A Wild Ride by Aaron Solomon (spiritual books to read TXT) 📕

Oath Keepers

A Wild Ride

Chapter One

After nearly five years of living life as a self-trained assassin, desperately searching for the taker of my loved ones’ lives, Kella had gracefully given me the opportunity for even more honest work in the form of a freight conductor position at the pretty good sized Illinois Northern Railroad Company in which she and other companion, Isa had been working alongside each other for quite some time and seemed to enjoy it almost nearly as much as our newfound profession as the city’s second defenders of liberty and justice on the side. So, after about a few weeks long worth of both simulator and field training, here I was preparing for my first day and heading straight down to the Cicero yard and train crew office after dressing in my proper work attire and leaving with Kella at her apartment at around 9:30 AM. I sat down and almost immediately began getting reacquainted with my engineer, Trish Watson or Trish as I called her for short, who I hadn’t seen for quite some years since we were young and crazy, running a complete muck over in the east side projects before my parents deaths. Considering some of the many rather inconceivable and unspeakable things she had done over the course of her lifetime, I could’ve sworn she’d either be in a cage or six feet under. Her parents even put him in a program at the correctional facility as a teen where she made an appearance on that hit show “Beyond Scared Shitless”. However on top of all of this, she was a pretty fun loving and bewitching fox with brilliant orange and black fur and deep sea green eyes that shimmered like the ocean blue. “Well, well.” She purred as I took a seat next to her at the far corner of the round table. “Kari Voucher in the flesh. Never thought I’d see you alive again after what I heard had happened to you on the news four years ago. Thank god there really are such things as miracles in this world.” “Thanks.” I said placing a sibling like paw on her shoulder. “But for things like that, I mostly just go by the golden rule of the street: ya can’t keep a good sista down.” Trish chuckled. “I thought we both agreed to never speak of that life again.” She said. “You and me, we’re both in the best of business and making an honest living now.” “I know.” I smiled. “But it at least couldn’t hurt to touch up on just some of the things we’ve been through in our pasts.” When it was time to head out with our train of the day, the daily crude oil one, we picked up our satchels with all of our belongings and made our way out to the crewhauler where we were carted to our long haul nearly two and a half minutes later and pulled out right on schedule as planned.

Chapter Two

After delivering our loads to the Norfolk and Atlantic interchange in Springville, we hunkered down at the local motel six a few blocks north and got a bit of good night’s rest before we would make the return trip with the empties back to Cicero yard late the next morning. I rose at 6:59 AM, about a good three or four hours short of our set wakeup time of 10:30, to my cell phone ringing the good old familiar tone of “Man in the Mirror” by Michael Jackson. I snatched it up and stifled a yawn before answering, “Yeah?” “Trisha Watson?” A deep, mildly distorted voice said over the other end that I could tell was the product of some kind of voice changer. “Who is this?” I asked, a cold spot suddenly beginning to form in the pit of my stomach. “That’s not important.” The voice responded with a small bit of hostility present in its tone. “What’s important is saving you from what lies around the next curve.” “What? What are you talking about?” I said, confusion and agitation now plaguing my usual calm and collective voice as I shot a glance over to Kari in the bed nearest to mine. The voice sighed, most likely in annoyance and frustration and replied, “Turn on your TV and the answer you’ll soon see.” I did exactly as I was told and became mortified almost instantly when the dreaded words beneath the footage of a raging fire and thick, black smoke clouds read “Oil train derails just outside of Springville, IL”. As if the animal over the other end could somehow see the expression plastered on my face as I watched in sheer horror, the voice said, “I know. Very shocking indeed. I’m at the diner about a block or two from the motel you’re staying at. Meet me there in about ten minutes. I have a very important matter about this I’d like to discuss with you.” They hung up and I quickly rushed over to the closest and began throwing my work attire on as fast as my body would allow me, ignoring the concerned look on Kari’s face as I laced up my boots and rushed out the door to Shelly’s which was just around the corner.

