He’s a litte extract from WIP, which is a new draft of a story I wrote a while ago with some whole new scenes. Here is one:
“Shep, Ollie, and now Dale… I think it’s pretty damn clear by now what’s happening,” Rhys, a curtain-haired man with a dark pointy beard, held onto Matilda’s leash. He wasn’t so much tall as confident, always standing with his back straight and with such stillness, his face not betraying his true emotions. The dog lay by his feet, crunching through bone with it’s maw.
The remaining four had gathered in a playground. It was night, so there no kids or parents around to overhear their conversation, but it was in sight of homes and offices so an ambush was less likely to occur here than in an even more secluded location. Meeting anywhere was a risk, not just because they were being hunted but because the police had to have at least put together that was a connection between the three killings. Shep was officially just missing, but by now no one was expecting to ever see him again. Yet they had to meet somewhere, and this was the best they could come up with on such short notice and it was better than speaking over the phone.
Sam Pope used to play in this park when he was a boy. Even then he was broader and more athletic than other children. He’d ruled this place like it was his own little kingdom. He supposed now he served another king, but this was still his home and he wasn’t about to let anything run him out of it. He couldn’t tell what Rhys was thinking, but Miranda and Will were both sitting on the bench and scared.
Miranda was cute when she was scared despite being a physically strong woman. She was cute when she wasn’t scared. She was just capable of wearing any expression and being gorgeous, although the expression she wore right now said that they were all screwed, while her voice said, “The only other person who was there was…” she let that hang there for a moment while the others digested what it meant.
Will’s whole body and voice trembled. “No… no way a kid did this,” he said, even though he already believed it was true.
“She must have got help,” Sam coolly answered. He wasn’t scared. Just annoyed that this had happened while he was leader.
“Well that’s great, Pope,” Will laughed, “that’s just great. How do you prepare to fight something you don’t know a damn thing about?”
“By keeping a level head. We know she’ll be coming for us so that gives us an advantage.”
“So we use ourselves as bait. Then what?”
“Then we close the trap.”
“Trap?” Again Will laughed despite the tension in his face. “You don’t know who’s helping her. You don’t know if it’s just one guy or an army. Hell, she might even be on her own. You don’t know what tools or weapons they’re going to bring. You talk good, Pope, but you don’t have a plan. You just want to wait and see what happens because you think you’re some indestructible bad-ass. It’s your fault we’re in this damn mess in the first place.”
Sam’s hand was hand was under his jacket clutching the knife he always carried. He was losing control. They used to all be scared of him, now they were scared of some eleven or twelve year old brat? It would be funny if he had a sense of humor. But for now he kept his cool. “So what’s your plan then, genius?”
“We do what we should have done the moment you screwed up. We go to the cops and we come clean about everything.”
“I’m not going to prison over some stubborn bitch and her kid. Not that it would matter – he’d never allow it. We’d all be dead before they even locked the door.”
“Maybe,” Will conceded, “but maybe we’re all dead anyway. And you know, if I was that girl, after seeing what we did, what we were going to do to her, I would be so pissed off right now that I wouldn’t just want to kill those people, I’d want to make sure I hurt them first. Really hurt them. I’d want to look them in the eye and see them ten times more scared than I ever was.”
Rhys said, “you seem to know a lot about what goes on in a little girl’s head.”
“Hate’s the same no matter who you are.”
“We’re not going to the police,” Sam insisted, considering the matter. But Will remained unconvinced.
“Then I’m out,” he stood and threw his hands up. “I’m hopping on the first bus I can and flying as far away from this shit storm as my wallet will take me.”
Miranda glared, “if you run it will look suspicious.”
“We already look suspicious,” Will told her before turning to Sam. “You can’t fight a storm, Pope. And you know one day that’s what’s coming for you.”
Will marched away. Rhys watched, remaining as stoic and straight-faced as ever, as Miranda stood next to Sam. “We can’t let him go,” she told him, “what if he does tell the police everything?”
“I wasn’t lying,” Sam said, “he’s dead if that happens. So let him run. With any luck the kid’ll catch him first.”
“But what about us?”
Sam had no idea. Will was right about that – you couldn’t plan for something whose strengths and weaknesses you didn’t know. So knowledge really was power. Until now he’d always thought that was just something wimps said to feel better about themselves. He watched Will disappearing as he tried to figure out who might know something. As he did, he had taken a few steps. The dog, Matilda, reared her head, snapping and snarling at his heels.
Sam jumped back, momentarily flustered. “You keep that damn thing under control!” He warned. He just hated dogs. It was a dog that scarred his face. He had been kicking it at the time, but they were just dumb animals. Rhys started to turn away. “Where the hell are you going?”
“I’m not going to just wait out here,” Rhys explained. “Little bitch comes for me, it will be on my own turf, where all my girls will be waiting too. C’mon girl,” he tugged and Matilda got up to trot alongside him.
Miranda exhaled, “So now it’s just the two of us…”
“No,” Sam said. “We’re not the only ones responsible for that night.”
Miranda squinted at him, eyes slowly widening as realization pushed through. “You don’t really think the old man will help?”
“He will if he thinks his own bloated carcass is on the line. Just leave it to me.”