Hello faithful readers,
Well the wait is almost over. The next novel is being screened by some trusted beta readers. It has been a long time coming but the wait will be worth it. I am going to paste the first chapter of Fault Line into this post for your reading pleasure.
If you see something that you think would make the story better please comment and let me know. If you like it then please also let me know.
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Well, without further ado. Here it is.
Enjoy:
Chapter 1
Late summer is a great time of year in this part of Texas. The sun has eased back from the blistering intensity of July. It now warms the skin instead of frying it like an egg in a skillet. The air has lost some of its sweltering quality and is stirred by a cool, breeze that rolls gently through the park.
Kids play in the green oasis of nature. Several play catch with Frisbees while others toss a baseball back and forth. Tired mothers watch their tireless toddlers play. Young couples lay on blankets, basking in the sun as much as they are basking in their love. Toddlers feed the ducks by the pond. Joggers make their way along the path which winds around the promenade. The rhythmic cadence of their footfalls add to the natural rhythm of the day. At the south-eastern corner of the promenade a black lab races along the green expanse of grass. It launches into the air and catches a Frisbee with effortless grace.
Bill is taking it all in. It feels good to be back home. The smell of fresh cut grass combined with the cool morning breeze helps him to relax like he hasn’t been able to do for so long.
“Man you got ‘a get the Shelby. If you’re going to get a Mustang you might as well get the best,” said Sam. Sam was from Virginia Beach and had grown up around muscle cars. His Dad taught him some of life’s most valuable lessons while tinkering under the hood of one project after another. When it came to cars Sam knew what he was talking about. His favorite project had been when he had rebuilt a 442 with his Dad and Uncle. It had been the first time his Dad had involved him in the restoration of the engine and transmission. Before that, he had mostly done body work and been the one to fetch what the men needed. In fact, looking back, it was probably that restoration more than anything else which had led him to decide on being a 63B, light vehicle mechanic.
“Listen man,” said Sebastian, “I still haven’t made up my mind. Yeah, I love the Shelby but that Camaro is awesome too.” He held up his hands to forestall the complaints he knew were coming. “Before you say that it can’t compare with the Mustang think about after-market work. With some fine tuning and a little tweak to the computer chip she would be sweet! Now toss in a new transmission and it would scream!” Sebastian was an Army brat and had spent most of his childhood in Germany. He had always been good with electronics and had initially come into the Army to do that. Once he was in the Army himself, he learned about the things the guys in EOD did so he cross-trained and became an 89D.
“It still wouldn’t be the same grumbled Sam.”
“To tell you the truth I’m leaning toward the Beamer. I’ve been reading about the M3 and it really is a complete package. I like the way that it rides so low to the ground. It really hugs the road.” Sebastian scooted to the edge of his chair while he was talking. “Its got 425 horse power pushing around 4000 pounds. Get this man, it goes zero to sixty in four point five seconds!”
“You’re right man, said Tommy, that M3 is sweet.” He was leaning back as usual. His normal pose, and attitude in general, was relaxed. “For me though, I’m going to get an Escalade.” Tommy was from Atlanta and would be going there to visit his Mother after the wedding. Like the rest of the guys he hadn’t been home in over eight months. He was an only child, and in spite of his tough as nails exterior, he had a soft spot for his mother. She had made a lot of sacrifices for him. His dad had died when he was young and she had raised him as a single mother. He owed her a lot and tried to respect her sacrifices by becoming the best man he could be. He had big shoes to fill. His father had been a great man. Tommy constantly strove to become better. Maybe one day someone would think that he had been a great man as well.
“You’re all crazy,” Raul said. “The classics are the best. I’m gonn’a get me a ’78 Monte Carlo and trick it out. Picture it man, lime green, full chrome rims, at least 32’s, and full hydraulics, a true hopper.” He crossed his arms and sat back with a smug look on his face. When none of the guys showed any reaction he quickly sat forward in his chair again and put his hands on his knees. “You’ve got to be kidding me guys. You don’t know what a hopper is?” He held out his hand palm down and bounced it up and down, small at first then bigger and bigger bounces. “Sweet right?” he asked as he leaned back again.
Raul was from New York and had joined the infantry. He had joined to be in the infantry. He wanted to go out and make a difference. Once he was in the Army he decided he liked the camaraderie and worked hard to become better. He graduated all of his courses at or near the top of the class. When he was done with his initial training he applied himself and completed his G. E. D.. He found that he actually liked to learn. This was different than when he was in school back at home. He decided to try some college classes. He finished his Bachelors degree in three years and was working on his Masters in adverse psychology. Along the way he also completed Army Sniper training. He had a real knack for observing and analyzing. He was also really good at taking action when it was the right time.
Bill just sat back and listened. He usually was the quiet one of the group. These were his friends and he knew he was damn lucky to have them. It was kind of funny that two years ago they hadn’t known each other. They had come from all different walks of life. Each man had decided to join the Army for his own reasons. At the core of it each man was looking for the same thing. Each of them wanted to become better than what they were. Over the past two years they had become as close as any brothers. Being in battle together does that. Especially when they had saved each other’s lives too many times to count.
Bill watched the tranquil scene of normal life play out in the park across the street. His attention was focused on a crow. It was working on a crust of bread. It would attack the prize a few times then raise its head, darting it from side to side to make sure his perimeter was clear. The crow was cautious. He made sure his prize was still safely his. Satisfied, it returned its attention back to the bread, stabbing its beak into the crusty morsel. Suddenly, it dropped the meal and launched up into the air. The unmistakable crack of a gunshot shattered the tranquility.
