Chasing The Dragon Read Free Page B

curb. Above the crosswalk, the light had turned green.
    “Hey, dipshit,” the boy called. “You forget how to drive?”
    Georgia stepped on the gas and pulled away just as the girl shouted, “Stupid bitch!”
    These were the people she risked her life to protect? You’re welcome , she thought bitterly, then immediately felt guilty. It wasn’t their fault. They didn’t know.
    She needed some rest, that was all. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept. Little Rock maybe, or Wichita Falls. It was hard to tell. One place was the same as any other when all you did was blow through on the Dragon’s trail and hope this wouldn’t be the place you died. But after the fight at the diner, what she wanted more than anything was a long hot shower, a nice meal and a comfortable bed. Unfortunately, she would have to make do with a vending machine and a cheap motel with a rock-hard mattress and sandpaper sheets, as usual. At least they usually had showers.
    She found a motel on the far side of town, the Buckshot Motor Inn according to the rotating neon sign, though the placard on the office door said BUCKSHOT MOTORIN’. The office was a small room with a pickup truck calendar thumbtacked to the wall, a mostly empty spinning rack of brochures for local tourist attractions, and an empty aquarium that bubbled and churned despite the lack of fish. A boy who couldn’t have been more than fifteen years old sat behind the counter, watching a small TV. The boy’s face still bore the ravages of teenage acne, his brown hair oily and uncombed. On the TV, a man with a thick moustache and black hat called someone in a saloon a “cocksucker” and pulled a knife. The boy looked up at Georgia and grinned sheepishly, revealing metal braces wired across his teeth.
    “Didn’t hear you come in,” he said, turning down the volume. “My dad doesn’t let me watch this show normally, on account of all the swearing and ti . . . uh, nudity, but whenever I get the chance while he’s out . . .” He shrugged. “Anyway, what can I do for you, miss? You looking for a room? Guess you must be. No one comes here just to hang out, right?” He smiled again, then closed his mouth quickly, as if suddenly embarrassed by his braces.
    “I guess they don’t,” Georgia said. “I need a room for one night, maybe two. Something with a hot shower and privacy.”
    “No problem,” the boy said. He stood up and walked over to a row of keys hanging on pegs. “All the rooms got hot water, and they all got curtains and locks so no one disturbs you. You, uh, here with someone?” The acne on his cheeks disappeared in a deep blush. “Sorry, I just mean . . .” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Focus, Wilbur. Do it like Dad taught you.” He opened his eyes again. “Single occupancy or double?”
    “Single,” Georgia said, trying not to laugh. It was hard keeping it inside. She hadn’t laughed in a long time. “Any bags?”
    “One in the car. I can handle it.”
    Wilbur took a key off its peg and returned to the counter.
    “That’s thirty-five a night, including tax, and we need the first night’s up front,” he said. Georgia handed him two twenties still greasy from the diner’s cash register. He handed her a five in return and asked her to sign the guest ledger. When she was done, he swung the ledger around to look at her name. “Georgia, huh? Like the state. You from there?” She shook her head. “No, I guess no one from Georgia would be named Georgia. It would just sound silly, wouldn’t it? Like, ‘I’m Georgia from Georgia,’ you know?” He handed her the key, his face burning red with the realization that he was babbling again. “I can show you to your room if you want.”
    “I can manage. You don’t want to miss the rest of your show.”
    Wilbur nodded. “All right. Room nineteen, like it says on the key chain. Just hit zero on the phone if you need anything. It’s just me tonight, but I can, you know,” he