Chapter Three

I stepped serenely into the little pint sized diner and was just barely able to scope out the place well enough when a paw reached out from one of the booths all the way to the rear of the establishment and silently motioned me over to them. I slowly made my way over, only to meet a jet black jackal staring up at me with crystal blue eyes and flashing a halfhearted smile at me as I took a seat in his booth directly in front of him. “Forgive me if this question sounds a bit rude or anything,” I said. “But who are you?” “A friend.” He replied simply. “I worked in your position on the Norfolk and Atlantic Railway about five to six years ago and believe I could be of assistance to your little problem.” “Really?” I retorted. “And just what might that be?” “Well.” He said. “That derailment you saw on the news this morning that happened here, I believe it was no accident.” “What?” “Someone’s sabotaged the wheelsets on some of the tank cars before they went out on the road. How there doing it is the big question. But I do have at least a bit of an idea who. The Wild Ones.” “The Wild Ones? You mean that homeland terrorist group that bombed that all canine church on Chicago’s south side?” “That’s the one.” He said. “I used to deal a few arms for them back when I was working for the La Grippe cartel or what now remained of it.” I was a little surprised at this and was now a bit unsure if I could trust a canine who once belonged to one of the most notorious and feared drug running organizations this country has ever known. “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I replied. “You mean to tell me you sold weapons to the biggest fish of killing assemblies in the entire Midwest?” “Hey.” Said the jackal. “At least I’m honest about it. Let’s just say over the years I’ve done a lotta shit that I’m definitely not too proud of and paid for it with some time in an iron cage and almost with my life.” “Yeah. Smile now, cry later.” I said. “Right now, you’re coming with me back to the motel six and then back to Chicago where we can all meet up. I have a certain few I’d very much like you to meet.” “Lead the way, Miss.” The Jackal answered affirmatively and we turned and made our way out the door to the motel on Crawford Street.

Chapter Four

“Get that trash back to the shit reeking cesspool he belongs.” Kella growled, referring resentfully to the black jackal at Kari and I’s side. “Whoa. Easy there. I’m not looking for a fight.” He replied. “I’m on your side and I’m here to help.” “Bullshit.” Kella said bluntly in disbelief. “I’ll believe that when the sky starts falling down. Why are you really here, Fang?” “Hold up. Time out.” I cut in. “You know him, Kella?” “Like hell I do.” She retorted. “He and his lackeys tried to take over our rail system years ago when I was living down on the east coast and nearly succeeded had it not been for my friend, Aaron and another train crew who was with him at the time to put an end to his reign of revenge fueled terror.” “I’ve looked in the mirror and made a change, Kella.” Fang told her. “I can assure you, almost being laid to rest six feet underground and spending six years in a small, padded cell will make even the most black hearted animal on this earth at least think about embracing their second chance at life.” “Come on, Kella.” Isa said, her golden yellow eyes glazed with full understanding and compassion for the Jackal. “He owes a debt to society. Surely you of all wolves could be so kind as to at least give him this one and only chance to repay it.” Kella sighed and paced the floor in deep thought for a moment and then finally composed herself and said, “Okay, Danny boy. You’ve just bought yourself some time. But if you so much as fuck up even once, I’ll have your ass locked back up so fast your feet won’t even have a chance to touch the floor.” “I won’t.” Fang replied, now munching mightily on a large bag of salt and vinegar chips that seemed to magically appear in his paws. Even Kella didn’t remember seeing him with any when he came in and eyed him rather suspiciously. “Where did you get those?” She asked. “Oh, they were just, you know, lying around.” He answered with a smug smile. “I thought it was usually a tradition in everyone’s house to always lay out free food for the guests.” Kella’s suspicious look suddenly turned to an irritated scowl and Fang looked back at her, shrugging his shoulders confusedly. “What?” He asked. “I was hungry.” “Alright, alright.” Isa said. “Let’s get down to business. Who’s the guy we’re looking for in charge of the Wild Ones?” “Guy named Chance Ocean.” Fang replied. “Best in the homeland terrorist slash feline supremacist business. His obsession with feline power is soon going to be his end.” “Great. So I guess he thinks he’s above the law as well, huh?” Isa cut in, staring hard at the picture of the blue eyed Siberian tiger on the screen of Kella’s desktop. “Well, we’ll surely fix that.” “No doubt.” Said Fang. “But we need to exercise caution. Bastard’s got pretty much all the felines on the west side of the city cozying up to him and I have almost no doubt we’ll run ourselves into some serious resistance.” “Good.” Kella answered. “Guess it’s time to suit up then and give these fuckers the hell they’ve been asking for.” We wasted no time slipping on our sleek but highly grade armored black jumpsuits and affixed the black bandannas over our muzzles for identity concealment and then quickly made our way down the stairs and out the door of Kella’s apartment to her sedan in the lot where we sped off for Ulysses’ casino over on the west side.

Chapter Five

“One last chance, kitty boy.” I cooed to the caracal who was the owner of the casino. “Just tell us where your good old boy boss, Chance is and we’ll be outta here all cool and quiet like.” The caracal who I assumed