FOLLOW THE LEADER Chapter 4
Chapter 4
The man in the buckskin jacket turned away and gazed into a store window.
The man in the buckskin jacket turned away and gazed into a store window.
His pretty
companion quickly checked her appearance in the same window. There it is, she thought. The fucking scar. Shit! Her nearly perfect features were
marred by a long scar on her right cheek. There was no covering it up unless she
went to a plastic surgeon.
There was one
up-side to her ugly scar, though. It might cause someone to ask about it.
Get’em talking, Jason always says.
Here was another chance to test her
charm. To persuade. Hell, everything
was a test with Jason.
She left Jason
and headed up the sidewalk. She approached the young vagabond, closely
observing her. Soon she picked up the scent of smoke. They had camped out
somewhere. Oregon, maybe. Maybe even Canada. Their backpacks were big and they
were stuffed.
She
smiled and said, “You guys been camping?”
Rhonda
started, caught off guard.
“Some
law against camping?”
“Depends
on where you do it.”
“Duh.
We can read signs. We’re not stupid.”
“I’m
a camper, myself.”
Rhonda
took her measure and sneered. “You sure don’t look like one.”
“Our
camp has tents but we also have showers and toilets. Oh, and a kitchen, as
well.”
Rhonda
pictured a pristine campground full of school kids. She wondered if the
longhaired woman might even be a counselor in a Y.W.C.A. camp. No, she decided.
She was part of some religious group. However,
her beatific aura did not match the gray scar. The scar shouted: Street! Knife fight! Then she remembered. Everywhere she went, it didn’t
matter where, she was approached by young men and women with the same damned sappy
look.
“Are
you a Mormon?” Rhonda asked.
“Hell
no!” the woman laughed. “Hey, have you guys had breakfast?”
Just
then Rhonda’s friend emerged from the deli with a sack and two Cokes.
“This is our breakfast,” Rhonda chirped,
as if she were proud of the fact.
“Who
are you?” asked Rhonda’s friend.
“Just
passing by.”
“You
want meth, weed or spare change, we ain’t got it,” said Rhonda’s friend.
“On
the contrary...” Digging into her tote bag now.
The
two friends exchanged a weary look.
The
woman in the silver necklace held out two pieces of candy tightly wrapped in
waxy paper.
“Taffy?”
asked Rhonda.
“Elixir.
This will produce a way better high than whatever shit you’ve been hyping or
snorting.”
Now
she had their complete attention.
“I
want to know what I’m ingesting,” said Rhonda.
“How
much is it?” asked her friend.
“It’s
not dangerous and it’s free. Here.”
She
gave each a piece. “Ciao,” she said
and walked away.
Rhonda and her
friend hesitated for a moment, then ate the candy.
The man in the
buckskin jacket was watching them and smiling.
He dug out his
cell phone and punched some numbers.
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