On Java Road Novels & Stories

Rough, scorching. "Get in, I'll give you a ride back." It was a modified Ford Raptor, its chassis ridiculously high, the whole vehicle a matte black, looking like an armored beast straight off a battlefield. The engine roared as we sped down Route 66. The wind was strong, carrying red dust. Jasper steered with one hand, the other holding a half-smoked cigar, casually resting on the open window. "See that dry river valley over there?" He pointed with his cigar to the red rock walls outside the window.

He stood and wandered away. Donnie leaned forward, and Johnny huddled closer. “I think I have a possible ID on a suspicious vehicle.” Johnny shifted to focus on the screen as Donnie continued. “I’ve run images from ATM cameras, a compound camera and a traffic cam on the route. This road leads to the A104 freeway. A black van with tinted windows flashed amongst traffic on three different occasions. If I’ve calculated correctly, it’s going way too fast. A secondary vehicle following close behind is also tinted.”

I wondered if Matthew was getting updates from Colin. I drove as far as the pack house and was met by one of the pack, someone I didn’t recognize, who jogged up to the car and bent down to the window. “Keep going along that little road north,” he said without preamble. “They’re waiting for you up there.” He stepped back, and I hit the gas and followed his directions. The ‘road’ was generously named, even with the ‘little’ qualifier, and the Honda jolted and jounced over more potholes than I could count. Tree branches scraped the sides of the car.

We only saw his car packed. I was about to place a call when he suddenly sent me a footage, adding a note to it. I think Mr. Jaxon might be linked to the accident that occurred at road 23, Belleville road, New York city.

“Don...that’s drunk driving!” “Drunk driving?” he hissed, eyes blazing with bloodshot fury. “Fuck the rules. I only want Aria.” The engine howled. He pushed the car past its limits, racing through empty roads until the world blurred into nothing. At the edge of the wilderness, he finally braked. And his shoulders shook. And the Don...the man who could raze empires...broke down and cried.

"All right. We'll do it your way." With that, Carl looked to the driver, his voice cool and steady. "Change route. Head to New York International Racing Circuit at top speed. Avoid congested roads and get there as soon as possible." The driver nodded. Moments later, the sedan accelerated smoothly; the steering wheel shifted slightly as they entered the highway access toward New York. The route that had been heading for the border area turned decisively, the car surging toward the bustling clamor of New York.

he said, and got into his truck. I got into the Jeep and started driving towards Lowell Point Road slowly. I could see George’s crumpled up car on the side of the road and my head turned to look at the wreckage as I drove past it. Levi flashed his lights at me, and I sped up. I turned onto Lowell Canyon Drive, and Levi continued straight on to First Avenue, toward his house.

"My daughter died on this day." Faye immediately nodded. "We know. After the rescue, we'll all visit Maya together." "Please," Wanda sobbed. "You've saved so many children. Save Andy too. This is his only chance." Before I could answer, an engine roared nearby. A car pulled up in front of us. The door opened. Jayden stepped out, his sharp gaze locking onto my face.

Unfortunately, her worst fears came true. After leaving, James and the others moved to a corner to gossip about Beatrice. "Damn, do you think Ms. Thorne has some kind of special kink? I can't believe she's into that boy toy." James, well into his 50s, was the first to break the silence. Ignatius McKinney clicked his tongue. "I guess that's the kind of man young women prefer these days." James shook his head, confusion evident on his face. "Mr. Bainbridge was honestly far better. He's smart, capable, and, most importantly, knows how to read a room.

*Rob* After years in the military, I consider myself comfortable with GPS and getting around in new places. But following the GPS directions to the Hammond farm, even coming from a place as small as the college community around St. Mary’s, I feel like I’m navigating every rat run and Bob’s Road in the county. In the stretch of about a mile, I’m certain I’ve passed the entirety of the town. The endless acres of snow-dusted fields along either side of this graveled road I’m driving are starting to make me worried I’ve missed it when suddenly a building drifts out of the gloom up ahead and to my left.