Chapter 21

The scooterist woke up in a dark place. He felt around, and realized it was also a small place. It smelled like upholstery, petroleum and... donuts? There was a tiny bit of light coming in from two openings, one near his head, and one near his feet. He soon realized he was in the trunk of a car. He started pounding on the lid of the trunk, and calling for help.

Lucky for him, there was a hooker standing nearby who heard him. She didn't want to get involved, so she went into the motel and told the person at the front desk that someone was trapped in the trunk of a car in their lot. Then she split.

The desk attendant went out to the parking lot and soon heard the scooterists cries for help, between thumps coming from inside the car. He went over to the car and yelled "I've got some locksmith's tools inside, hang on a minute and I'll get you out!"

The scooterist calmed down a bit. After a few minutes the attendant came back and began fiddling with the lock for the trunk. To be honest, he did not have very much experience breaking into cars, and it took him quite a while to get the door unlatched.

When the lid was finally open, the scooterist climbed out of the trunk, and asked the attendant who the car belonged to.

"I don't know, sir. It doesn't belong to any of our guests."

The scooterist began to walk away, then he looked around a bit. "Where the fuck is my Vespa?" he yelled.

***

Hep and the rest of his now large posse were riding south west. Hep figured they could be in Mobile, Alabama by mid-afternoon, as long as they didn't get side tracked.

The ride to Alabama was dull, because they were on the freeway. Mile after mile of concrete was all they saw. They stopped in Montgomery for lunch. They ate at a place called Dreamland Barbeque, and ate as many ribs as they could cram into themselves.

In the parking lot, a man in a fedora and trench coat was sitting in a brown, late-model Lincoln Town Car, smoking and waiting.

***

That morning, the man in the hat left the other car, and swiped the scooterist's Vespa. He rode around Atlanta until he saw a car he liked, then used the strange key he'd been given to open the Lincoln, start it, and drive away. He wished he'd always had a key that was so handy. He could unlock and start any vehicle he wanted. He resolved to steal flashier cars once this was all over with. Maybe a Corvette, or a Lotus if he could find one.
The woman who had given him the key told him to follow a bunch of bikers, keep an eye on them, and report back to her every day on their activities. He was also supposed to keep his eyes peeled for anyone trying to interfere with them. If necessary, he was to step in and interfere with them. Which is how the red-shirt wound up in the trunk of his previous car.

He had to admit, it was a pretty sweet gig. He would swipe a car he liked, stay a few cars behind the bikers, and keep an eye on things. The lady had given even him a cell phone, so he didn't have to find quarters to use payphones or anything. So far, it was the best job he'd ever had.

***

Once the crew were finished eating, and had paid up, the went out to the parking lot. They were very surprised to see Jeb standing there across the street. He'd gotten some new clothes, but he looked awfully tired, and about ready to either loose his temper or start crying.

"Are you going to pay me the rest of the fucking money you owe me, or did you just miss us?" Scroat asked him.

"Jeb, what the hell are you doing here?" Hep asked.

"Damn, that son of a bitch is quick!" Dave commented to Too Tall.

Jeb started to cross the street towards them, when he got hit by a garbage truck. The truck didn't even have time to slow down. Hep and Scroat couldn't believe their eyes.

"Man, that guy has the worst luck," Hep said.

"Shit, he got off light. If he'd gotten over here without the money he owes me, and a damn good explanation for why he's been trying to screw us over and help Seth, I reckon he'd wish he'd stepped in front of a garbage truck instead," Scroat said.

Since Jeb had shown remarkable resilience to pain and dismemberment in the past, they decided it would be best to just get moving. Hep was rather annoyed by Jeb's appearance, because he'd wanted to stop and see Hank William's grave since they were in the area.

Soon they were back on the freeway headed for Mobile. They rode hard and fast, hoping to get a good head start on Jeb and any other goons Seth might have after them.

The man in the town car behind them had his work cut out for him trying to keep up. He usually tried to keep about 3 cars behind, but they were moving fast enough that it was all he could do to stay less than 10 cars behind. He decided to swipe a more nimble car in Mobile.

