Chapter 427

• I pull up to the first motel I see and park my bike near the front door. My knees are wobbly as I slide off the seat, and I pause to stretch my arms and legs. Usually, I try not to be on the road so long, but shit happens.
• The glass door is so light that a strong breeze could throw it open. I yank it shut behind me, then pass under a flickering light and wrinkle my nose at the very obvious scent of mildew beneath the pungent odor of bleach. Just another run-down hovel clinging to capitalism, like all the dozens of other places I’ve lain my head.
• “Need a room,?