Ok, here's the latest chapter of my thriller, The Dying Game.
Thought I'd mention that I really like the second part of this chapter at the airport, where the story really begins to show the effects of Malcolm's situation on his family and those that care about him, and also who he is to them personally.
Would love to know what you think.
Craig
REVISED: 09/06/2008
Chapter 6
The black pickup stopped outside a wooden cabin at the entrance to a small motel complex. Inside an elderly Chinese man looked up from a news paper, and watched as Nina climbed out, Malcolm remaining inside and trying to not draw attention to himself. The man smiled, revealing missing teeth, and lowered the paper as Nina reached the cabin window, her hair blowing in a strong breeze.
"Hiya...we're going to need a room for the night. Do you take credit card?" she asked, and revealed a purse from her coat pocket, her Nurses uniform briefly revealed.
The man didn't reply, but gestured to a sign that showed the various cards they took.
"Ok, that'll be fine..." she said and pushed her card over to him. He reached for it, and his fingers brushed hers creepily, and she withdrew them quickly, returning an expression of disgust.
A door opened to a chalet minutes later to cast a large shadow across the plane wooden floorboards. Then a small beetle was crushed under the wheel of Malcolm's wheel chair.
"It's not exactly classy, but it'll keep us out of site until we can figure on a proper destination." Nina said as she wheeled Malcolm in.
Malcolm gazed around the room - it seemed nice, and at least it had a TV and a few comfy looking chairs. He also noticed a door leading off somewhere, possibly to a bedroom and bathroom.
He wheeled himself over to an armchair as Nina entered and closed the door before walking away, throwing a satchel onto a sofa then proceeding through the other door way. Soon she entered a small bathroom that looked like it hadn't been cleaned in a long time - the smell wasn't pleasant either. She closed the door behind her and ran a tap over a wash basin, then removed her jacket. For a moment she stared at her reflection in a scratched, dirty mirror on the wall and grinned at herself, before running her hands back through her hair, holding it in a pony tail for a few seconds.
Then her expression dropped as she saw something in the mirror, turned and revealed a small tattoo on her neck, just below her ear. It resembled a bar-code, with tiny numbers running along the bottom of it. As if suddenly feeling self conscious, she dropped her hair to its normal shoulder-length style, and then leaned forward to freshen up.
Eventually she returned to the main room, and walked over to the window. It was getting dark, and the temperature had dropped considerably.
"My Uncle has a cabin over in Carson City. I think that might be a good choice." she said.
"Come and sit down, will you? You're making me...well, more nervous." Malcolm exclaimed as he eased himself into the armchair, resting his leg on a small coffee table between him and the TV. He then watched the pretty nurse walk over to the sofa and drop down into it, equally exhausted.
She crossed one muscular leg over the other, sighing loudly, "This is all crazy, isn't it?" she remarked.
"Finally - you're starting to sound like a human being." Malcolm retorted.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You've been great, you really have - but you're just somebody I know - this isn't your gig. You shouldn't really be here."
"Who else was going to sneak you out of that hospital?"
"Why do you even care?"
Nina looked insulted, then sat forward, "Why do I care? I suppose it started as a crush...but over the last few weeks, I feel I've got to know you. I felt sorry for your situation; you so scared to speak to anyone, paranoid. You must really be in trouble. Why don't you tell me about it? Like it or not, we're now in this together."
Malcolm just stared at her. Could he really trust this girl with the truth? She seemed more intelligent every second, far removed from the naïve, nerdy trainee Nurse who he had befriended.
"Somebody wants me dead. Bad people. The kind of people that if you're lucky, you'll never come into contact with. I wasn't so lucky - in fact, you could say I bought it on my self."
Nina smiled sympathetically, "Thank you, Malcolm." she said.
"Thank you? For what?"
"For being honest. It means a lot that you feel you can tell me this. Please, continue."
Malcolm began to like this girl more and more. She was almost a total stranger, an outsider to his world, and that made her the perfect ally. He proceeded to confess all that had lead up to his present circumstances.
*
As night drew in, Patricia Willis sat at the wheel of a large Jaguar X-Type. She was parked in the car park outside terminal three of Los Angeles International Airport. She had taken it upon herself to come and meet her father, who was arriving back from a business trip to Washington; something about a custody battle between two high profile families.
As she sat there, listening to light rainfall tapping against the windscreen, she found herself thinking about past events; a bad habit that always seemed to crop up anytime she was alone and quiet. A little under a year ago she had been living in London under an alias, not knowing whether or not, she was guilty of murder. Later events would conspire to prove her innocence, but it didn't stop her from running those six months over and over in her head, asking questions and receiving no answers. Much of it was cloudy. She didn't recall if she had made any friends or even a lover. It had been a bad time - but she felt she was in a better place now, at least emotionally.