***

Jeb managed to peel himself off the truck, and convince the hysterical driver that he was really ok. The garbage man insisted the Jeb let him drive him to a hospital, but Jeb refused and walked away.

"How the hell am I going to explain the damage to the truck?" the garbage man yelled after him.

"I don't really care," Jeb replied, and kept walking. He had to try and catch up with Hep and Scroat again. Jeb didn't even want to think about what kind of pain Seth would inflict upon him if he messed up again.

***

The UTMCers needed to stop for gas as soon as they got into Mobile. Hep took the opportunity to go and use a pay phone that was mounted on the side of the gas station's garage. He put a couple coins in the phone, and tried to call Elvis. The phone rang twenty times before Hep gave up. He hung up the phone and turned to walk away, when suddenly the pay phone rang.

Hep turned back and looked at the phone suspiciously. It rang again. And again. He picked up the receiver.

"Hello?" he asked.

"Hep? Is that you?" Elvis asked.

"It sure is. Why the hell aren't you answering your phone?" Hep asked.

"Someone's listening to that line. I don't want anyone to hear what we talk about." Elvis replied.

"Well, how'd you know to call this phone back?" Hep asked.

"Caller ID, my man," Elvis replied. "So I hear Jeb managed to get himself hit by a truck."

"Jeez, Elvis, how'd you find that out? That was only a couple hours ago." Hep said.

"I've got my own people out there keeping an eye on the situation," Elvis said.

"Like Cesear?"

"Yep, like Cesear. Though most of my people are a little better at keeping themselves hidden."

"He is a little obvious, isn't he?" Hep said. He told Elvis that they probably weren't going to stay in Mobile, since it would be better to put as much distance between themselves and Jeb as possible.
Elvis asked where they were heading.

"West, young man," Hep said. Elvis told Hep that they should stay out of New Orleans.

"Why's that?" Hep asked.

"There is an unusually large number of unfriendly types hanging out there, as well as a few whose intentions aren't clear yet." Elvis told him.

"What does that mean?"

"It means stay the hell out of New Orleans. Damn Hep, are you getting stupid or something?" Elvis sounded a bit flustered.

"Are you ok, Elvis?" Hep asked.

"So far, so far," Elvis said. "Seth knows I've been helping you out, and he's been trying to put the frighteners on me. Of course, I've dealt with tougher bubbas than him. I'll be ok, I'm just trying to watch my step."

"No shit? Well, take care of yourself, Elvis," Hep said.

"I always do," Elvis said. "Bye."

Hep heard the phone click, and hung up the receiver. Scroat, Charlie and Dave were waiting nearby, watching him as he walked back.

"So what now?" Dave asked.

"On to Lafayette" Hep said. He walked back to his bike.

They rode west into Mississippi. They passed a gator farm, saw a sign advertising Confederate President Jeff Davis' home, and the World's Largest Rocking Chair. Hep would have liked to stop and check out the rocking chair, but they were in too much of a rush for sightseeing. Scroat, on the other hand, was relieved they were in such a rush so he didn't have to wait around for Hep to check out a big, dumb rocking chair.

***

If Aphrodite had know that Hep was stopping at every tourist trap he could, she wouldn't have been surprised. Hep had always enjoyed seeing other people's huge undertakings. Whenever a new gigantic statue was unveiled in Greece, he was always there, hiding among the crowd. Whenever a new, bigger than ever ship had been built, he had always had to go see it.

Hep was no stranger to gigantic projects himself. He had forged Achilles' shield and armor, after all. It was a pity about his heel, but the shield was truly a sight to behold. It had taken twenty huge bellows to get the fire hot enough, and Hep had sculpted scenes of heaven and earth, cities, fields and cattle on the front of the shield.

Really, when Achilles got killed in such a stupid way, Hep was a bit put out. An arrow to the heel? That was just embarrassing.

***

The man following them was getting annoyed with the Town Car. He'd planned to ditch it and find something else in Mobile, but there hadn't been time. Although the Town Car was plenty fast in a straight line, it turned like a cruise ship, which made darting through traffic next to impossible.

He hoped they'd stop before too long so he could spend some time finding a nice Corvette.