Pure Dynamite Read Online Free Page A

instructions.
    Uncertain of which direction they were to head to meet Lyle's family, and wary of traveling in broad daylight, Adam pulled into a state campground. Though most of the park was high and dry, it was closed because of the flooding.
    After hiding the car in the woods, he broke into one of the bathhouses. They showered and changed clothes, which made Adam feel almost human.
    When Lyle finally reached Nevin, he was given directions to a commercial storage lot in Durham. They had headed south and were now less than fifty miles from where they'd escaped, which the cops probably wouldn't expect.
    A light rain started as Adam pulled up to the after- hours gate at the storage lot. He and Lyle had watched the place for nearly an hour, keeping an eye open for anything or anyone out of place.
    They couldn't wait any longer. The radio had just broadcast a news alert of their escape that included a report of the nondescript Taurus. No license plate number was given. With what seemed like every third car on the road being a Taurus, it wasn't much for law enforcement to go on, but it was more than Adam was comfortable with.
    It was also safe to assume their mug shots had been flashed on the evening news. Not that many people would be watching. Over half the area remained without electricity.
    A cheap neon closed sign flickered in the window of the lot's office, proof that the place had power. Adam punched in the four-digit security code Lyle rattled off. The electric gate took forever to open, shuddering and stalling twice before slowly heaving sideways an inch at a time.
    The storage lot had five long buildings crowded on it with each building holding thirty or so units. Adam passed the first building. They were looking for 18C.
    "God, we're almost home free," Lyle said. "I don't know what I want more. A piece of ass or a decent meal. I know I want a beer with either one. What about you?"
    Adam snorted at the irony. Lyle wasn't even old enough to buy alcohol. "I'll settle for a safe place to sleep."
    "Then what? You haven't said what you're doing beyond this."
    "That's right."
    "I know you wanted out of prison before they got something else on you. Something big," Lyle continued. "I couldn't figure it out until I saw that high-tech radio jammer. That had to be military. Stolen?"
    "Borrowed." Adam slowed the car. "What's your point, kid?"
    Lyle tried to act nonchalant and failed . "A guy with that kind of access could make a lot of money—provided he hooked up with the right buyer."
    "Who says I'm not?"
    "Nobody. But you did say your old partner is hesitant."
    "For now. He knows the cops will put two and two together and come looking for him when they investigate our escape."
    "See? That's exactly what I mean. Being a fugitive can put a crimp in things; might scare off your customers, too."
    "Temporarily, maybe. Long term it won't matter."
    "But what about short term, man? I know several buyers who'd pay top dollar for hardware like that jammer."
    "You? Or your daddy?" Adam didn't hide his skepti cism. "If half of what you told me about your family is true, I doubt they need another supplier."
    "More than half of it's true," Lyle defended. "And for the record, I was asking for myself. I've been thinking about striking out on my own."
    Adam glanced sideways. "Back up a minute. Which half of what you've told me isn't true?"
    "Not much."
    "Define much."
    "Well, fuck-a-duck. I was going to tell you later." Lyle shifted in his seat. "My old man didn't want me breaking out. Can you believe that? He's been in prison before. He knows what it's like."
    Lyle's admission shocked Adam. Family was religion to the McEdwins. In fact, the theme of Lyle's life was blood is thicker. His incessant chatter about family, loyalty, and ties binding father to son, brother to brother, drove Adam nuts. That and all his talk about his brothers' blood oath to not be captured alive.
    "Are you saying your father wanted you to stay in the pen?"
    "Not exactly.