Wild Strawberry: The Motorcycle Diaries Read Online Free Page B

truck.
                  Terry, who was now in the lead, signalled to the others that he was stopping, and he came to a halt in the middle of the road.
                  “What do you think?” He asked once the others had stopped beside him.
                  Terry pointed to the farmhouse; Troy and Jeffrey looked and nodded agreement.
                  “I like the truck,” said Troy, “if we have to leave it’ll be a mobile fortress.”
                  “Yeah,” agreed Jeffrey, “but we need to be careful.  We have to ask, what is the truck doing down such a small road in the first place?   There must be some one around…”
                  “…alive or dead,” cut in Terry, finishing Jeffrey’s sentence.
                  Joe did not say anything, nor look up from where his face was buried in Jeffrey’s back.
                  “Joe?” Terry asked, “what do you think?”
                  Jeffrey shook his head, and Terry turned back to the house.
                  “So what’s the plan?” Asked Terry, looking hopefully to Troy and Jeffrey.
                  “How’s this?”  Jeffrey spoke slowly, thinking aloud, “one of us drives round the yard a few times; if anything is in there it will come out after the noise.”
                  “Then what?”
                  “Either we try to kill them,” continued Jeffrey, “or we lead them away from the house, like the Pied Piper of Zombie Town, then lose them and return to a nice, new empty home.”
                  “Jeffrey?”  Terry put a hand on Jeffrey’s shoulder, “you’re a bloody genius.”
                  Jeffrey smiled grimly.  “All we need to decide is should we all play Pied Piper, or just nominate one of us?”
                  “I’ll do it!” Troy volunteered.
                  “Troy darling!”  Jeffrey looked shocked, “you could get killed.”
                  “I could get killed waiting round here.  But I’m the best biker here, especially off-road.  You know it makes sense.  If any of us can do it, it’s gonna be me.”
                  Terry grinned, and said, “I want to argue with you about being the best biker, but I’m not going to!”
                  “Fuck, Troy, are you sure?”
                  “Yep,” Troy nodded, “just get of sight behind that hedge, and get ready to make a swift getaway if a hundred of them come running out.”
                  So saying, Troy kicked off and revved his engine noisily, heading down the small road towards the house.  He skidded round the garden, circled the house and made as much noise as possible.
                  Feeling confident, Troy pulled a wheelie the length of the garden, but almost crashed when they appeared: two creatures burst out of the front door of the house.
                  One looked almost comically like a stereotypical farmer, in its white shirt with rolled up sleeves, and black waistcoat.  It was paunchy and bald, and its bushy sideburns framed a mouth dripping with saliva and blood.
                  The other creature, also male, was wearing a torn denim jacket and jeans.  Half of its face was missing: the flesh hanging in flaps like a tattered curtain.
                  “Love the denim look darling!” Troy quipped sardonically, as he steadied his bike and tried to steady his nerves.
                  They were running directly for him, his turning space was very limited.  He looped round the truck, hoping they would stick together and maybe do a few loops before heading off down the road.
                  However, without warning, a third creature leapt out from the front of the truck.  Troy’s instinct had been to turn