Thought I'd put up an excerpt. Below is the first scene, completely raw and unedited. Just for giggles.
Enough - it's time to go get some sleep. The total for the day is 4,534, the total for the story is 32,247, according to Word. And would they lie?
*N.S.T. - Novelists' Standard Time - Like Musicians' Standard Time - requires a somewhat flexible view of what a normal schedule is. Doesn't work well if your day job involves asking if people want fries with that.
Chapter 1
Scene 1 ---------------------------
Shannon loved riding home late at night; correction, early in the morning. There was no one on Sand Hill Road as her legs pumped, muscles straining, pedaling up the slope to the main part of the campus; a sheen of perspiration covered her forehead, but it didn't matter – she loved the exercise and it cleared the cobwebs from her mind, a transition from work to home. She sniffed – Jasmine was in bloom. She loved it – it was as if the road wore perfume. Her slacks flapped – that and the sound of the chain walking its way around the sprockets were all that broke the night's quiet. An occasional late researcher headed off campus, or a Silicon Valley denizen making his shareholders rich were her sole company, their headlights dwarfing the LED flasher. After they flew by she rode by starlight – her night vision was excellent, more than enough to see her way. The lonely street lamps stretched over the blocks ahead, dropping the little pools of light her mental compass sought. The time beeped on her watch and she groaned. Two AM – hopefully Randy had fallen asleep or he would be really pissed. He hated it when she rode home alone at this hour. As if someone would find her attractive enough to ravage. Her attractiveness was her mind. Her beautiful mind, he called it. She hoped she wasn't as loopy as the cryptographer in the movie.
She wasn't paying attention to the ride except on the animal level that keeps humans surviving - she was lost reviewing tonight’s experiments. The accelerator was old, ancient by modern standards, but still capable of sustaining new work. She pretty much had it to herself – all the other young researchers had wangled a grant to work at CERN, not understanding the concepts she'd stumbled into – fundamental particles might not need all the energy in the world to isolate them if she was right. The proof would be in her research – if she could isolate the smallest particles in this small old machine anyone could do it. It would change the way particle physics research operated. The wind of her passage blew through her curly blond hair, its perpetual state of disarray flowing behind her. There had been some anomalous data points... A truck roared past her, one of those big pickups with noisy tires. A leering face poked out of the passenger's window as it passed, and she was glad when it kept going. She was plainly dressed, and bundled up in her bulky jacket, but a girl never knew. She pedaled faster, seeking civilization of some kind. One of these days she would simply have to learn how to drive. She'd never had to – she'd lived in Pala Alto since she was thirteen and she'd never driven a car. It was an ideal place for green concepts to play out. Except, Randy was fond of pointing out, when it wasn't. Like now. Driving a big truck would be comforting at the moment.
She could hear it coming again, and this time she didn't dally. She looked frantically for a place to go and there weren't any. She pedaled as fast as she could but she certainly couldn't outrun it. It slammed sideways in front of her and sat rocking on its springs. The passenger’s side door opened and terror took over her life. She prided herself on a totally logical mind but she couldn't free herself from the evolutionary forces that left women, no matter how brilliant, no matter how clever, prey for the more backwards members of the tribe who couldn't attract a mate of their own. She tried to get around him, twisting the bike around the front of the truck, only to find an even uglier, bigger male hand stopping her dead still by grabbing her handlebars. She slid forward off the seat, looked up at one, then the other. Both were unshaven, wore torn clothes, dirt stains spread across once-white tee-shirts, and both reeked of alcohol. She wasn't worldly-wise enough to know what kind, but she did know it wasn't good. She put her hand in her pocket and hoped she dialed 911 instead of #44.
“Now don't she look all proper there on her little bicycle.”
The other one stood right behind her.
“Don't she just, Henry? I bet she'd be fun. Want to play, little girl?”
She turned to look at him and he leered at her, yellow-stained teeth, the few he had left, in a big grin; stinking breath blown into her face scared her. Maybe he was so drunk he didn't care. Suddenly she remembered. She had a plan. She had a can of MACE.
