Page 98 of Dizzy

My rescuer, Brick by the name on his cut, hoists himself off his bike and lights a cigarette.

“Closed,” he says, nodding to the metal grate pulled down over windows displaying a trumpet, a stack of DVD players, and a collection of those gas trucks you can buy at Christmas.

Brick is a keen observer of the obvious.

I survey the street. I haven’t seen the whole town, but this is definitely the seedy section. Vacant store fronts. A package goods. A vape shop. A discount cell phone carrier.

I touch the lump in my pocket. I do have one thing going for me. A fully charged phone.

God, I didn’t want to call one of my sisters to bail me out, but it’ll be dark in a few hours, and already the wind’s whipping up into something nasty.

“So what’s the plan?” Brick asks. “This ain’t a great neighborhood to be hanging out on the street.”

I don’t know. I can’t sit on a bench and wait for the store to open. Steel Bones will be looking for me. It’d be a toss-up whether I’d freeze to death, or they’d find me first.

And oh, shit. I can’t call home. Dizzy knows I’m from Dalton. I can’t go back there. Steel Bones would find me in no time.

Dalton ain’t like the small towns where people are tight-mouthed and suspicious of strangers. It’s the kind of place where people will draw you a map to help you find what you’re lookin’ for and then give you a sob story about baby formula until you fork over a fiver. And they won’t have any kids.

Carol or Dee might help me get home. None of my sisters would front me cash to go to New York City.

All I’ve got is the gold ring.

I’m so screwed, but I can’t stay here, dithering. If Heavy finds me, the game’s over.

“Let’s go to my place,” Brick says, flicking his ash. “My woman will make dinner. You can take a minute to breathe.”

This guy really wants me to go home with him. Not good. But what are my other choices? Steel Bones is the rock. This guy is the hard place. He’s pushin’ sixty, though, and I’m fairly sure I could fight him off, if it’s just him. But will it be just him where he’s planning to take me?

Let me try something else.

“Actually, I need a ride.”

“Yeah? Where you headed?”

“New York.”

“New York?” Brick screws up his jowly face like I said outer space. “That’s a way away.”

“Yeah.”

“I was just headed home. Down on the flats. About five miles that way.” He jerks his thumb over his shoulder.

I scrub a hand over my face. “Is there a bus stop?”

“For school buses. The closest bus line is—shit—Shady Gap? Maybe Pyle.”

“I don’t suppose you’re goin’ to Shady Gap?”

He shakes his head. “Can’t say that I am.” His face brightens as if he just got an idea. It’s the fakest look. “Here’s an idea. I’m headed out tomorrow for Stonecut County. Spank the Devil.” A genuine grin splits his face. “The old lady’s gonna visit her sister. I’m flyin’ solo this year.”

I’ve been hearing about Spank the Devil since I came to town. It’s a biker rally in the mountains north of here. A huge deal. Not Sturgis big, but respectable. They’ve even got a band headlining that I’ve heard on the radio.

People will be there from all over. I could hitch a ride basically anywhere.

“Why don’t I give you a ride there? We could hang. You could, uh, figure out your next move.”

“Okay. Yeah. That would be great.” I scan the empty street. “I could meet you here. Once this place opens, I’ll have gas money.”

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