Jillian Chantal

For Tuesday Tales this week, we’re writing to the word prepare. I’m working on my NaNoWrimo story set in 1788 but thought I’d share one more posting from my thriller story since I won’t get back to it until the madness of the November writing craze is over.

Be sure to check out the other tales here. We’re got some great stories going on.

I followed Dawn down the side of the building with my weapon drawn. A few moments before we made it to the large door we could see ahead, shots rang out.

She and I both hunkered down lower as if making ourselves smaller would make us bullet proof. Moving faster now as we were sure our comrades were under fire, we arrived at the door.

Dawn nodded to me. I interpreted her signal as she would lead as I opened the door and covered her.

Moving as a single unit, we entered the building and cleared the area. There was still gunfire—way too much fire—but we pressed on.

Coming around a corner, Dawn stopped so abruptly, I almost crashed into her.

Peering over her shoulder, I was completely unprepared for the sight in front of me.

There were a number of nasty, smelly, mattresses strewn around the room in some semblance of order. Each of them held a woman or girl. Some were either passed out, some attempting to sit up as if to try to figure out what was happening and a few may have even been dead. It was hard to tell but the odor in the dingy room had the distinct flavor of a dead body or two.

Before my eyes truly adjusted to the darkness, Dawn said, “To the left. Two men.”

They came at us with guns blasting.

Dawn took one out and I got the other.

As they fell to the ground, I said, “Keep your eyes open. There are probably more.”

“Ya think?” She practically snarled the words but I didn’t take offense. This was serious and deadly, there was no time to be a sissy with hurt feelings. It was take down time.

It’s fitting that today’s word is ghost since it is Halloween but I am not using it in a spooky way. I’m still working on my thriller story and this week, we’re finally getting to the part where the hero is attempting to rescue some women from human traffickers.

Be sure to check out the other tales here.

Eventually, we came upon a clearing where there were a number of trucks parked and several old, rundown sheds. Large sheds that might have once been considered warehouses but were so dilapidated they couldn’t have been sound for protecting products any longer. But was this where they were keeping women? On cold nights, the wind had to penetrate all the cracks in the siding of the buildings.

A shrill whistle startled me but I couldn’t think about it as men came charging out of the buildings and leapt into some of the trucks parked there.

Bennett called over his shoulder, “Get out, find the women while we chase these guys.”

Dawn flung her door open at the same time I did. I rolled to the ground with my Glock in my hand. I just cleared the tires as Roger squealed off in pursuit of two trucks.

As I stood, I noticed others of our group chasing more trucks. Shots fired wildly and I glanced around to see who we had left to help us round up any victims we could find.

It was down to me, Dawn and two guys I’d met earlier.

Signaling to the two of them with my gun, I pointed toward the left side of the building near the back. I hadn’t noticed anyone coming from it when chaos ensued so I was hopeful the women were there with minimal guards.

Looking at Dawn, I said, “You follow me around the right side and we’ll cut them off with those other two guys.”

She gave me a ghost of a smile and slammed the clip into the bottom of her own gun. “Show time.”

This week’s word for Tuesday Tales is seed.  We’re still in my story based in New York where the hero is searching for a runaway girl.

Be sure to check out the stories of the other writers in our group here. I’m sure they have used our word very cleverly.

Bennett came to stand beside me. “Are you ready to roll? It should be interesting.”

“Yeah, I’m more than ready. We need to take these people down. Hard.”

“Ride with me and Dawn. Roger is driving that rig over there and we’ll be with him.” Bennett pointed to a black truck with a skull and crossbones tag on the front bumper.

All the others seemed to know which vehicle they were assigned as they broke away and found their rides. I was impressed with the orderliness and precision. Hopefully, this boded well for the success of the mission.

When we were finally all aboard and our audience had grown to epic proportions, Bennett gave the signal to move out.

Our truck was the lead truck and as we roared away and toward the northern part of Manhattan, the seed of excitement that had settled in my gut grew.  There was nothing like the adrenaline of a mission. In this moment, I realized exactly how much I’d missed that part of my life. Perhaps I’d join Bennett’s group on a more permanent basis once I was able to rescue Shannon.

The thought of the girl made me pull her photo out of my pocket. I looked down at the school picture and reiterated the promise I’d made to that face many times. “I’m going to find you.”

“You know she’s probably not with these girls, right?” Dawn, seated on the back seat beside me, said.

“Yeah. I do but I can still keep promising her I won’t give up.”

She stared at me with an expression that seemed to say I was nuts but she wasn’t going to break the news to me just yet.

