I was nervous when I climbed into the front seat of the shabby old van, but I was also excited. As an amateur writer and budding novelist I wrote about
all sorts of weird and crazy things, but never anything quite like this. If I survived the night it would certainly give me material for my next novel. What do you mean if you survive the night?
I heard my gran’s voice, she was back at last.
Where have you been?
“I’ve been here, watching over you. You’ve been doing just fine without me.”
With all of the doors shut and the engine running noisily, it really was an old rust bucket, Larry looked at me.
“Are you ready for this?” He asked.
“As ready as anyone can be.”
“Sheila, you don’t have to do this. We should just call the cops. Larry, let her out.”
There was silence in the van for about ten seconds, eventually broken by a husky voice from the darkness.
“You call the cops man, you’ll never see this girl again. She’ll just disappear. You aint messing with amateurs here. This is serious shit. We’re this girls only chance.”
“How do you know? You don’t know her!”
“I know who owns her. She’s money to him, nothing else. Get the cops involved and she’s worthless. She’ll be sold on, or worse.”
“Why do you care?” Jack asked, “Why do you want to help us?”
“Got a score to settle with this guy. An eye for an eye and all that!”
Larry pulled slowly onto the main road. The old van rattled and shook. I hope we don’t have to make a quick getaway ‘cos this van won’t do it.
We drove through the darkness in silence. It was thirty minutes or so before the skyscrapers of Denver lit up the horizon ahead of us. I should have been scared, but I wasn’t. I felt warm inside. Gran you’re there aren’t you? “Yes hinny, and I brought friends.”
I closed my eyes and for a brief moment I saw my Gran’s face. Her piercing blue eyes looking into mine. She did indeed have company. I recognized their faces from the locket we’d found in the bar. I looked over my shoulder at Jack. “I think we’ve got company,” I said. He didn’t reply, just sat with his head in his hands. I think he was crying.
What happens next? Follow my blog and find out. I’m a budding (late starting) writer. I published my first book ‘Dead of July’ back in 2013. There’s been a gap, where life has been to busy for me to write, but I’m back in the saddle and writing up a storm. Stay with me and enjoy the ride.