Monday, April 3rd, 2017
This book of about 53k words took me three weeks to write. I just have some tidying up to do with it now. these are two of the Chapters.
‘Deke drove off into the night with Susan beside him. No one followed him. He made sure of that. It was too early for anyone else to leave, with the fun just starting. That soldier would be out for at least an hour, maybe even a couple of days. Serve him right. He’d miss all of the fun that his friends would brag about for the rest of the week. Fun for them, but not for those two stupid girls.
Despite having work gloves on to protect his knuckles before he had hit him, Deke’s left hand was still sore. He didn’t care if he’d broken the man’s jaw with that second blow. He should have done more damage to him for what he had planned to do to Susan, even castrated him, but there hadn’t been time. His friends might have followed him out to help him with her.
He went over in his mind what he should do now. His options were limited, and soon discarded.
Hospital? No. Too many questions and tests.
His own doctor? No. Besides he was out for a few days.
Police? No. Too many questions, and then they would contact the school. Anyway, he’d already contacted them.
Back to the school? Maybe!
He had Susan’s school uniform in the cab with them. He could dress her in that after he got rid of this clothing from her, and then get her back to her own bed in school. He had all of the keys to get in. Wherever her bed was. He knew where it had been a year ago, but it might have changed.
Except there was that makeup on her, and the smell of cigarette smoke in her hair. And except for her being unconscious. He’d have to get that make-up completely off her in a bathroom somewhere, and would run the constant risk of another girl walking in for a pee, and seeing him kneeling over her, striving to either dress her, or undress her, with a pile of her clothes on the floor beside them, and would assume the worst as she ran off screaming for help. Yes, that would look good!
None of it sounded doo-able. Then he would have to try and dress her in her pajamas or nightdress. She also might not be easily awoken in the morning. He’d never get her into the college without being detected, even if he took her all of the back ways.
There was only one place to go with her as she was, so as not to raise a hundred questions. She would go back with him, to his home.
She was uncomfortable beside him and fidgeted. He pulled over, once he was off the main highway, put the cab-light on, unfastened her seat belt, and encouraged her to lean against him where he could hold her close to him and comfort her. She adjusted her position to rest her head on his legs instead, and curled up there. He held her by her lower arm, conscious that his forearm was upon her breasts, and that her dress no longer covered her lower body. He felt his own temperature beginning to rise, now that the adrenaline had faded, especially when her arm moved up onto his knee and accidentally touched him in a very tender and obvious place, as she snuggled into him.
Yes, he was excited. Everything about her excited him, no matter where she was. She had always affected him that way.
He’d drive slowly, and watch for deer or other wildlife that always crossed this road, and hoped she did not become more curious about him there, as she once had been, just as he had been curious about what he could see of her.
That shocking introduction to each other had not gone in any awkward direction as it could have done. It had been the result of an accident, and they had needed to back off from each other to think about what had happened, then to come back at things slowly. Which they had been doing for the last year now.
After five miles, Deke pulled into a working garage at the edge of an isolated property. It was deserted, as he was the only one who worked there.
There were no lights on in the adjoining house. Old Mrs. Walker retired early and slept like a log. The property was ill-lit, and with a sign advertising small engine and vehicle repairs, with a telephone number.
He clicked a button on his truck visor and saw the garage door open, and drove in, before he slid out slowly from under her, replacing his body with that rolled up blanket and his jacket. Fortunately Mrs. Walker would not come out to find out what he was doing, and see Susan in this state.
He lugged various bits of equipment from his truck down over the bank behind the building, down to the Bayou there, checking first to be sure there were no alligators deciding to use the ramp to get out of the slough, and then loaded them into a small boat on the bank there. He brought other things from the back of his truck, a couple of soft sacks and a rifle, and went back for the bags and Susan; taking her last, as he locked everything up again and closed the garage door.
He was joined by a large dog, coming from the house by one of those flap doors that gave access only to the garage, so other animals would not get back in to the house, once the garage was closed, except it was a one-way flap. Out, but not, In. His dogs knew how to open it.
Meg, Mrs. Walker, would see that he had come through, late, with his truck there, and the dog gone. He spoke to the dog as he held Susan in his arms, and saw the dog climb into the boat too, as it usually did, and take up position at the bow.
