Well, I got lots of awesome feedback from everyone on my recent short story/serial story starter. Y’know… the villain with amnesia one. That cute little thing.
So… in my writing time yesterday I cranked out another thousand words and a new episode. 😀 Yipee!
(Lots of time in the car… lots of time to stew over plot things so I have lots of *evil laugh* ideas about what to do with this…)
Anyway, so *confetti* this will be continuing. Keep up the ideas and questions in the comments. You guys gave me a ton of ideas.
And now, the next part.
Enjoy! (Or… don’t. Though I prefer you do. ❤ )
Check out the first bit here: Blank Mastermind
I swallowed, my head pounding slightly more than before. “I shot you?”
Talk about sentences I never thought I’d say . . .
The boy stared at me and blinked. His mouth fell slightly open.
Translation: Well, duh.
I licked my lips and tasted blood. “Right.” I took a few more steps toward him.
He moved to stand up again and his whole body clenched tight in pain. His face blanched white, standing out as a stark contrast in the dark corner he was in.
I reached him and managed to seat myself on a crate before my legs went on strike again. It gave me a slight upper hand being the one who could somewhat walk. I started calculating exactly what acrobatics I’d have to pull to be able to carry this kid.
He unsquinched his face and his eyes flicked over to me. Suspicion practically puddled around him.
I let out my breath, “Look, kid . . . we both need a hospital pretty bad. I’d say being in the same boat calls for somewhat of a truce, doesn’t it?”
His expression didn’t change.
I hauled myself to my feet again, propped one arm on the wall and held out a hand to him. “C’mon. I came to help you out.”
He looked at it like I had claws. “You’re lying.”
“And you’re dying.”
He met my eyes for a second and then looked back down at his bloody midsection.
“Kid, do I look like I could pull anything right now?” I asked.
His lips tightened in a line, he let out his breath and then took my hand. I just about fell over as he pulled himself up. He paled even more upon being upright and blinked hard a couple of times.
“Well,” I slung one of his arms over my shoulders, wincing as I discovered yet another bruise. “To the land of Parking-Lot we go.”
And we were off like a herd of turtles. Wounded turtles.
I managed to hobble us out into the quiet hall and a few yards down before we collapsed in a heap, making another distasteful stain on that lovely rug. With lots of effort and accidental bumping of various injuries, we got back on our feet.
Well, on my feet at least. The kid was fading fast.
“So . . .” I began, shifting his weight against my shoulder and looking for conversation starters. “What’s your name?” He might be too out of it to notice anything wrong with me saying that. If I already knew him, that is.
He gave me a tiredly confused look and I smiled back at him. He blinked, “Dallas . . . Knight.”
“Knight, huh?” my leg clanged up against a vent on the wall as I stopped to catch my breath, “Got any shining armor?”
Dallas moaned and doubled partway over, pressing his arm against his stomach.
I struggled to hold him up, “Hey, hey . . . we’re almost there, bud. Hold on.”
“This way,” echoed a voice from somewhere distantly down the hall in back of us. A few other indistinct phrases followed.
If Dallas hadn’t passed out just then, I would have bet him on it being the cops.
I clenched my teeth, sucked in a deep breath and made for the door with the furious speed of a snail. Dallas’s legs dragged behind me as I limped along, breathing way too hard to for the pace I was going.
The voices were just coming around the corner as I stepped into the parking lot and closed the door behind us. I leaned up against the brick wall and let myself slide down, dropping Dallas next to me and gulping in long breaths of the outside air. Every part of me ached and my head felt like someone was hammering on it.
Even with no memories, I was pretty sure that was the most pathetic race for life I’d ever had.
After I’d sufficiently caught my breath, I looked up across the parking lot. Five cars sat in various spots, a couple looking like they’d been here for a while, and all of them looking like trash. This was probably a back lot. Even on an off day, I’d guess an opera house would have a bit more employees hanging around.
I patted down my pockets for a key, hoping I wasn’t the kind of guy who’d buy some old minivan for whatever horrible things I did. My fingers closed around a keychain in my right pocket and I pulled it out.
A car key, a house key and a key fob dangled from a large ring, along with a kind of knot of paracord and some little robot thing with a whisk and a plunger. I tapped on the robot, watching it swing and spin on its ring for a second before shifting my fingers over to hold the key fob.
Here’s hoping for a hot-rod.
I stuck my hand up in the air and hit the lock button. None of the five in this lot lit up, but I heard a “beep-beep” from somewhere.
Pushing off the wall, I made my way to the corner by the other parking lot and pressed the button again. The headlights of a black convertible Mustang parked in the corner of the lot lit up.
Well, one fact about myself: I’m a man of good taste.
Taking longer than I’d care to admit, I got back to Dallas and hauled him with me to the car. The back seat had a decent amount of space so I got him settled in there.
I flopped myself down in the driver’s seat, let my head fall back and closed my eyes for a second. It was a toss up at this point whether driving was a good idea or not.
On one hand, I really didn’t feel like I was in any state to get behind the wheel. But on the other hand, both of us bleeding out in a parked car sounded worse.
I opened my eyes and glanced around the front seat area. Darn me. I kept my car too clean to have anything useful on hand. Then something caught my eye higher up. A red bandana hung from the rear-view mirror.
I untied it with my shaking hands and repositioned it lopsidedly over the back of my head. My breath caught in my chest at the pain, but the pressure seemed to help a little.
“Well, here goes crazy . . .” I stuck the key in the ignition and gave it a turn. The engine purred to life and I steered out of the parking lot. The motion of the car and the wind in my hair steadied my shaking hands a little as I zipped down the road.
The freeway entrance came up and I merged on, hoping I’d happen upon some sort of sign directing me to the hospital.
I lost track of how long I’d been driving. Miles melted together. Road signs got fuzzy. I rubbed my hand over my face and blinked hard.
A pitch-black pickup truck showed up in my rearview mirror, coming up fast. I squinted at it. The driver had sunglasses on and looked like bad news. Bad news was the last thing I needed. I took the exit to some middle-of nowhere town that was coming up.
My breath was coming shorter and my head felt like it might float away. I barely was able to register when the light turned green at the intersection. The car seemed to steer itself down the least busy road.
I was able to hold it together until the town, the freeway and everything but the black pickup disappeared on the horizon. My foot slid off the gas pedal and the car coasted along, veering slowly off the road and grinding to a halt in the gravel.
The pickup door slammed shut behind me, but I didn’t have the energy to turn my head. I let myself fall against the steering wheel and my eyes fell shut.
The sound of footsteps approaching the car faded away.
And we’ll be returning… sometime in the near future.
What do you think will happen next? Do you like it so far?