Title Page

 

 

TALES of CRIME & VIOLENCE

 

Volume 1

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright © 2015 Paul White

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

without the express written permission of the publisher

except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

pwauthor@mail.com

Author note

Tales of Crime & Violence

This is volume number 1, in a collection of 3 books

 

 

 

The ideas and inspiration for these stories are as many and as varied as each of the individual tales.

They do not contain standard stories of theft, greed and wrongdoings, as one might expect.

 

Far from it.

 

 Tales of Crimes & Violence looks deeper into the human psyche, the mind and spirits of those involved.

 

Although all the tales in these books are about committing crime, or being involved in acts of violence, the real story being told is one of the people involved; why and how they came to be in this position.

 

Are they willing participants, or victims themselves? The innocent caught in the crossfire, or is there more to their presence than meets the eye?

 

All the stories in Tales Crime & Violence have underlying factors, deeper meanings, twists and stings to savour and enjoy.

Contents

CONTENTS

 

 

 

1  Junction City

 

2   I am a Thief

 

3   One night with Graham

 

4  Blood & Diesel

 

5   Itchy Finger

 

6   My Family

 

7   Thank You

 

8  The Perfect Crime

 

9  Snapped

 

10  Suppression

 

11  Lakeside Cabin

 

12 The Phone Call

JUNCTION CITY

 

 

 

JUNCTION CITY

 

 

 

The Motel was of a kind I only thought existed in old horror movies; seedy, run down and situated on an isolated road. The furniture and décor were faded and jaded. It even had a neon light that flickered randomly and was never more than half lit at its best.

    Once it probably looked quite nice. That is if you had a good imagination and realised that ‘once’ was clearly a long time ago, a very long time ago.

    But we were bone weary, hot, dusty, thirsty and hungry. We were off our route, off the beaten track and almost out of gas.

    So anywhere we could eat, quench our thirst and sleep for a few hours before filing the tank was good enough for me and Bobby McGee.

    I am only kidding, there was no Bobby McGee!

 

    But there was Bobby Wilson, who was riding ‘shotgun’, controlling the radio and passing me smokes.  Kathy and Taylor rode in the rear and chatted constantly about total crap and inane women’s shit like mascara, childbirth, feminine discharge and fuck knows what after that, because Bobby turned that radio up loud, I mean full volume, rattle the speakers loud, so that we did not have to listen to words like discharge and leak and period and tampons and….oh hell I don’t know because ‘Radar love’ was blaring out and us guys were singing along.

   Well, we were shouting the words out at the top of our voices. You might not have considered it singing, but we totally owned that song right then.

 

    All that was a long way back, many dusty miles from where we were now. Since that time the girls had fallen silent and fallen asleep, laying on each other stretched out across the rear seats. Bobby had turned the radio down and now some melancholy blues melody was playing gently, just audible over the noise of the tyres on the tarmac.

   We knew we were low on gas so when Bobby and I saw that gaudy Motel sign flickering a mile ahead both of us heaved a sigh of relief. Sanctuary. Civilisation.

   That relief turned to a grin, or rather a grimace when we saw the condition of the place. But we had driven far enough for one day so we drove in and stopped outside the reception office door.

   The girls woke when I killed the engine. ‘Just like babies’ I thought. Blinking they looked around, trying to decide where we were and why we had stopped. Both were bleary-eyed and drowsy, yawning as they stretched and gawkily climbed out of the car.

 

   I stood, bending backwards and raising my arms above my head to ease my stiffened spine. I then lit a Lucky Strike. Bobby made his way into the office while the three of us waited by the car.

    Bobby came back with the keys. ‘Fourteen and fifteen’ he said, tossing one set to me. I parked outside fourteen. ‘Is there any food or coffee?’ I asked.

 

   ‘Yeah, back there’ Bobby said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder towards reception. ‘They are putting out a few sandwiches and a pot of coffee for us. We’re the only ones here, so there’s no hot food ‘till breakfast.’ Bobby continued, ‘I’m gonna wash-up first, see you there in twenty.’ He followed Kathy into number fifteen.

 

   Taylor and I dumped our bags on the floor and collapsed onto the bed.

 

   ‘This is a shit hole,’ Taylor announced.

 

   ‘Yeah, but it’s our shithole,’ I laughed.

 

   Twenty minutes later we were drinking hot coffee. It was as bitter as hell but I swilled it down, relishing the feel of the hot liquid as it washed away the arid taste of desert roads. The conversation was muted. Even after freshening up in the shower we were all tired and needed sleep. As the finale sandwich disappeared from the plate and I had poured the last dregs of bitter coffee from the pot we rose in unison, an unspoken agreement understood by all present.

    It was bedtime.

 

    Walking back to the room I noticed that the neon sign had been turned off, in fact, all the lights were off, even those from where we had just come from. The only light was the faint glow from the starts, there was no moon. It was eerily dark.

  I kissed Taylor goodnight and fell instantly into a deep sleep.

 

 I was jolted awake by the screams.

 I sat up. Taylor was gone. I began to panic. Jumping off the bed I started for the door.

 

That is when Taylor came out of the bathroom. ‘What are you doing?’ she asked.

