Free Tread Fearless: Survival & Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 4) by Kenneth Cary Page A

scanned the area for additional threats. Seeing nothing of concern, he holstered his pistol and said, “Nice move, Mark. You’ve just wasted two bullets, and you’ve made some unnecessary noise.”
    Mark walked over to the moaning white guy and saw that he was still alive, though only barely managing to breathe through his crushed windpipe. The man croaked in ragged gasps and wheezed. Mark had absolutely no sympathy for him, but he was curious, so he knelt by him and asked, “What’s your name, friend?”
    Through clenched teeth the white man said, “Futtth uuuuea,” followed by a cough, and a long, wet gasp.
    “That’s not very polite,” replied Mark. “Do you have any friends in the area?”
    The man didn’t seem to understand Mark’s question, so he repeated it. When the man didn’t answer, Mark concluded that the two thugs were operating alone. Besides, they were too dirty and desperate to beanything more than lone operators. Confident that he wasn’t entering an area patrolled by a gang or some other group, Mark asked, “Do you want me to put you out of your misery?”
    The man stared at Mark coldly but didn’t reply. “Suit yourself,” said Mark. “The coyotes will find you laying here tonight, unless you manage to drag yourself to safety.”
    The man’s eyes went wide and tears began to spill down his cheeks. His struggle for breath became more pronounced. The man was obviously upset. “I’ll tell you what,” said Mark as he stood. “You can keep your pistol. I’ll give it to you when I leave, and you can decide what you want to do with it.”
    Mark picked up the revolver and opened the cylinder, it held only three unfired rounds. He pushed the ejection rod and dumped the brass into his open palm. After reinserting one live round, he closed the cylinder and slipped the pistol into his pocket. The three empty casings, and the remaining live rounds, he placed into his shirt pocket.
    After searching the giant and finding nothing of survival value, Mark returned to his bike. He stood it up and inspected it for damage. He was very familiar with every detail of his bike, for it served as his primary mode of transportation in and around San Antonio for the past few years.
    He actually preferred riding his bike over driving to work. Not only did the south Texas weather support his efforts, but the near daily cycling helped him stay fit and trim. He also liked the fact that he didn’t have to fight for a parking space at the impossibly busy military hospital.
    Though he had never ridden so far with a loaded trailer, it proved to be of little consequence. The single-wheeled trailer handled the challenge better than he hoped it would, and now that he made it to near the outskirts of Austin with a lot less trouble than he expected, even including the delay with the two thugs, Mark began to think he could actually peddle all the way to John’s place, north of Fort Worth.
    But first things first, he had work to do in Austin. He had to find the woman in his vision; the woman who looked eerily like Lisa. Hejust hoped it wouldn’t result in a wild goose chase around or through the unfamiliar city. Dead reckoning would only get him so far, and if he wanted to continue avoiding the heavily populated areas, he needed to find a good map. Of course, his search for the woman might draw him into the heart of the city. And if that was the case, then he would find a place to stash the bike and go light and on foot.
    As for risking further travel during daylight hours, Mark decided to avoid it as much as possible, but traveling at night, without a map, and on back country roads, would more than double his travel time to his intermediate destination, which was Pete’s place. He figured he could reach Pete’s in about two days, but the reality of it was probably more than twice that, and that excluded his search for the woman.
    The mysterious woman had to be found. Mark made it his mission, and he didn’t care how