Read Online Green Ice: A Deadly High by Christian Fletcher - Free Book Online
Authors: Christian Fletcher
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next to the passenger door. The guy shuffled half a step away and Mancini had to bump the guy out of the way to get inside the car.
Trey hopped over the side of the door without opening it, receiving a constant glare from the guy on his side of the Thunderbird. He gunned the engine and screeched out of the lot back onto the main highway. Mancini noticed a dumpster beside a line of small houses off a side road to the right.
“Turn off here,” he ordered.
Trey didn’t know what he had planned but did as he was told.
“Park up by the dumpster.”
Trey brought the car to a stop beside the fly infested waste container. “Fuck man, something really stinks like shit in there,” he said, holding his hand over his nose.
“Let’s hurry it up then,” Mancini said. “Get changed into your new clothes but don’t leave anything behind in the pockets. Dump your gear in the trash when you’re done.”
“What? I’m not throwing away my clothes, man,” Trey protested. “These things cost like, a lot of green.”
“Do it,” Mancini barked. “Come on, quickly before somebody sees us and wants to know what the hell we’re doing.”
Trey reluctantly complied, changing his clothes while still sitting in the driver’s seat. Mancini stood in the shadows of the nearest house and hurriedly dressed into his new gear. Trey handed him the wet clothing and Mancini stuffed both sets into the dumpster, along with the trash sack full of bloodied wipes from the trunk.
They turned back onto the highway and followed the signs, heading towards Ensenada city center. Mancini took out the map from the glove box and studied the route. He decided they’d make their next stop at the marina. He could make the phone call to his contact from a payphone and arrange a meet. The address La Rat had given him was for a place on a street named ‘ Miramar, ’ with no directions. Mancini surveyed the map and found the street, directly east of the marina.
“I still can’t wrap my head around that girl back there,” Trey sighed. “Why did she change like that? I mean, you saw it yourself, right? She was dead, man.”
“Stop beating yourself up over it, okay,” Mancini replied. “She was attacking us, remember? We did what we had to do.”
“ …And her eyes, man. Her fucking eyes.” Trey forked his fingers at his own eyes and turned to Mancini. “What the fuck was that?”
“Put it out of your mind. Let’s concentrate on what we got to do.” Mancini was also thinking about the incident with the girl but couldn’t allow the recent events to cloud his decisions and judgment.
Highway 1 led them out of El Sauzal and back alongside the coastline. The road was separated in either direction by a palm tree lined central reservation. The traffic remained sparse and Trey kept the Thunderbird at a steady speed. They passed beneath an overhead sign that directed the route to the harbor. Mancini pointed to the right side lane.
“Follow the signs for the harbor and head for the marina,” he said.
Trey followed the lane for the harbor, staring directly ahead at the road and trying to clear his head. The image of the rock smashing the girl’s skull kept playing over and over in his mind like a movie loop.
Mancini glanced around at the scenery. Several construction sites, coastal resorts and industrial centers were situated around the city limits. Ensenada looked as though it was a place on the upward scale. The road bent to the left and the marina honed into view, a few miles further on. Red colored cranes and stacked shipping containers stood high in the distance, to their right. The industrial shipping port receded into the distance and the surroundings became increasingly tourist orientated, with a few small cafes, bars and restaurants sitting opposite a line of angled parking slots. Trey took a right turn onto a one lane route, heading towards a row of gleaming white yachts, bobbing alongside a jetty.
Mancini spotted a roadside
Trey hopped over the side of the door without opening it, receiving a constant glare from the guy on his side of the Thunderbird. He gunned the engine and screeched out of the lot back onto the main highway. Mancini noticed a dumpster beside a line of small houses off a side road to the right.
“Turn off here,” he ordered.
Trey didn’t know what he had planned but did as he was told.
“Park up by the dumpster.”
Trey brought the car to a stop beside the fly infested waste container. “Fuck man, something really stinks like shit in there,” he said, holding his hand over his nose.
“Let’s hurry it up then,” Mancini said. “Get changed into your new clothes but don’t leave anything behind in the pockets. Dump your gear in the trash when you’re done.”
“What? I’m not throwing away my clothes, man,” Trey protested. “These things cost like, a lot of green.”
“Do it,” Mancini barked. “Come on, quickly before somebody sees us and wants to know what the hell we’re doing.”
Trey reluctantly complied, changing his clothes while still sitting in the driver’s seat. Mancini stood in the shadows of the nearest house and hurriedly dressed into his new gear. Trey handed him the wet clothing and Mancini stuffed both sets into the dumpster, along with the trash sack full of bloodied wipes from the trunk.
They turned back onto the highway and followed the signs, heading towards Ensenada city center. Mancini took out the map from the glove box and studied the route. He decided they’d make their next stop at the marina. He could make the phone call to his contact from a payphone and arrange a meet. The address La Rat had given him was for a place on a street named ‘ Miramar, ’ with no directions. Mancini surveyed the map and found the street, directly east of the marina.
“I still can’t wrap my head around that girl back there,” Trey sighed. “Why did she change like that? I mean, you saw it yourself, right? She was dead, man.”
“Stop beating yourself up over it, okay,” Mancini replied. “She was attacking us, remember? We did what we had to do.”
“ …And her eyes, man. Her fucking eyes.” Trey forked his fingers at his own eyes and turned to Mancini. “What the fuck was that?”
“Put it out of your mind. Let’s concentrate on what we got to do.” Mancini was also thinking about the incident with the girl but couldn’t allow the recent events to cloud his decisions and judgment.
Highway 1 led them out of El Sauzal and back alongside the coastline. The road was separated in either direction by a palm tree lined central reservation. The traffic remained sparse and Trey kept the Thunderbird at a steady speed. They passed beneath an overhead sign that directed the route to the harbor. Mancini pointed to the right side lane.
“Follow the signs for the harbor and head for the marina,” he said.
Trey followed the lane for the harbor, staring directly ahead at the road and trying to clear his head. The image of the rock smashing the girl’s skull kept playing over and over in his mind like a movie loop.
Mancini glanced around at the scenery. Several construction sites, coastal resorts and industrial centers were situated around the city limits. Ensenada looked as though it was a place on the upward scale. The road bent to the left and the marina honed into view, a few miles further on. Red colored cranes and stacked shipping containers stood high in the distance, to their right. The industrial shipping port receded into the distance and the surroundings became increasingly tourist orientated, with a few small cafes, bars and restaurants sitting opposite a line of angled parking slots. Trey took a right turn onto a one lane route, heading towards a row of gleaming white yachts, bobbing alongside a jetty.
Mancini spotted a roadside
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