She then saw two figures leave the airport building, and hurry through the gradually worsening rainfall towards the car. On reaching it, the rear door was opened, and a young woman, probably about 25, climbed in wearing a finely tailored trouser-suit. Patricia frowned at her, before seeing the passenger side open, and a man in his sixties climbed in.
"Dad?" she said.
"Patricia? Where's Jeffrey, the driver?" Judge Edward Willis asked, the light from a tall street lamp high-lighting his white hair and thick matching moustache.
"I said I'd come and talk to you - we got things to discuss."
"Oh, I see..." Edward replied, and glanced back to his personal assistant, a girl called Elizabeth, "We'll have to cut things short I'm afraid...I'll see you in the office tomorrow?"
The girl looked confused, "What do you mean, Sir?" she asked.
Edward took out a crocodile skin wallet, opened it and thumbed through some bills.
"Here, get a cab. And have a little extra for your trouble."
The girl shook her head, waving a hand, then moved to the still open rear door.
"No, that isn't necessary, Sir. I have enough for the ride." she said, and then climbed out, "Bye then. See you tomorrow."
The door was closed, restoring some calm to the interior of the car. Edward then focused on his daughter, replacing the wallet inside his coat.
"So, what'd happened? Is it Malcolm?" he asked sternly.
"How did you guess?"
"I've only been away a week. He has been in hospital with a leg injury that reports are suggesting could be gang related. Do you have any idea the thoughts that have been running through my head? They're the same thoughts I've always had about that boy."
Patricia looked at her father with respect and love. From time to time, they had been at each others throats, didn't always get along, but she always knew really that he had her best interests at heart.
"He's in serious trouble, Dad..." she said after a brief silence.
"How serious?"
"He's run away from the hospital. He's scared. I think there is someone out to get him. A nurse was found dead at the same time. But I can't believe he was involved, not for a second. It was probably somebody he was expecting."
"Just tell me, Patricia...he's got some dangerous friends, hasn't he? What with his business deals and secrets...honestly, has my only son turned into a gangster?"
Patricia's deep blue eyes examined the darkness of the night through the window. The rain had turned heavy, lashing the glass.
"What do you want me to tell you, Dad?" she asked.
"I want you to tell me the truth, Patricia."
"Then he is...pretty much. Have you heard of a man called Marcus Donnelly?"
"Marcus Donnelly? Yes, of course I have. The FBI has been up his ass for years. He's big time."
"Malcolm's in partnership with him."
"What??"
"They own that club, called Tombstone."
"My God - how long has this been going on?"
"Only a few months...but I'm sure Donnelly's half the reason my brother is running scared."
Edward didn't know what to say...he had had his suspicions for a few years, but had never expected things to have gone so far. He quickly began to feel like his son was no longer his son, but in actual fact the exact type of person he had worked all his life to rid America of.
"Let's go home. I can't think straight with the rain." he said quietly, obviously disturbed by the revelation, and Patricia started the engine.
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Yaysome!!
Written by Thievesfire (77 comments posted) 7th June 2008 | Creaig I love the way you write!
The more i read the more I love your characters, Nina being the one who I find the most intriguing, Malcolm who I find I enjoy reading about the most.
The way you've revealed his past through the airport is unique and i liked it a lot ^^
Looking forwrds to the next bit!
Spooks
XX | Yo Creaig
Written by vixer805 (22 comments posted) 9th June 2008 | Hi again. just read chapters 5 & 6.
comments apply to both - more, in fact to chapter 5
Your dialogue is good. Your descriptive text could be trimmed.
In the theme of the great maxim - show, don't tell - you could chop unnecessary detail. for example, chapter 5 - hiding knickers in a drawer containing other socks and underwear. the significant bit is hiding the keks, the drawer is barely worth mentioning and the other contents of the drawer are not important to plot or character development. why tell me this. my tiny brain is already straining to keep track of who the characters are and what are their interrelations.
also chapter 6, last sentence; "Patricia started the engine, adjusting the gears, and then reversed away from where she had parked." the only significant fact is that the act of driving occours - if your readers know that they drive away, then they won't be surprised to read the next section where the same characters comtinue their conversation in a different location.
be sexy and just say, "Patricia started the engine." end. readers may or may not know how to drive, but they don't need to be instructed mid-novel.
i used the word screenplay before. rewrite with a screenplay editting ethic - cut with a machette. any word not pushing the story forward is slack, weakens the story, reduces impact and slows the pace. chop it off. subtle details are great, if they are worth their weight in meaning or emotion. pointless details must die.
nitpicks: a cupboard is not a chest of drawers. not here anyway.
one bit of dialogue between the girls (chapt 5) needs a comma - "You forgot, |
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