 

I was standing totally naked, peering around the half-open door. ‘Looking for you.’

 

Taylor laughed, ‘You must have been dreaming.’

 

‘Didn’t you hear the screams’? I asked her.

 

‘You were dreaming. Come back to bed, she said holding her arms out.

 

    I was still standing at the door. I pushed it slowly, glancing out once more to see if there was anything outside, anything that could account for those screams. There was nothing. I must have been dreaming, but it still felt real. As I closed the door I shivered, not because it was cold, but because I felt the tingling sense of fear wriggle along my spine.

    Taylor was warm. We lay together, her arms wrapped around me, the soft flesh of her breasts against my chest. Comforted I soon fell back to sleep.

   Only it was not an easy sleep. I kept waking, half waking, listening for another scream.

 

***

  

   Finally, the sun rose, weak rays shining through the thin tattered remnants of fabric hanging at the window masquerading as curtains. Taylor was asleep next to me. I was sitting, propped up on the pillows smoking a cigarette when there was a knock on the door.

 

‘Are you guys decent?’ Kathy called to us.

 

  ‘Yeah’ I called back, ‘come in.’

 

  Kathy came into the room. ‘You’re not decent, you’re not even dressed.’

 

  ‘I’m covered, that’s decent enough’, I replied.

 

  ‘I thought Bobby might be in here,’ Kathy said.

 

  ‘Nope’ I said, ‘he’s not in here.'

 

‘I’ll go see if his in reception, he was still hungry last night so he may have gone to get an early breakfast. See you there’..Kathy waved as she left.

 

    Taylor was still asleep so I hopped out of bed and started to shower. It was only half past six, but I needed to fill the car and we needed to head on out of here. It was going to be another long drive today and the sooner we got started the better.

    As I left the bathroom Taylor walked passed me like a zombie.

 

I said ‘Good morning, beautiful.’ Taylor just grunted and kicked the bathroom door shut behind her.

 

   Dressed, I called through the bathroom door that to tell Taylor that I was going to get breakfast and would meet her there. That Kathy and Bobby were already eating. Taylor grunted three times.

   I took a slow walk in the fresh morning air, surprised at how hot the sun was already. Today was going to be a scorcher.

 

*** 

 

   The door to the reception was wide open. I walked in, past the desk to the dining room. It was empty. No Kathy, no Bobby. Our plates and cups were still on the table from last night, only now a host of black blowflies were buzzing around the crumbs and crawling on the rims of the mugs.

    This place was desolate.

 

    Dust covered every surface, in smelt dank, stale, musty. I pushed open the door to the kitchen. There was nothing there. This may have been a kitchen once, but now it was just an empty space, cracked tiles, rusting pipes and a few wires hanging out of the wall. I was becoming uneasy.

   I walked back to reception. Looking behind the desk, it too was empty, devoid of any of the usual paraphernalia expected, no phone, no dairy, no register and no keys. I was confused. Bobby had collected the keys to our rooms from here last night.

   I call his name. I called Kathy’s name.

   Nothing. No response.

 

   Standing outside I took a good look at my surroundings. To all indications this place was closed and had been for years. Everything was falling apart and rusting away, something that we could not have seen in the darkness of last night.

   I lit a Lucky Strike. I was puzzled, perplexed in fact and getting a little more than worried about the whole scenario. I had to get back to Taylor.

    As I walked back towards the room I noticed that there was a high chain linked fence erected along the roadside of the property. The gates were open and there was a sign on them which I could not read from this distance. I walked closer.

   The sign read, ‘For sale, development potential’. Another sign, under the first, said, ‘Private property, keep out – Danger’.

   Things were getting really weird and I was shaking. My spine was cold and the hairs stood erect on the back of my neck. I ran towards the room, back to Taylor.

 

 

    Taylor was not there. Nor was she in number fifteen, Bobby and Kathy’s room. Neither were they. I started to shout, calling for Taylor, calling for Bobby, shouting all their names.

    Room sixteen was locked. I kicked the door open. It stank like a cesspit. It was cold, dark and empty, as was seventeen, eighteen and nineteen.

The only living creatures I saw were the cockroaches. It was futile breaking into the rooms. They were all desolate. I began to run around the premises shouting and calling out their names.

No replies, nothing.

 

    The entire Motel, the main building, the grounds, everywhere was deserted. It was as if they had never been here, that they had never existed.

    I found myself outside our room, room fourteen after completing another circuit of the motel. I was alone. Exhausted, frustrated and mystified. I sank to the ground, resting my back against the wheel of my car. I lit the last of the cigarettes, crumpling the empty pack and tossing it aside.

   The sun was beaming down. It was as hot a day as I predicted.

 

  Once I had smoked the Lucky I collected our bags from the room. I also got Bobby’s and Kathy’s bags from their room and piled them all onto the backseat. Getting behind the wheel I prayed I had enough fuel to get me to……to wherever the next gas station was, or the next town.

I needed help. I needed the police.

Impressum

Verlag: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 31.01.2018
ISBN: 978-3-7438-5367-6

Alle Rechte vorbehalten

Widmung:
To all who survived acts of injustice and grew through suffering to become angels of life.