Today I figured I'd share the first chapter of my work, in what is probably the 12th draft of the opening pages of the first in a series with the character. Honestly the main character is presently one of my top two favorite creations and the female lead(s) are almost as close to my heart as he is.
You'll only meet the MC (and two thugs) here but I think its one of my better opening chapters in spite of this fact. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As far as I’m concerned once you’ve been stuffed in the trunk of one car you’ve been stuffed in them all. I would know; I’ve been shoved into more than my fair share of them in my lifetime. It goes with the territory I guess, I work in a profession that requires the asking of questions that some people don’t want asked. Ask the wrong person the wrong question or have the wrong person find out that you’ve been asking the “unaskable” and it’s in the trunk with you. If you’re really lucky there might just be a beating thrown in for good measure.
This particular trunk was made even more uncomfortable by the fact that the thugs hadn’t even had the decency to empty it before hand and I’d spent much of my visit with a tire iron jammed in the crack of my ass and a jack in the ribs. Given my experience being transported around in such a manner I’d love to say I’d developed a feel for how much time passes while within but sadly I haven’t. I might have been in there for thirty minutes or maybe it was a few hours. All I knew for certain was that my ass and side were both screaming at me and my legs were starting to cramp. Admittedly I was grateful when the car came to a halt and my traveling companions opened the trunk.
Sometime after they had gotten the drop on me they had wrapped my head in a hood yet in spite of this fact I was immediately aware upon the opening of the trunk that we were at the lake. The wind was coming out of the north and bringing with it a bitingly cold edge. It was cold enough that I briefly regretted not having my overcoat but considering the fact that the two fine gentlemen dragging me out of the trunk were intent on my demise I probably shouldn’t have been concerned with catching my death of cold. I took a quick inventory of my pains and decided that as annoying as the cramps in my legs and back were the golf ball sized knot on the back of my head stood the most chance of being serious. As for what raised it, I’d have put money on a good old fashioned blackjack but there was always possibility of the equally classic pistol whip as well.
As they started to herd me down the pier I briefly entertained the thought of working the cramps out of my legs, toying with the idea of spending my last moments in relative comfort but with my arms cuffed behind me it wasn’t like I could have massaged my calves. I decided then that dying comfortably wasn’t everything; not dying at all would be preferable. Besides even if I could work out the charlie-horses I’d still have been left with the burning sensations of the damn scars on my arms not to mention the Cadillac sized lump on my head. There I was being led to what would surely be my demise and I was worried about cramps and itchy scars. The things that pass through your head when you are facing certain death always did amuse me. At that point I was glad my face was covered by the damn burlap bag, I was certain that these thugs would have smashed in my teeth had they been able to take one look at the shit eating grin splitting my face.
Once we reached what was no doubt the end of the pier they turned me around and forced me to my knees. Having been here a million times before I knew what was coming beforehand but foresight didn’t unbind my hands, so to my utter lack of surprise one of my captors unloaded on me. I’m not sure if it was a fist coupled with brass knuckles or possibly my second pistol whipping of the evening, regardless pain flared white hot in my head as stars danced across my vision. My mouth and chin were bathed in blood that felt boiling in comparison to the cold air and I was certain that my nose had just been spread across my face. “Ah, watch it numb-nuts. You’ll ruin my movie star good looks doing shit like that.” I said while spitting blood into the inside of the bag. Predictably I was punched, no doubt an unassisted punch this time, in my face and kicked in the gut for my trouble. I collapsed in a heap, struggling to drag in air and fighting the urge to fill my hood with the half digested remains of the meal I’d had at Vic’s a few hours back. “Damn…boys…..you play…..you play soccer? Damn….fine….kicks the….there.” I managed to spit out before the two of them began to fire kick after kick into my chest and gut.
“Shut it wise ass,” said Thug Number One, “we don’t want to hear none of your shit.”
“Yeah, shut it.” eloquently added Thug Two in stereotypical yet familiar gravelly street tough tones. This brought laughter, pained laughter but laughter none-the-less from me and without a chance to explain what I found funny I was the recipient of a new wave of kicks.
“You ask too many questions laughing man. The boss, he really don’t like people snooping around, asking questions they have no business knowing the answers to. Nobody teach you to mind your business huh Mr. Madden? Too bad for you they didn’t, cause now we get to teach you this lesson. We’re pretty good teachers too, people we teach learn real quick.”
I really should know better but as I drew myself back to a kneeling position I said, “Yeah, you two are a regular couple of street professors.”
Again I was treated to a ballet of dancing lights and colors when I was pistol whipped upside the head and fell once more to the pier. This time the blow was hard enough that the sounds of the water slapping the underside of the pier became muffled as if I was hearing them from miles away and with cotton in my ears. I realized then that I was sliding ever closer to losing consciousness and that meant I was in serious danger of losing my life as well. If I passed out I’d have no chance of getting through this alive so I began to focus on simply not giving into the desperate need to sleep. The only other clear thought I had was amusement at the fact that when I took this case I was certain that I’d finally landed a job that would break the monotony of my usual work.
