REEVES AND his team were packing their gear into the red Mustang while the Jamaicans heaved a drum of gasoline into the back of an SUV for the journey. Marlin came over to say goodbye to his confidant—both of them went on a short walk, passing by mirth rebel members who were also packing up to leave the Mojave Desert to their next destination of war in New Orleans.
Reeves apologized several times that he cannot bring him along as part of the cell-group designated for California—the blond youth responded back...
"It is okay, Reeves—Louisiana is much closer to Washington in the east, and it is good news that I am heading towards that way. I will still be clueless when I get there too; Dr Morris is no longer the head of the Pan American Health Organization. She is totally off the grid; I tried locating her online in various search-engines but her whereabouts since then are unknown..."
They both sighed deeply at those setbacks and spoke with some sense of disappointment in their voices—their grand-plan to head to Washington together to search for both of their mothers has been disrupted when events and decisions kept changing rapidly in the rebel camp since the Rosewood's assassination.
The annoyed Marlin further added, "as long as that bitch Cory is alive, we will all be continued to be hunted by every one of her hound dog agency." Reeves forced a dissembled smile, agreed with sad nods...
He has a bad feeling that this will be the last time that he would see his newfound friend who was now enlisted to fight in the warzone.
"But the way I see it, it is a clear trap, Marlin; you will all be walking into Cory's snare—and I wish you that you will find a way to escape while on the road before you reach the New Orleans city limits."
Marlin had thought about it earlier of being an AOG deserter—but he decided that it was best to remain in the group to New Orleans rather than being hunted while on the run from both Cory's patrolling enforcers and also from Li Chi's death penalty threat imposed to any of the captured runaway poltroon rebels...
He also knows that he was being followed lately by the Chinese spies in the OGA rebel camp since his close association with Reeves—he had the similar intuition from the similar problem before with the Asians—evading the Japanese back then while he was dating 'one of theirs' five years ago
.
"Then do your best to stay alive, Marlin—because ultimately you still need to find Dr Jane Morris in DC—only she knows where your mother is hidden from Cory's administration."
"Yeah, you too, Reeves, when this is all over—we will also try to locate your mother too—in the meantime, I will get you the relevant information beforehand on Laura Jensen once I reach DC, stay in touch." the blond Intersexual assured back.
*
From afar, Li Chi spied on Marlin and Reeves who were together—observing both of them shaking hands before parting ways. The Chinese leader headed to Zinga who was in the driver's seat of the SUV and he cautioned him...
Stolen novel; please report.
"Zinga, you better keep an eye on that Jensen—he is a cunning bastard who will try to escape while on the road. That goes to his team too—if they try to run away, just shoot to kill."
Zinga responded with ire, "most definitely Mon, I hate dis idea of playing wet-nurse to dis nancy-boys in California. I hunger for war and want to fight along with di rest of you all in New Orleans—it is payback time, Mon. I badly want to be part of dis historical victory when we take out the Snake-woman—that bitch had put many of us in Tombscradle for all those 6 years—and I want to gut her right from her heart and straight down to her cunt."
The blacks and the Hispanic were in that Tombscradle prison a year earlier before Cory started her semen milking scheme in Texas.
"But I can't object di direct orders given by di Council, especially when it comes straight from my leader Hajja...but who knows, if I get bored or if things go sideways in my journey to California, I might just gut those 4 white motherfuckers and leave them behind as road-kill—and then I head back east to join you all in claiming our long-awaited victory in the warzone."
Zinga laughed out while the iniquity Li Chi grinned—he thought of the glorious hero's tales spoken in AOG camp of how the Jamaicans tortured the loathed Head of Guards Capt. Olsen of the Aryan Nation by amputating her every limb in Tombscradle recently...
'Maybe this kin of Roberta Jensen should share that same fate.'
**
A few hours later, a Mustang, an SUV and four motorbikes travelled the road to California. Reeves and True Bob rode on two motorbikes while the other two were ridden by two Jamaicans. Joe and Troy were in the Mustang tailing Zinga and Busta in the SUV—the Rastafarians smoked a reefer and were tripping to the olio of Marley's 'Buffalo Soldier' playing on the stereo.
Another convoy led by a Hummer with Doran, Hajja, Ramirez and Li Chi and hundreds of stolen vehicles were heading east. Inside one of the buses was the enlisted Marlin looking out of the window...
The urbane figure remained quiet among the uncouth and myopic OGA rebels—they were drunk and smoked-up while singing self-composed paean and bellowing out the chorus like inebriated Vikings warriors who were heading to conqueror and plunder the new world of their birthright freedom from the dominatrix run government.
Although it has been a month out from F-Block after his five years of isolation Marlin had learned so much about the multifarious nonesuch Preacher since he got out of prison—of how the priest-monk from a humble abbey has now become the fearsome leader of more than five thousand mobocracies ruled criminals...
But Marlin felt like he was now a sort of a hostage of this do-or-die 'divine cause' even though he rather be at the moment with the scientific research group that his mother was clandestinely into with their rummaging for the cure to the Medusa Virus—he has many glowing dreams while in prison alone—of reversing evolution when someday the extinct male species will be whole again and walk on the earth again.
He was lost again in his thoughts while he soul-searched, recalling the conversation he had with Reeves earlier—he envisioned the awaited death of the thousands of the conscription Intersexual of OGA rebels in New Orleans by the hands of Cory's well prepared and equipped enforcers—multiplying the effect of the attacks in comparison to the recent assaults succumbed in Tombscradle...
Tactically, Reeves was right of finding a diversion to his escape...
**
Many hundreds of miles away in the east, a female prisoner sat with her head bowed down, her feet were drawn to her chest on her single bunk bed. Her subtle sobs were heard, a newspaper was scattered on the floor with the headlines...
'FORMER PRESIDENT ROSEWOOD SLAIN.'
She wiped her tears and looked up—Dr. Jane Morris, the once respectable epidemiologist was in her prisoner clothing; looking older and haggard after the five long years in a women correction facility in Washington D.C.