching. No—
    Dozens .
    A bumper-to-bumper caravan was headed straight for Sweetness! And from the looks of the arms and heads and long hair lolling out of convertibles and rolled-down windows, the cars were jam-packed with women. Hot, eager, willing women!
    Porter slapped his thigh and whooped with joy. He waved his arms, knowing the chances of anyone noticing him at this distance were slim at best. But the ad had worked—he couldn’t wait to tell Marcus! He rushed toward the ladder, returning the binoculars to his belt while fumbling for his cell phone. With one hand he began to scramble down the tall, narrow ladder, using the other hand to speed-dial his brother, half-wishing he could be there in person to see the look on Marcus’s face.
    Porter suddenly realized he’d forgotten his shirt and in his hesitation, his foot slipped off a rung. The weight of his body broke his one-handed grip. His gut clenched in realization of just how far a fall off the tower ladder would be. He flailed in midair for a few seconds before conceding defeat and tucking into a roll to help absorb the certain and nasty impact.
    As he plummeted through the air, Porter released a strangled curse. Just his rotten luck that carloads of women were finally here…and he’d be lying at the bottom of the water tower with a broken neck.

2
    T he flat-back landing jarred every bone in Porter’s body and drove the air out of his lungs. He lay there for a few seconds and waited for the initial pain to subside before daring to breathe. When he had no choice but to drag air into his body, he registered gratefully that his lungs hadn’t been punctured. He only hoped the rest of his internal organs had fared so well. The sweet tang of wild grass and the musty scent of soil filled his nostrils. His ears buzzed with more than the noise of the insects in the weeds around him.
    He opened his eyes gingerly and saw the water tower looming over him at a seemingly impossible height. The fact that he was alive was a small miracle.
    “Porter? Porter?”
    At the sound of his name, he blinked, then realized the distant voice was coming from his cell phone lying near his head.
    Marcus.
    Porter twisted to reach the phone, but when pain lit up his lower left leg, he shouted in agony.
    “Porter?”
    He made another attempt, gritting his teeth against his body’s rebellion, and finally closed his fingers around the phone. He brought it to his ear. “Yeah, I’m here.”
    “What happened?”
    Porter winced again, contrite. “I was on the water tower.”
    “And?”
    “And…I have good news and bad news.”
    Marcus’s sigh crackled like static over the phone. “Give me the good news.”
    “There’s a caravan of women headed into town.”
    “If that’s the good news,” Marcus said sourly, “I don’t think I want to hear the bad news.”
    “The bad news is I fell off the water tower and I think I broke my leg.”
    Porter held the phone away from his ear to spare himself the litany of curses his brother unleashed. When Marcus quieted, Porter put the phone back to his mouth. “Are you going to come get me,