The Cold Bite of Autumn (pt. 9)

Once in the car, Samantha shrugged off the oversized coat with the floppy hood. Walking was out of the question for a while. Somehow, Daniel had requisitioned crutches for her and they left the hospital in plain sight - she in a wheelchair and Daniel pushing, toting a doting husband's compliment of suitcases, crutches and make-up bags.

She had to admit he could be very resourceful. Where he came up with all the loot she never figured out. A good field agent would do the same. This worried her. Daniel promised to be more than he appeared.

We're headed for the mountains, in case you're wondering," Daniel said as the car woke to his key.

"Don't tell me. You just happen to have a cabin up there."

"No, but I happen to know someone who does and they won't be using it anytime soon."

"Do you make it a habit of barging in on other people's property like that?"

"Only when I need to. This is a need to situation." Daniel turned the radio down to a whisper and asked, "Why'd you kill them?"

"They had turned."

"Money?"

"Does it really matter?"

"I suppose not. How long had you worked with them?"

"Four years."

"Why aren't you lying? I thought you always lied."

"What's the point? I only lie when I need to." Samantha shifted in the seat. Her ankle ached from all the activity during there 'escape' from the hospital.

"So you decided to go out with them. They must have meant something to you."

"Bastards. They welcomed me into the group. We were going to be rich. No one could touch us. Let the world go to hell while we all sit back, drink heavily and fuck like rabbits."

"Were you tempted?" Daniel glanced her way. She felt his eyes study her face.

"Yeah." She lowered her head and muttered, "I was tempted."

"What made you decide to do the job. I presume you infiltrated them for that purpose."

"I gathered information I couldn't live with."

"What kind of information."

"Now you want me to lie. Let's leave it at money, alcohol and sex wouldn't be enough for me to be able to live with myself. They were into something nasty."

"Fair enough - for now. We'll need to hole up a while for your ankle to heal."

"What about you? You appear to know way too much about my line of work. What's your story?"

"I kill women."

She shot a glance his way then felt her face flush when she noticed he'd seen. "Ok, that's funny."

"No really. I don't lie. Women seem to die around me. I suppose it's my engaging personality."

"How do they die?"

"Not by my hand. They all seem to ... have issues. Drugs, pimps, agents, husbands. You name it, I've seen it."

"A dead babe magnet, eh?" She smiled for the first time.

"It ain't all that funny lady."

Creating Product

Fiction's Footsteps is an interesting project. I'm attempting to write it without using notes or outlines. I just look at the previous post and continue the story from there.

Plot twists could spring from anything that may have happened during a day in my life. The unpredictability of this project could make it somewhat less than satisfying, but it may surprise and deliver a story we can sink our teeth into.

The Cold Bite of Autumn explores my ability (and lust) to create an alternate world that is accessible to most people and a joy to write. So far, I am encouraged by the writing. My writing is in need of overhauling so much, I fear when I click the "Publish Post" button.

No writer wishes to create product that stinks. Hell, we all dream of writing the "Great American Novel. Realistically speaking, most of us have a ton of work to do.

I will continue to create product, post it to this page, and hope that someone 'discovers' me and finds the fiction palatable and especially enjoyable.

The Cold Bite of Autumn (pt.7)

Half a day later, Cheryl/Samantha opened her eyes. Daniel remained still to see if she could focus on her surroundings.

"Where am I and who the hell are you?" She squinted his direction and rubbed her left hand on her temple.

"The hospital - and I should ask the same of you. Is it Samantha or Cheryl?"

Her pause revealed a struggle with who she was speaking to and how Daniel fit into her web of lies.

"Samantha," she decided.

"Nice of you to be so, shall we say - forthcoming?"

"Fuck you."

"Harold came by to see you."

An eyebrow betrayed her otherwise calm face. "Harold who?"

"If that's the thanks I get for chasing him off before he injects you with something nasty, you need to find your manners."

"You're in over your head hero. You shoulda let him do it. Woulda saved all of us some trouble."

"He and his buddy will be back soon. It's been about eight hours. Why don't you let me help you. I'm not asking you to tell me what this is all about, although it would be nice."

"You're dead just being in this room mister."

"Daniel."

"Daniel. Once they find out you've helped me, you'll die. They will find out." Samantha folded her hands on her lap and began to flex her fingers.

"That may be true, but I'll take a few with me before I go." Daniel collected some clothes he purchased for her after Harold left the building.

"No, you mustn't." Samantha's face contorted in bloodless white lines and a set jaw. "They're the good guys."

The Cold Bite of Autumn (pt.2)

Cheryl stumbled past a decrepit gate and fell into the rocky yard. A scream of pain ripped from her lips despite her sense that she could not hurt anymore than she already did. She attempted to pull herself forward with her arms but could raise neither high enough to do any good.

She heard the front door creak slightly and pictured a little old woman afraid of her own shadow opening it. Instead, a burly man swung the door open boldly, pushed open a screen door and took the steps two at a time. In an instant he knelt beside her.

"What happened? Car wreck?"

All Cheryl could do was nod. She felt his hands probing around gingerly but with enough force that when he touched her ankle she cried out.

"That's pretty messed up. Probably broken. Looks like you've lost some blood too. Do you feel cold?"

She nodded again, thankful her mouth was incapable of betraying her. She wanted to scream, "I should have died too." Bastards. They were supposed to all die together. Her benefactor kept taking an inventory until he was sure there were no other major injuries.

"I'll have an ambulance here in a second." The man stood up, bound back up the steps and was swallowed by the dim lit house. His muffled voice trailed off into a silken mist as Cheryl lost consciousness.