Page 145 of Rock Giant
“We need to make a stop.”
“That right?”Cave Troll replied from behind the wheel.He gave Paul a brief glance, and taking in the fact he was naked save for his boxer briefs, added, “You need a doc or summat?”
“Nah, I’m good.I need to pick up my wife.”
“You mean the one whose fiancé has probably taken a hit out on you, and who didn’t even bother to see if you were okay after you got wanged with a mic stand?Sorry, mate.Ferry to catch and a bunch of annoying arse wipes to drop off.”
“Troels, I’m asking nicely, but it’s non-negotiable.I’ve got a location.We need to stop.”
He was ready to hijack the damn bus if he had to.He rattled off the details Lee had managed to extract from the Ghosties driver, but Troels began shaking his head before he was even halfway through them.“Can’t mate, sorry.”
“Fuck the ferry.”
“T’ain’t that.Your location’s about twenty minutes back that way.”He raised a thumb over his shoulder.
“You’re fucking joking me.”
“Wish I was, man.Best I can do is pull over at the next convenient point and let you out.”
Paul wasn’t exactly sure how that would help.It wasn’t as if he could walk the fifteen or so miles back to where Jodi had been stranded in any reasonable sort of time.Not that he wouldn’t do it if another option didn’t present itself.
“Has the rust-bucket passed that point?”
The roadies’ bus was almost as nice as theirs this tour, but old habits died hard, hence the nickname for the crew bus remained.“Call them and ask.”
He did.They were past that point, too.
“Shit!”He aimed his foot at the dash but thought better of it.He needed a means of getting to her.“You gonna have to turn around.”
“That,” —Troels assured him— “isn’t happening.Road ain’t wide enough to be pulling U-turns even if I was of the mind to do one.”
He had a point, the road was currently only two lanes and most of what was off to the sides was grass and mountainside, with the occasional farmstead dotted among it accessible via dirt and gravel tracks.“Fuck!”He did thump the partition between the driver’s booth and the tour bus kitchen.If the buses couldn’t stop then...“Who’s driving the Danger Car?”
Troels gave him another sidewards glance.“Tony and Sam, I think.Leastways, they’ve got the big van.”
The big van housed most of the stage equipment but also played transporter for Ash’s car he insisted on ferrying places with them.For the second time in recent history, Paul was thankful for that fact.
He tried both men, Sam picked up.They were ahead on the road.Finally, a bit of good karma.He gave a quick explanation of the situation and arranged a rough location for them to pull over and wait for them.
Troels whistled through his teeth the moment Paul hung up.
“You’re not going to be an arse about stopping, are you?”
“I’ll stop.It’ll have to be a quick drop off mind.That’s not the issue.You know they’re not going to hand you the keys, not without a written affidavit signed in blood and witnessed by every member of the band.”
Good point.He’d have to get on with negotiating that.Sure, he could attempt to argue the toss with Tony and Sam, but it’d waste precious time he’d rather prioritise for the task of finding his lady love.What state was she in out there alone in the dead of night in a foreign country?
His shoulder needed an icepack, but he bypassed the fridge-freezer without opening it.
“Go away,” Ginny moaned when he stuck his head beneath the curtains of the bunk she and Ash were occupying.
“Can’t.I need Danger Mouse for an urgent mission.”
“It’s too early, Paul.”
“I need the car.”
“Fuck off,” Ash muttered.
