Run into Trouble by Alan Cook Page B

from a
phone booth.”
    “Yeah, just like you paid for all those
drinks you owe me. It’ll be a cold day in hell… Speaking of hell,
where the hell are you?”
    “California.”
    “Since you flunked geography you wouldn’t
know that there’s a three-hour time difference.”
    “You never go to bed before midnight, unless
you’ve suddenly gotten senile. I need your help.”
    “That’s not new. I bailed you out your whole
career. What’s the matter now?”
    “I’m in a race called Running California.
You ever hear of it?”
    “Not a chance. It sounds crazy, just like
you.”
    “It’s being sponsored by a privately owned
company called Giganticorp.”
    “I have a vague hit on that one. I think
they supply military products to the government.”
    “I need more information on them and their
CEO, Casey Messinger. He just announced he’s running for senator
from California?”
    “You mean in nineteen seventy? That’s more
than a year away.”
    Drake heard a woman’s voice in the
background asking who was on the phone.
    “Did you get married?”
    “Hell no.”
    “Another thing. Somebody—or some group—may
be betting on Running California.” Drake filled him in quickly on
the details, not mentioning the note or the demands. “I need any
information you can give me on that.”
    “When I find out something—if I find out
something—where can I reach you?”
    “I’ll have to call you. We’re on the
move.”
    “I supposed you’ll call collect.”
    “Probably. Oh, and there’s one more thing.
Do you remember Melody?”
    “How could I forget that babe? Although what
she saw in you I’ll never know.”
    “She’s in the race. She’s been having
trouble reaching her mother in England, and she’s worried about
her. Do you think you could have an agent check up on her?”
    “I’ll see what I can do. Give me her
mother’s address.”
    Drake did that. “Thanks for the help. I owe
you one.”
    “You owe me more than you can ever
repay.”
    “Say hello to your squeeze for me.”
    “Go fuck yourself.”

    CHAPTER 8
    We have obtained permission for you to run
through Camp Pendleton on the beach. This is an isolated but
beautiful area, and you should enjoy having the beach to yourselves
much of the time. Near the north end of Camp Pendleton there is a
bathing suit optional beach, but you should be used to this by now.
You will have to go up to the road to detour around the San Onofre
Nuclear Power Plant. We will post a race official on the beach at
the path you should use to exit at the power plant. After passing
San Onofre go back to the beach and continue to San Clemente State
Beach. You will be leaving San Diego County and entering Orange
County at this point.
    ***
    Drake was up before the wakeup call at six,
stretching his sore back muscles. Stretching through the lingering
pain. If he were going to stay in this race, he wanted to do more
than cover the distance; he wanted to compete. Even if they could
narrow the time differential that the other teams were beating them
by each day, that would make him feel he was accomplishing
something.
    His body felt a little looser. The good news
was that after three days of running he hadn’t suffered any new
problems. Actually, to say that they were running was wishful
thinking—their average pace hadn’t been more than that of a brisk
walk.
    He put on his running clothes and then a
sweat suit to ward off the morning chill. As he was about to leave
the room, he noticed the note he had scribbled to himself in the
middle of the night. Nighttime ideas disappeared like the stars
when the sun rose. Now if he could only read it. He finally decided
it was the letters BB. For “bulletin board.”
    He took the threatening note from the
envelope in the suitcase Giganticorp had purchased to replace the
one burned in the accident and went out to the lobby. He handled
the paper with the sleeve of his sweatshirt, belatedly being
careful to not leave more