Forum Business > Member Original Diaries

Writing a Story... Appalachia Rising

<< < (2/3) > >>

fordguy_85:
Thanks Alan! So far we've already seen success in getting some folks to come, and hope to continue.

Libertas:
I like it, keep it coming!  ::thumbsup::

IronDioPriest:
 ::thumbsup:: ::thumbsup:: ::thumbsup::

benb61:
Me too.  I already feel invested in the main character and am curious what happened to put him in the situation/predicament that he is in.

fordguy_85:
Chapter 4

As the van pulled into the church parking lot, the man made himself as small as possible under the evergreen shrubs to the side of what had been the handicap ramp to the entrance. Praying he would not be spotted, he continued to watch the van.

After parking, he could hear the sliding door open on the off side of the van, then the shutting of the drivers door as he disembarked. The man counted five sets of feet and his sidearm. Praying he could make it into the scrub across the road without getting hit, the man prepared to make a dash for it.

Just as he was about to roll out from under the bush and run he heard shouting from the van, then a gunshot rang out, echoing loudly in the cold air.

Knowing he couldn't have been seen, he raised up to investigate where the shot had come from. What he saw made his blood boil. For the van was a prisoner transport, and one of the prisoners had tried to make a run for it, nearly making it across the road before taking a round to the back.

Carefully, rifle at the ready, the man eased his way around to the van's rear. Just as he was about to come around the back of the van, he heard one of the CFC thugs speak. "I wish both of you were as 'brave' as your friend there... it'd save us quite a bit of trouble to put a bullet in your ignorant heads instead of shipping your sorry hides all the way to Roanoke."

He heard what he hoped was the guard re-bolstering his pistol and stepped around the van. The driver spotted him, but took two rounds before he could cry out or pull his weapon. Two quick steps had the man's rifle barrel scant inches from the other CFC guard's face. "Go ahead buddy. Nothing would make me happier than to leave you here to rot." He then reversed his rifle, and knocked him out.

Taking the keys from the guard, the man released one prisoner, then handed him the keys to release the other then went to the road and checked the fallen man, who had died practically immediately. Cursing, he pulled him back across the road to the church parking lot.

When he returned, the guard seemed to have picked up a couple broken ribs, had been gagged, and was glaring with an incontinent rage. One of the prisoners handed him his knife back, and said, "Shore am glad you showed up, hoss. We figured we were goners for sure when we pulled in here. My name's Marty, this is Rick. Our friend's name was Dwight."

"Sorry I wasn't in a position to do something sooner, but from where I was, y'alls feet all looked the same, and I wasn't about to take on five CFC's. My name is Preston, and I'm sorry about Dwight."

Navigation

[0] Message Index

[#] Next page

[*] Previous page