“Well say somethin', don't just stand like a little dummy.” He reached his hand out and touched her hair. “My goodness, that hair is really sweet. Anyone ever tell you that? I bet the rest of you is just as sweet.”
The can of MACE was in her purse...
“Well, I'd sure like to see what's under that coat, wouldn't you, Henry?” He grabbed the zipper tab on the front of her jacket and pulled it down, a little at a time. “I'd take my time with you, just like that. A long time before I was done with you. And Henry can have sloppy seconds.”
She felt disgust. How could he talk to her like that? She wasn't some slut... Oh God, my purse is in my backpack.
“Well, I don't know – maybe we should just swap off – first me then you. Flip you for her.”
Their voices grated on her ears. If she weren't so scared she would have been mad. There was nothing she could do to stop them. Fear had paralyzed her and she had stood where they stopped her, unable to talk or run. She was shaking and she was afraid she was going to pee her pants and...
A truck roared along the road and suddenly the tires screeched to a halt. Oh please let it be someone who'll help me.
A familiar voice... “So what’ve you boys got there? Looks like fun.” Randy, but why was he talking like that?
“Well, I reckon there might be enough to share, but you're third.”
“Hell, she looks good enough for all three of us.” Randy walked up to the group and she was amazed to watch Henry drop to the ground. The other guy – she'd never heard a name, spoke very briefly.
“Now look, mister...” He too fell in a heap, moaning. Randy stood him up and twisted his hands behind his back. He started whining and Randy muttered “Oh for God's sake shut up.” He poked the man in the throat – at least that was what Shannon thought he did – and he slumped. Randy reached out and undid the little tie she wore. He busied himself for a minute, then there was a thump in the back of the truck as her tormentor landed, painfully she hoped.
“Give me your belt.”
“Why mine – can’t you use yours?” It was the first words she'd spoken and it was a complaint – she felt a little ashamed of herself.
“Mine's leather, dear.”
She undid it and handed to him – seconds later there was a matching thump. She could hear sirens approaching.
“Your handiwork?”
“I tried to call 911 but I wasn't sure I got it...” Shannon was still shaking.
Randy waved his arms, successfully getting the officers' attention. Two cars screeched to a stop; the beginning of her ordeal was replayed and she couldn't help herself, tears started down her face. She hated emotional women but she had no choice this time, Randy walked off with the older of the two officers from the lead car while his partner, a woman close to Shannon's age stood with her, consoling her first, then listening to facts and filling out several forms. Shannon could only hear fragments of conversation from Randy, but he and the policeman seemed like old friends. They walked back to the woman standing with Shannon, trying to calm her down.
“... glad to keep this quiet, Commander.”
“Thanks, chief.”
The female officer looked at them both. When the officer spoke his voice was very soft.
“His DD-214 matches mine, Lacy. Shannon here is kind of famous and he asked if we could keep this quiet. I figure we found a couple of drunks in the back of their pickup.”
Shannon was impressed – Lacy was a muscular woman who didn’t seem like the type to take anything from anybody. She ripped up the forms and nodded. “Probably have a little spill going down the stairs to the intake cells as well. I don't much like guys like them.”
The third officer strode over from his patrol car.
“Well, we might have lucked out. It seems these boys have done the same thing before only up the peninsula a little ways. They've got at least four cases that match.”
Randy's friend whistled. “Thanks, Commander. You got a couple of bad ones off the street all by yourself.”
Randy smiled. “Always glad to help. Especially when it's my wife they were trying to play patty cake with.” He lifted her bicycle into his truck and gently walked her around to her door. Shannon was quiet, subdued, and still shaking so bad she could hardly move. She had finally stopped the tears and she was so glad he was there. She hung on his arm as he opened the door for her, climbed in while he waited. As he opened his own door and climbed in the officers all waved to him. He looked over.
“You do understand, Shannon, you are now grounded forever on that damn bicycle.” She couldn't do much but nod her head. There was a chorus of laughter as he closed the door, and he waved back as they drove off. There was a lot about her husband that she didn't know, apparently. How many other things had he hidden from her?
No comments:
Post a Comment