Bounty

Chapter 2
Whole in the wall

The engine roared to a stop when the Harley rolled to rest in front of a rustic looking hotel, more aptly called a motel since it did not have bag boys as much as it did bag thieves. And it was nowhere near a five star establishment, more like a five roach inn. “Disgusting” would be the word on most peoples lips when they crossed this little roach motel that sat just off an exit from the highway. Where the cheating lawyers would go to spend time with their little mistresses for only twenty- five bucks a night. Pretty cheap for an ongoing screw if you asked them.
But for Alexa it was home… for tonight at least. Tomorrow she would be off searching for some other beastie or bad guy to kill for her pay check, and that would most likely call her away to some other part of the state, country or maybe even world. She guessed being a bounty hunter had its perks.
After parking her bike in a place where it was hidden from thieves, and walking through the lobby-slash- room of the motel, not even bothering to give the owner of this hole in the wall a passing glance, and moving up the one flight of stairs and into the hallway where room number “69” was displayed on the door. In actuality it was room number “66” but the second six hung from only one screw, but Alexa hadn’t bothered alerting the super about it, she would be gone before he got there to fix it and besides she sort of liked the suggestiveness that the new number gave off. She found herself in the room she’d inhabited for the past two nights. Now that she’d found her bounty and done what she had come to do, it was about time for her to be moving on to the nearest office of her “employer”.
He was known to have quote, “One on every corner” but even for him that proved to be a bit of a stretch. But there were quite a few. And the weird thing about it is that you could never find him in any of his offices. She guessed he was like Charlie and she was just one of his Angels. Or at least she liked to think like that.
Her room was no exception to the stereo-type motel room that these types of places were more than famous for. The carpets were stained with some kind of dark brown stuff that Alexa had instantly recognized as dried blood when she’s first entered the place. The bed smelled of old sex and all kinds of dirtiness that Alexa was sure she’d get a disease from had she even thought about sleeping on that mattress. Instead she slept on a sleeping bag that she carried in her duffle then thoroughly washed until the viruses and bacteria was burned from the fabric. But in a place like this she would be forced to burn the bag and buy a new one. There was a bathroom on the right side of the room, one with such cramped quarters that it would have been hard to stand upright in, no less take a shower. There was a toilet that Alexa had managed to refrain from using simply because it looked to house more feces than her entire body could muster up at any given moment. Back allies had served her just as well in these last few days. The sink was no cleaner, the while “marble” that made up its surface now yellow and molded with what Alexa hoped wasn’t urine. She hoped it wasn’t but knew it was. Above the sink was a mirror with a medicine cabinet behind it that held condoms and some kind of ointment, that Alexa knew the visitors here used for other things. Other than that the room was pretty much empty, the bed taking up as much space as it possibly could in the room that was no bigger than a matchbox. Or better yet a sardine can. Alexa felt like a sardine. But she liked cramped spaces where she was alone with her thoughts and weapons. But this place was just ridiculous.
She shed her long leather jacket and hung it on a makeshift hook near the door, she’d made the night before when she’d needed it, by stabbing the wall with one of her knives. The army style leather boots came off next but only for long enough to get her pants off before they were slid right back on. She couldn’t risk her bare feet touching this floor. God only knew what had been on it. Pant less she made her way to the bathroom, shedding the black tank top on the way. When in the shower here the water was cranked up to its highest temperature, which was about fifty six degrees give or take a degree or two, depending on who flushed at which interval of the shower, and the underwear stayed on at all times. The bra would follow suit with the tank top but the panties would stay on no matter what, she’d change from the wet ones to the dry ones when she got out. No need to get a venereal disease from just brushing something up against something else.
Tomorrow she would blow this joint and set off for the office of “Burg and associates” where a Mr. Richard Burg was the Burg and she was the associate. It would be there she would receive her next target and set off on another “adventure” as the writers call it.