Cowboy Ending - Overdrive: Book One Read Online Free PDF

“hogged”
isn’t fair. There were a couple open ones nearby. I just don’t like
being around people when I am training. This is my place. My zone.
Being left alone so I can focus on the machine, my heart rate and
my stride is important to me.
     
    Plus I didn’t
like the not-so-subtle looks of judgment coming from the ladies
when I got my fat ass within ten feet of them.
     
    Hey. Big dudes
have feelings too.
     
    Finally getting
into a groove I switched on the TV unit built into the treadmill
and tried to distract myself from the wheezing sounds coming from
my lungs.
     
    “… missing girls has increased to fifteen in the last few
months. Police are asking people to be on the lookout for eighteen
year old Candace Cleghorn who was last seen …”
     
    Click.
     
    “… Paul …
You are not the father.”
     
    Screaming
woman, dancing fool, irate crowd.
     
    Click.
     
    “… Set
phasers to stun.”

“Aye aye, sir.”
     
    Seen it.
     
    Click.
     
    “… definitely a tragic story, Susan. We’ll have more information
on the rash of missing girls in Winnipeg after the break. But now
let’s visit with Cathy over at the weather desk. How’s it look
tonight, Cathy?”

“Thanks, Gord. Well it looks like we’re in for another brisk night
in Winnipeg. So if you’re heading out to catch the Jets game make
sure to bundle up. Let’s take a look at our long range forecast
…”

Yup. She’s still hot.
     
    Click.
     
    Click.
     
    Click.
     
    Fucking TV
screen died.
     
    I sighed and
looked up from the built in monitor and into the gym, trying to
find a distraction from my strained body to focus on. Training at
the downtown YMCA had a lot of benefits but not for profit gyms had
a hard time keeping up with equipment malfunctions. Seemed like
every day I had an issue with one of these machines.
     
    Irritating.
     
    It was fairly
busy for a Saturday evening. Most people seemed to get in and out
before dinnertime on the weekends, bringing their kids in to play
on the climbing wall or the jungle gym. So most of the kids left
hanging around at this time of day were of the local neighborhood
variety. Kids from poorer families getting a chance to hang out in
a safe place off the streets.
     
    A sudden squeal
and the sharp smell of burning rubber was the only warning I had
before being lurched forward as the treadmill band slipped it’s
rotors. I caught myself painfully by the forearms on the front
console, only slightly knocking what was left of the wind out of me
on impact.
     
    The ladies on
the cross-trainers ahead of me looked back over their shoulders,
distracted by the noise. Seeing the sweat soaked lard ass clutching
the front of his treadmill console with both trembling arms must’ve
given them an off putting visual. I can only assume that going by
the scrunched noses and unhidden laughter.
     
    At least I
didn’t face plant.

Today.
     
    I stepped off
the treadmill and shook my head.
     
    “You all right,
Joe?”
     
    Tamara was a
bright bubbly ray of light in an otherwise dreary life. Trotting
over to me in a very appealing way in her bright red YMCA staff
shirt and shorty shorts. All of five feet and a few inches tall
with a cute bob of hair. Sporting her red librarian style glasses
and slim, strong legs.
     
    Not that I was
noticing. Friends don’t do that.
     
    I kicked at the
treadmills’ base with a snort. “Can you talk to maintenance, again?
I swear they’re something wrong with these things.”

Tamara hopped up onto the belt and started fiddling with the knobs
and buttons. She frowned slightly, her lower lip pursed as she
concentrated.
     
    “There’s
definitely something weird happening with machines lately,” she
said, motioning down the long line of treadmills. “Seems like every
third one is on the fritz for one reason or another.”
     
    The shoulder of
my t-shirt made a convenient facecloth as I wiped away some sweat
to hide a grimace. “Seems like every third one is the one