Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 89259 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89259 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Chapter 25
Two o’clock. That’s what the red lights on the alarm clock next to my bed read when I sat up. Something had woke me; a noise, a loud noise. One I was familiar with, but had no desire to hear, yet my heart skipped a beat at the sound of it. More than one, there was many. I could hear them under my carport, the sound of the loud pipes echoing across the house. I looked back over at my alarm. One minute after two.
At one minute after two I was making my way to the library to open the carport door and jump into Luke’s arms. Two minutes after two. My microwave flashed green numbers that let me know that I walked really slowly, or my clocks were different. I wanted to document this. I wanted to have it stored in my brain for my grandchildren to know the exact time their grandfather and I reunited with apologies and explanations. Two minutes after two. The large clock that hung on the wall read two minutes after two and the second hand was only at six. Thirty seconds of time remained. I had thirty seconds to make a memory that would be etched in my brain for years. I would never get to have that memory.
When the door burst open it was not Luke whose arms I would run into. It was the arms of the man who had watched me, the man who I had pulled a gun on, the man who wanted to take Luke’s life for reasons I didn’t know -- the man with the scar in the red and gray cut.
“Well look what we have here.” The words that left his mouth were menacing, although he wore a smile on his face. Three large men walked in behind him. Each of them wore the same expression-hate. My feet were frozen to the floor of the library. Maybe I was dreaming. Maybe this was not really happening. “You remember me, don’t you Dallas?” I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t breathe. I tried to nod my head, but it would not move. “Well, I remember you. Take a good look at me. You are going to remember this face for the rest of your life, although I’m not sure how long that is going to be.”
His words went in one ear and out the other; although they did register and I took his advice. He stood about six feet tall. He had a stocky build with no hair on his face or his head. I didn’t remember him being bald the last time I saw him. The large scar that ran down his face drew the attention away from everything else. I could tell that at one time he was a very good looking man. He looked to be in his forties and was covered in tattoos that ranged from his neck to his fingers and everywhere in between that wasn’t covered in leather.
“You like my scar?” he asked amused. I quickly diverted my eyes to something other than his face. “Oh no, don’t look away now. This scar is important to you. Do you know why Dallas? Because the day I got it your fate was sealed.”
The evil in his voice was unlike anything I had ever heard. It was as if he hated me, yet I had never done anything to this man that I could remember. “Get her outside,” he said so low that I almost didn’t understand him until I was grabbed by my arms and drug out the door.
My adrenaline kicked in and I suddenly remembered how to move. My body thrashed. I kicked and screamed and tried to bite anything that came in contact with me. I managed to get a piece of flesh from someone’s arm and bit down hard.
“You bitch!” he yelled letting go of my arm to check his wound. I could taste the blood and saltiness of his skin on my tongue. When he let me go I was so shocked that I actually hurt him that I froze. He grabbed my arm once again and back handed me with so much force I fell sideways causing the guy on my left to catch me before I hit the ground. I felt blood trickling down my nose and into my mouth. I could already feel the swelling of my right cheek. My eyes watered as the realization of what was happening set in. They were going to kill me.
I put up as much of a fight as I could manage as they dragged me to the barn and flipped on the bright fluorescent light that hung from the ceiling.
“Tie her up,” the guy with the scar ordered, throwing a length of rope at them. I struggled harder this time. I screamed for them to stop, but my words fell on deaf ears. I screamed for Luke and my only answering response was, “He can’t help you now.” Another harsh blow landed on the right side of my face again and everything went dark.