Blood Lines Read Free Page B

khaki pants that would cover the weapon.
    Weapon already in place, Remy slid into the passenger seat. Golden yellow wraparound sunglasses masked his eyes.
    â€œYou ready to do this?” Remy asked.
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œâ€™Cause after that scene on the basketball court, I’m not so sure.”
    Shel throttled the angry response and concentrated on breathing out. Pleasant or not, Remy’s concerns were warranted.
    â€œI’m fine.” Shel slipped the Jeep into gear and headed out of the parking lot.
    â€œYou’re fine?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œJust like that, you’re fine?” Remy clearly had a hard time believing that.
    Shel glanced at him. “Yeah.”
    â€œThen you tell me what that business back at the basketball game was.”
    â€œAn aberration.”
    â€œCool,” Remy said sarcastically. “I feel all relieved now. You’re using big words and everything.”
    â€œYou’re really going to make this hard, aren’t you?”
    â€œWe’re lucky we’re still outside a cell, still walking around. So, yeah, I’m gonna make this hard.”
    â€œI got a thing,” Shel replied.
    â€œWhat kind of thing? About winning basketball?”
    Shel made himself tell the truth. “About Father’s Day.”
    Remy stared at him in silence for a moment. “Oh. Okay.” Then he relaxed back into his seat like he was hesitant about saying anything else.

3

    >> Interstate 40
    >> West of Jacksonville, North Carolina
    >> 1403 Hours
    Charlotte was just under five hours from Camp Lejeune. After they were out of Jacksonville, the town surrounding the Marine camp, Shel headed west on Interstate 40, chasing the sun.
    â€œIf the traffic stays good,” Shel said, “we’ll be in Charlotte around seven.”
    Remy nodded. He leaned back in the seat and played a PSP game. Earbuds filled his head with the sounds of battle on the brightly lit screen. He had pulled out the game system before they’d cleared the main gates at the camp.
    â€œIs our fugitive still going to be there?” Shel asked.
    â€œYep.”
    â€œYou’re sure?”
    â€œYep.” Remy twisted and turned slightly in his seat as he followed the game’s shifting environment.
    â€œAnd if he’s not?”
    â€œThen maybe I saved Camp Lejeune from Shelzilla. Bad thing is nobody knows, and I don’t get a medal or a commendation.”
    Shel took in a deep breath and let it out.
    â€œThat ain’t gonna work,” Remy said.
    â€œWhat?” Shel asked irritably.
    â€œTrying to suck in all the oxygen in the Jeep and hoping I pass out from asphyxiation.”
    The growing irritation inside Shel almost broke free. “You planning a comedy routine?”
    Remy grinned a brilliant white smile. “Nope. This is what you call natural humor. But if you want, I can use hand puppets. Might make it easier for the slow kids to comprehend.”
    Shel ignored him. And he continued to do so for the next 137 miles.

    >> Interstate 40
    >> Outside Greensboro, North Carolina
    >> 1619 Hours
    Shel pumped gas at the small convenience store while Remy went to grab some burgers from the fast food franchise located inside. Max ran around the dog-walking area.
    By the time Shel paid for the gas, cleaned up after Max, hit the head, and returned to the Jeep, Remy stood waiting with two paper sacks of burgers and fries and a tray containing a half-dozen bottles of water. They divvied the food, and Remy emptied one of the water bottles into a dish beside the Jeep for Max.
    â€œWho’s the fugitive?” Shel unwrapped one of the burgers and took a bite.
    â€œA lowlife named Bobby Lee Gant.” Remy bit into his burger, then winced a little; Shel saw him try to cover the reaction. Remy’s jaw was still swollen from the punch he’d taken.
    Shel chewed, thought for a moment, then swallowed. “The biker guy who did the carjacking in