AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Loring switched off his motor so Valentine could listen. He saw a pair of bloody fingerprints below one of the windows, upside-down letters reading
MILKMAN
He stuck his head in and looked at the field of gauges and controls. He smelled blood, strong now.
Cargo netting filled the rear of the plane, mostly empty save for a couple of battered crates and strewn duffel bags. He smelled a sweet odor, and traced it to a broken jar of preserved plums in syrup resting against a big water bottle and a mouth tube. An open camera case with a body and a long lens inside rested on the roof. "There are some bags of cargo here. And a camera. You want to check for salvage?"
"Rocket rails", Loring said, still firmly in his saddle, bike pointed for a quick exit.
"Hmmm?" Valentine asked. He pulled the camera case out and inspected the prize. It looked quite valuable.
"On the bottom of the wings. This thing's built to carry rockets, and they've been fired a lot. Let's get out of here. Let the colab choke out here".
Valentine made a slow circuit of the plane. The ground was rocky and...
Blood on the air.
The pilot's keeping close to his ship, but hiding. Sensible, if his friends come looking for him.
Valentine approached the bike. "He's still in the area", he said quietly.
Loring watched the sun, now touching the mountains. "If you say so. I'm dusting off. You coming?"
"I want to meet this guy", Valentine said.
"Shit. You said there were bags of stuff?"
"Yes".
"Gimme one". Loring unwrapped a bungee cord from his handlebar.
Valentine retrieved an ordinary-looking service duffel. It contained a rolled-up sleeping mat and spare blankets. He watched while Loring took off his leather jacket, zipped it on the upright duffel, then placed it in the saddle behind him. He whipped the bungee around it and fixed it at his belly button.
"From a distance it'll look like we're still riding together. Maybe the Jaguars will chase me instead of hunt you up. Pyp's gold isn't worth your life, Max".
"No", Valentine agreed.
"Hope you make it back to the road, then, Samaritan".
"Ride free", Valentine said, summoning his one piece of biker slang. He handed over the camera case. "Give this to Lautenberg. Maybe you and he can split the proceeds of the sale. A thank-you from me.
"Aye-yup", Loring agreed. "Keep on God's good side". He winked and started up his bike.
Valentine ducked back into the shadow of the plane and watched Loring bump off. He dropped into a crouch, and began to hunt.
* * *
Valentine followed his nose uphill, found a telltale drop of blood or two, and finally heard rather wheezy breathing from a thick stand
of barrel-shaped cacti. Wild sheep dotted the mountain slopes above, feeding on the grasses in the wind-sheltered washes.
The flier had chosen his vantage well. It offered a good view of the wreck and the mountainside.
Valentine sat down on a flat-topped rock about ten feet away from the cactus and opened a bag of dried fruit, listened to the breathing. He rinsed his mouth out, then extracted a couple of apple chips and crunched them down. "You want some?"
The cactus stand didn't say anything. Whoever was within held his breath.
"This is a nasty patch of ground, flyboy. You're not going to like the natives".
