I had posted this in a note over on my Facebook site, and decided to do the same here. Lately in some fits of boredom I have been running through my head some ideas for a book I'd like to write. I'm usually more of a nonfiction reader, but I think I have a pretty good basic storyline for what I want to do. I've always enjoyed writing (I was a journalism major for about 35 seconds), but I have to confess that part of the inspiration for this came from my good friend Andrew.
So anyway, this is what I have so far. I don't really know where it goes from here, I am still working on that. I know it's long, but give it a read if you have the chance. I'd like to hear any criticism, good or bad. This is something (writing) that I still feel will be a part of my life going forward, so I need any constructive criticism I can get. So without further adieu...
***
The headlights grew ever brighter in the rearview mirror. Any other time he would have shrugged it off, but this time, he knew there was something different about the trailing car's movements. Sure enough, as his grip instictively tightened on the steering wheel, the car lurched forward as steel met steel at the car's rear bumper.
"What the...!?"
The car, or now what he almost positively knew was a full-size pickup truck, rammed the rear bumper for a second time. The teenage driver whipped his head around, not to look through the high beams, but to check on the boy strapped in the car seat behind his right shoulder. The young boy began to cry. "Shhhh", the teenager said, "it'll be alright", almost as much a reassurance to himself as to the child. "I've got to lose him somehow".
He floored the accelerator, and the old V8 began to roar as it reached down deep for every extra horse it might produce. For a split-second, he thought the rear tires lost their traction as the light rain had now become a full-fledged downpour. Somehow he kept the car under control. His own headlights, dimmed with the car's age, were having a hard time cutting through the moisture-laden summer air. To make matters worse, his own sweat begin to drip into his eyes and cloud his vision. Still, the truck remained a few car-lengths behind as they went through a gradual curve on the two-lane road. "If I can just get to the straightaway, maybe I can lose him".
Up ahead, he knew the road straightened out as it came to an old bridge crossing the creek. Once past the bridge there were several turns, one of which he might could take to evade his follower. The key was to put some distance between them. He pressed on the gas even more, feeling the pedal come in contact with the exposed metal on the floor. The bridge was up ahead, and the white fence posts to his left were starting to look like one continuous line in his periphreal vision. Still, it looked like he was beginning to pull away. His breathing slacked just a bit, though perhaps he had been holding his breath for a few seconds - he couldn't even remember. He glanced again in the mirror at his backseat occupant, whose tear-stained face he saw looking out the back window. "We're almost there", he thought.
The car bounced as it reached the end of the bridge where the deck met the asphalt. He eased off the accelerator, contemplating his next move. He had to take one of the turns; or, would the truck anticipate that? Should he keep going instead? His eyes left the road just for a moment, perhaps to check the speedometer. Whatever the reason, it proved costly. Through his own perspiration and the deluge outside, his eyes focused on an object just to the side of the road about a hundred yards ahead. Suddenly, it was moving out in front of him. He slammed the brakes hard and turned the wheel. The rear of the car swung to the right, and he fought with the wheel to regain control. It was too late. The car skidded off the left side of the road and went into a roll. The child screamed. The teenager braced himself and prepared for... the end, whatever that would be. Finally the car came to a rest, sitting up, at the bottom of a revine just above the water's edge.
It might have been only seconds that passed, or it could have been hours. The teen shook his head, which was now throbbing with incredible pain. He tried to clear his blurred vision as he looked out the broken glass of the front windshield. His first thought was not to help himself, but to check on his young passenger. He slowly started to turn around. A searing pain shot through his right arm. "Something's probably broken", he thought. He reached back with his left arm and touched the toddler's body. He shook him. No response. Blood was running out of his nose, but he could feel him breathing. "Help", he muttered, to nobody in particular. He opened the driver's door and fell out of the smoking vehicle and onto the wet ground.
Struggling to find his feet, the adrenaline began to flow through his body. With a somewhat clearer mind he realized he had to get back up to the road and find somebody. He started climbing a hill, slipping at first before managing to start the ascent. His right arm dangled from his body, useless. The 25 or 30 foot climb felt like a mountain. At the top he stopped to catch his breath. The rain, sweat, and now blood pouring from a gash on his forehead all mixed in his mouth to produce a salty metallic taste. He spit and started looking around for signs of an approaching car. Sure enough, one was coming from the direction opposite the bridge. He stared into the lights as the vehicle slowed and pulled onto the shoulder just a few feet from where he was standing.
Two men stepped out of what he saw to be a Ford truck. "I need some help", he choked, his hoarse voice sounding like someone else's. "Yeah, you do", one of the men shot back before stepping in front of the teen. He fell into the man's arms, his own strength now diminishing. He barely felt the ground as the man let him go, allowing him to fall into a crumpled heap. "Pick him up!" another man barked. The voice was recognizable in an insant, and the boy snapped to attention. He now realized the truck for what it was. With a burst of energy that shocked the two men, the teenager took off running in the direction of the bridge. "Get him!" the driver growled to his passenger, reaching in the truck to pull out a rifle before joining the chase on foot.
"I have to get to the other side", the boy thought, not really knowing what his reasoning was. Halfway across the bridge though, his injuries caught up with him. He tripped and landed hard on his already limp right arm. He coughed, and it hurt. Bad. He knew he should stand up but just couldn't do it. He closed his eyes as the two pursuers reached him. He gasped as one man kicked him in the stomach, and reached to cover himself with his left arm. The two men pulled him up to his feet and pushed him against the railing on the side of the bridge.
"Didn't I tell you not to run, you little bastard?" he heard the more familiar voice say, though it echoed through his pounding head. He felt the older man's hot breath just inches from his face. He tried to open his eyes but they refused. All he could think was, "please let another car come down that road". But none came. "Just finish him off, he's caused us enough trouble", the other man said. The teenager heard a familiar metallic "click", a sound he knew all too well from years of hunting in the woods behind his house. He felt the cold point of the gun barrel on the side of his head, for an insant almost helping to relieve the awful headache. His eyes still closed but his other senses seemingly heightened, he thought he could hear a young boy crying in the distance. "Please help him", he started to say, but didn't finish the sentence. The older man whipped the gun around and with all the force he could muster, rammed the butt of the rifle into the boy's stomach. The blow lifted him off the ground and back, and over the bridge railing. He was powerless to stop himself. The world around him became a slow-motion blur, as he flipped around to see the men standing over the side watching his descent. He saw light bouncing off the raindrops falling around him, and thought he heard the boy crying one last time. Finally there was a brilliant flash that seemed to completely surround him, and the pain escaped his body. And then...
If you notice, on the south side of the stadium there is a baseball field that was once used by Coffee High School. Well, as you know that school no longer exists. Florence High School plays their baseball games at the former Bradshaw High School. This field may be used by a JV team, I'm not sure; regardless, baseball fields are not hard to replace. In my opinion, this piece of land should be used to build a parking deck for gamedays. This would obviously solve a lot of the parking problems and put you directly at the field when you get out of your car. Also, the deck could be used by UNA students during the week (with the shuttle buses used to take students to campus).
This picture is looking towards the south endzone at Braly. If the parking deck is rising above the field there, why not add an additional bonus: a couple of luxury boxes on the end facing the field, a la what was done at Bryant-Denny Stadium? Some new concession stands could also be incorporated, perhaps offering some "higher end" foods than what you find currently.
