Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Teaser Tuesday….One of those books I may never finish

I have a bunch of manuscripts I've started, but haven't finished yet. Most I just delete after a while, but this one I can't quite give up on. (I'm pretty sure I started it in 2005 or 2006.)  It's sort of an urban fantasy which is out of my wheelhouse…..

Eternal Springs

They could have been praying. The four men knelt shoulder-to-shoulder, their heads bowed slightly. At least one of them, the man who appeared to be the oldest, was praying. His lips were moving soundlessly as he focused on the benevolent gaze of the statue of the Virgin Mary.

They knelt on the floor of the old church as the morning sun splashed through the stained glass windows, bathing their faces in a rainbow of reds, blues and yellows. The praying man, balding, looked to be about fifty. The two men on either side of him appeared to be in their early thirties. The one to his right was a tall, thin man with black spiky hair, hazel eyes and an unreadable expression. He was still and watchful. The man on the other side of the praying man was struggling to free himself from his bonds, the well-developed muscles of his chest and arm, straining against his restraints with every breath he took. Beside him the fourth man knelt, his fair head bent, as though he too were praying.

They could have all been praying, but they weren’t. They were waiting to die. More specifically they were waiting to be executed. The man who’d brought them here, who’d brought them to their knees, strapping their hands behind their backs and binding them to their ankles, and lined them up like chickens about to be slaughtered, paced back and forth before them, puffed up with his own self-importance.

His cell phone buzzed. As fast as a gunslinger in the Old West he yanked it from its holster at his hip, and without taking his eyes from his prisoners, he barked, “I’m here.”

Another man’s voice, smooth and cultured, was heard by the four men waiting on their knees, “All four?”

“Yes,” their captor confirmed.

“Kill them.”

“You bastard  Kassius!” The second man from the left cried out, forgetting about his struggle against the ropes that bound him and lunging awkwardly from his kneeling position towards the phone before tipping over. “You won’t get away with this.”

The unseen man chuckled, a malevolent sound that caused the hairs on the back of the necks of all who heard it, including the man who held the phone, to stand at attention. “I’ve already gotten away with it Duncan. It’s done. You’re done,” the even voice taunted. CLICK. The call was terminated.

Slipping the phone back into its holster their captor mused aloud, “I’ve never done four of you at once.” He grabbed Duncan by the shoulders and roughly dragged him upright.  “Truth is, I’ve never done more than one at a time.” He turned his back on his prisoners and limped a few paces away. “First time for everything I guess.”

Bending forward to reach what lay on the pew, he unzipped the five-foot-long leather case. Three of the men held their breath as they watched him. The bald man’s eyes never left the Virgin Mary’s as he continued to pray.

A consummate performer, the executioner slowly withdrew a long, heavy and extremely sharp sword. The sun glinted off the deadly blade sending vibrating prisms of light dancing through the sanctuary.

“You don’t have to do this,” Duncan said in a low, measured tone that belied his earlier impulsive actions.

The man, who had been admiring the heft of the sword he held, paused, considering Duncan’s words.

“Just let us go,” Duncan urged in the same even tone. “There’ll be no hard feelings.”

”I don’t have to do this?” Confusion crept into the executioner’s tone, making his words have an almost singsong quality.

“No,” Duncan replied. “Just let us go.”

The sword trailing behind him like an afterthought, the man limped back so that he was standing directly in front of Duncan. He leaned down so that his mouth was almost touching Duncan’s ear. “I don’t have to kill you,” he whispered. “But I want to.”

Taking a step back he swung the sword up and over, positioning it above Duncan’s head. “I know I’m supposed to drive it through your heart and all,” he said conversationally, “but this blade is amazing. It can cut through anything. It can even slice through your skull. Wanna see?”

Duncan glared up at him defiantly. The long moment while the swordsman reveled in his power, stretched for an eternity.

“Kyle!”

Surprised by the sound of the woman’s voice echoing off the walls of the church, the swordsman whipped his head around, searching.  Just yards away, she stepped partway out of the shadows so that he could see the .38 trained at him.

“Do. Not. Move.” Her expression was coolly determined. “I mean it Kyle. Not a millimeter.”

“Rose! Get out of here!” the sandy-haired kneeling man who had not previously spoken ordered.

“He’s right Sis,” Kyle said, searching her level gaze for something he could use to his advantage. “You should get out of here.”

“Go to hell,” she snapped back.

“You first, Sis.”

“Been there. Done that. Not all it’s cracked up to be.”


4 comments:

B.E. Sanderson said...

Wow. That might not be your wheelhouse, but it's killer. And I suspect those of us who live in that wheel could help whip it into shape after you write it. You know, in your spare time... ;o)

jblynn said...

Careful. I may take you up on that someday… ;-)

B.E. Sanderson said...

Bring it on!

Aisyah Putri Setiawan said...

Banned complain !! Complaining only causes life and mind become more severe. Enjoy the rhythm of the problems faced. No matter ga life, not a problem not learn, so enjoy it :)

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