Deke lay Susan in the bottom of the boat on a bundle of sacks to protect her, with the dog up front, and then the girls’ bags under her head, pushed the boat out with difficulty under its heavy load before climbing in and starting the engine. It purred quietly. He shone his flashlight to make sure she was comfortable, adjusting her legs, and pulling at her dress to get it down over her to cover her, but she was lying on it, and he didn’t want to tear it. He turned his flashlight off, feeling like a privileged voyeur looking at her there in all her glory and tormenting the hell out of him.
He motored along the main channel at low speed in the dark, until he was clear of habitations that might be disturbed by his engine, and then increased speed, put on the powerful bow light he used to hunt alligators. That powerful light showed the way through the back channels and helped him to avoid logs and stumps, but he knew the channel well. He could have traversed it in the dark.
It was as well that it were dark. With Susan feeling the heat, and constantly adjusting her position to get comfortable and cooler, he knew that she would be a disturbing vision and a sight worth seeing, but he’d better control himself and his damned curiosity about her. He could just make out the whiteness of her skin in areas that no one was usually privileged to see, and an even darker area between her legs as she relaxed. His imagination began to work overtime.
The way he began to feel for her, and the way she returned his feelings, it might not have been such a good idea, bringing her back here. If only she wasn’t so beautiful. If only he wasn’t in love with her.
After twenty minutes of steady motoring through various twisty channels known to only a few, he ran his boat up onto the shallow slope of a concrete ramp on the shore of a property, high out of the water, and began to offload everything to the shore, unhooking an electric fence, to pile his things on the bank. There were tire tracks showing where the concrete ramp ended so this was also where a raft could land to offload a vehicle or take one on.
Another dog fussed around him. It had heard him coming from miles away. He spoke to it kindly and gave it some attention. He’d seen it, as he pulled in and knew that no one had been here in his absence. One dog, it didn’t matter which one, went with him as far as Mrs. Walkers place. One dog stayed. They decided, if he didn’t.
“Yes, I got you some special food, as though you needed any. And yes, we have a visitor, Susan. You’ve never met her, but you’ve often heard me talk about her. She won’t know anything about this place for a few hours, so you don’t have to lick her just yet. She’ll wonder where she is and what the hell she landed into when she comes too, and might be as mad as a wet hen, or is just damned scared; scared would be better, but it will be a better experience for her than it might have been.” Better, for sure, than what was happening to those other girls about now, with men all over them.
He hooked the low-lying electric fence back up again. It was a deterrent for large alligators, but not much of a deterrent. The only sure thing to deter them was his rifle.
There was a market for alligator meat and skins, but he’d already harvested the larger ones. He’d stopped their predations on the younger and smaller alligators, giving those smaller animals a better chance at survival, and a better shot at growing to adulthood, where they didn’t before.
He looked upon it as wildlife management in his own little fiefdom. Hell, he owned the whole place, about 1000 acres of swampland. Moose Pasture, others called it scathingly, not seeing the value that he did.
He’d boost the power to the fence again when he got chance.
He also had an order for another alligator from the local restaurant, so he would watch for one, go farther afield, or wait for another telephone call from some homeowner who had seen one crossing his lawn, and wanted it removed. Permanently. There was a market for alligator skins, and he had a license to cover all that he did. It was a public service.
He carried Susan into the largish modern style log cabin, put the lights on and laid her on a settee in his living room, not bothering to try and pull her dress down to cover her. It was a waste of time and effort, and he’d have to undress her anyway. He was the only one here. He’d get his other things later.
He would run a bath for her and get her settled. Sure, his imagination and his hormones might run away with him, and he was curious about her body and everything about her, always had been, what man wouldn’t have been? But she was safe now.
It was cooler in here with the air conditioner running all day. He had worked for the last three years to build this place, while he had continued to live mostly with his foster mother, Meg Walker, back at the small garage, which was also his office and his working base. He rented the place from her and it gave her an income while he kept an eye on her, or one of his dogs did. He took her in town to shop every Saturday, and to get together with her friends. She didn’t much like to drive herself, but she had a car in one of the bays of the small garage for those times he wasn’t there.
He went back to the boat for the rest of his things and to tie it off.