This week’s word prompt is truck.  I am back working on the story I featured a while back (that still has no title). This is a thriller and if you recall, our hero is a former cop from New York trying to find a runaway girl that’s the grandchild of a man he met on the Appalachian Trail. We pick up the story as he and his cohorts are planning a raid.

Be sure to check out the other tales here. 

She was right. I was being stupid. I knew the score but dammit, I was beyond frustrated at my helplessness.

Reluctantly, I nodded. “I know. Just thinking aloud.”

“Put your thinking to better use. We’ve got a closet here full of firearms. We need to check they are all in working order and cleaned.” Bennett glanced at his watch. “There’ll be a number of guys arriving soon. We’ll have several trucks—and I mean reinforced steel—trucks. Once we’ve loaded them with men and guns, we’re going to a place up near Washington Heights where there’s supposed to be an abandoned warehouse used to hide girls.”

“We’ve heard they’re mostly Russian so I’m not sure we’ll find your girl but we’ll at least save some women tonight,” Dawn said.

“Let’s get to work, then.” I followed Bennett to the closet and helped move the weapons to the table where we sat and made sure they were ready to go.

Before we finished the task, a number of men joined us. Sometimes entering alone and sometimes in groups. I was a little shocked not to see any females but then realized there was a bigger risk for them than for us guys. Sure, we could get shot but they could get captured and find themselves in the same situation as the women we planned to assist.

Looking over at Dawn, I asked, “Are you going on the mission with us or are you staying here?”

“I’m going. Why? Do you think it’s not the place for me?”

She was angry and I didn’t blame her. “I didn’t mean to offend you but take a gander around the room. You’re it in the feminine department.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve often been told I’m unique among people of my sex.” She struck a pose that was dead sexy but I pushed that to the back of my mind. No time for distractions.

This week’s word for the group of writers who join together to write to a word prompt each week is chain. From the moment I saw that was the word of the week, I had daisy chains in my head. We made these when I was a kid growing up in Virginia. And as it is October when my favorite holiday falls, I decided I’d write a piece of flash fiction. I tried to keep it under 500 words but I went a smidge over.  Hope you enjoy.

Be sure to check out the other tales here.

Daisy Chain

Lady Meredith sat on the grass with a pile of freshly picked daisies on her right side. Her skirt covered her knees but she knew she’d be in trouble with her mother as soon as she got home. Sitting on the ground in a white skirt was frowned upon by the duchess but Lady Meredith could no more have stopped herself than she could’ve stopped breathing. Daisies were her favorite and the field was so full and tempting.

Moving quickly as if that would stop the dewy grass from staining her garment, Lady Meredith wove the daisies into a chain by hooking the stems together end to end. She’d made so many of these over the years, her hands worked as if on their own and she didn’t even have to look down at the flowers to keep them pristine.

She was looking up when a woman came into the clearing. A right fright she was. Dressed in a long black gown that shimmered in the sunlight, the woman seemed to glide toward Lady Meredith. It didn’t seem as if the stranger had feet, she moved so effortlessly. The black hair that matched her dress and the large beak-like nose as well as the red rash on her face made Lady Meredith repress a shiver.

Having been taught from an early age to be polite to all, Lady Meredith greeted the woman with a smile that was difficult to keep on her face. Especially when the woman smiled back with a mouth full of yellow and broken teeth.

“What are you doing here in my forest? Picking my flowers?” the woman asked.

“I’m sorry, you must be mistaken, Madam. This is my father’s estate. The Duke of Lancaster. He owns these fields but I’m happy to share with you.” Lady Meredith held up the daisy chain. It was long enough now to be a necklace. “Would you like this as a token of my esteem?”

“We both know one such as you has no use for one such as me.” The woman pointed to the chain of flowers. “You put it on.”

Hoping to make the woman happy and that she’d leave, Lady Meredith placed the daisy chain around her neck.

Almost as soon as she did, the stranger lifted a hand that looked more like a talon and whispered some words under her breath.

The daisy chain came alive, as if it were possessed. Lady Meredith tried to pull it back over her head but couldn’t. As she struggled with it, the thing grew tighter and tighter until it was choking her so hard she lost her breath.

Placing her fingers up to her throat to break the connection and try to survive, she heard the woman say, “This was my land before this place was a country. No one cares about the Duke of Lancaster.”

Lady Meredith wanted to respond but she wasn’t in any condition to do so. Her last thought before dying from strangulation from a daisy chain was that at least her mother wouldn’t scold her over her ruined gown.