Instinct and experience guided Bill’s eyes over his left shoulder. Jumping out of his chair, he pivoted his body around, eyes searching for the aggressor. He was kneeling on his right knee when his eyes locked on their target. His right hand clasped the grip of his Sig Sauer SP 2022 Nitron which was still firmly in the holster. His left arm, now clear of the seatback was coming around for a two hand grip. Seeing a confirmed threat, he cleared leather and brought his weapon to bear.
A man was in the middle of the two lane road, standing over a woman. She was down on her knees and gesturing her hands fiercely. Bill couldn’t make out the words they were saying from this distance, but it was obvious he wasn’t asking her out on a date. The man was holding the stock of what looked like an AK 47 with his right hand, waving it around menacingly, while shouting at the woman. His long, stringy, brown hair flying around his head. He punctuated his agitation by thrusting the gun up and down.
The woman raised up off of her heals and said something to him. Whatever it was caught his attention. He stepped closer to her and bent his thin frame down to her again.
She shrank back from his leering face. Whatever it was she said next, he must have found amusing. He tossed his head back and laughed, then started dancing around her. He was doing a kind of high step, pumping the rifle up and down. He was really getting it too. His knees were pumping up and down. Once he was back in front of her he stopped dancing, threw his head back, and howled like a wolf. In a fluid movement he snugged the butt of the gun up to his shoulder and sighted in on the woman. The black barrel ended inches from her upturned face. Her jet black hair blew back from her face in the gentle breeze. It and the angle she was facing prevented Bill from seeing her face.
Bill admired the way she faced the man that was about to take her life. She looked proud and strong. Even if she was seconds from meeting her maker she wasn’t going to cower. He instantly respected her for that.
Bill was increasing the pressure of his trigger finger. Seeing the man tense his shoulder and bring his right elbow out to the side triggered him to engage fully. A split second before applying the final amount of pressure, the dancer jerk to the right. The guy continued to fall in what seemed like slow motion. Bill knew better. This was what he called battle speed. As the man fell, bullets sprayed out from the barrel of the AK47 in a deadly arc. In this case, it was good that the AK 47 shot up to six hundred rounds-per-minute. It quickly ran out of ammo before anyone was hurt by this madman. With the guy out of the fight Bill scanned for other threats. Seeing none he did a quick check on his friends. Sam and Raul were both covering down on the baddie.
Bill kept his weapon trained on the inert form in the road from his kneeling position. He cut his eyes over to Tommy and Sebastian and saw they were taking cover behind the decorative fence that separated the café from the sidewalk. He could see they were at a loss. They were so used to being in uniform and reacting as they were trained to do. When their finely honed reactions came up with a missing weapon they were at a loss for a beat. This wasn’t Iraq or Afghanistan. It was Texas, and yet war had found them here.
Bill kept his weapon pointed at the bad guy as he ran over to the woman. She was still on her knees in the middle of the road. The bad guy hadn’t moved since he had hit the pavement. As Bill got closer he could see why. A pool of blood was spreading out from his head and a small puddle was congealing under his torso as well. Bill wasn’t taking any chances. He had seen men get up from wounds that should’ve killed them outright before.
He slowly circled the body, keeping his eyes on the man’s hands. If they so much as twitched Bill would drop the hammer. His finger skillfully had 3 of the 7 pounds of pressure squeezing the match grade trigger. It would only take a small fraction more to dispatch the man if needed. He kicked the rifle away from the corpse and then looked at the woman. She was staring at the body. He couldn’t see her face from his angle. Her black hair was loose and partially covered it. He could see that she was shivering in spite of the warm air.
A crowd was beginning to form. Sam and Raul were still training their weapons around, searching for any more potential threats. Sebastian and Tommy were keeping the small crowd that was forming back, forming a loose perimeter defense. They were doing their best to keep the look-e-loos away from the scene. Of course in this modern day most of the people had their phones out, trying to catch it all on video. It would be up on social media before the authorities had a chance to arrive on the scene.
“Are you okay ma’am?”
She raised her obsidian eyes up to his and said in a calm voice, “I think so.”
“Are you hurt?” Bill asked her.
“No, . . . I don’t think so,” she replied shaking her head slowly.
“Are there any more of them?” He asked as he cast his eyes around.
“I don’t know,” answered the woman. “I don’t know who he is.”
She looked down at her lap and her body sagged down. The steel that had held her up seemed to leave her. “He was really going to kill me,” she murmured.
They both knew she had spoken the truth. Bill didn’t see any need to say anything further on that point.
“What’s your name ma’am?” Bill asked her in a gentle tone as he reached out his hand to help her up.
She took it and let him help her to her feet. Once she was sure she wasn’t going to fall back down, she squeezed his hand a little and responded; “My name is Isabella, thank you.” She said looking him in the eye.
“You’re welcome,” he replied simply.
There was something about this woman, something more than her beauty. There was a feeling of strength that radiated from her. He tore his gaze from her beautiful eyes and looked around at the scene developing around them.
More people had gathered on the sidewalks on both sides of the street. Traffic was at a standstill. Cars were lined up with their doors standing open. Their drivers had abandoned them to get a better look at the aftermath of the violence that had played out in their small town. Small children were standing with their parents. Some parents were trying to cover their children’s eyes but the curious little ones weren’t having it. Bill wished he could cover the body up. Not to give the man his dignity but to lessen the macabre interest that had overtaken these people. He knew better though. He knew the police were going to conduct an investigation. Back here that meant collecting forensic evidence. Almost as if on cue the shrill notes of a siren cut through the still morning air. All together less than three minutes had passed since the first shot had been fired and the discordant wail sounded the arrival of law and order.
Okay, so there it is. That's the first chapter. Please take a minute while the experience is fresh and leave a comment of what you thought of it.
Thank you,
TL Scott
