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About Varied / Hobbyist Premium Member Jay BrauschMale/United States Groups :iconalaskaaurora: AlaskaAurora
Aurora Borealis enthusiasts
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Will you make me free? by subshopautumn

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         Vicki walked a few meters down the road, gave Jack a sly smile, and to his surprise, rolled in the warm dirt like a cat until her sexy black and red leather dress was considerably soiled.  Then, she slowly stood up while messing her hair and said, "Well?  How do I look?"

         He laughed, nodded his head, and replied, "Like you had a close call out on the road from some accident.  One more thing must be done though."

         "What, you animal?  Hey!"

         Jack dropped her glasses on the ground and stepped on them.  As he handed them to her, he said, "It has to look . . . very convincing.  Besides, you look better without such things."

         "I suppose, but that's more than what can be said of Mr. Beck now.  Isn't it?"

         "Yes.  The dead get the blame for everything.  I'll go to the city and monitor police communications on my radio to see how well this is cleaned up, before you inform the junction patrol of it.  Simple enough?"

         "Of coarse," she retorted and pursed her succulent lips at him.  "See you at my place tomorrow night."

         Vicki was going to embrace him, but he put his hands up defensively and peered at her dusty bosom while raising his eyebrows and just nodded.  The clever young brunette understood and allowed him to drive onward first before doing her duty later.  Things had to be perfect for their best advantage, but both deep inside did not feel all was so, for they could not go back and cover their tracks or those of others.

         By following the activity about the event carefully on his advanced CB scanner, Jack was able to learn where the bodies of its victims were taken.  When he came to the nurse's station of the corresponding hospital, he identified himself as one of their close boyfriends and was very surprised one of them survived the crash -- barely.  They would not allow him to see her yet, but he obtained the information of where in the building she was first from the personnel and eventually found her by apparently leaving and taking different routes as a deception.

         When Veronica opened her eyes, she saw the morning sunlight softly illuminating the room and instruments that monitored her vitals nearby.  Her clearing vision soon found Jack smiling down at his prey from the other side of the bed too, and she tried to react instinctively.  However, her burned and battered body would not move.  It was covered with various bandages, tinted plastic film, and had no feeling below the neck.  Tubes led into and out of her form also, performing basic functions that she could not, but he expressed no concern or remorse for what was done.

         "It seems I just can't get rid of you whenever I want, sweetheart, but that will come.  Look," he quietly said.

         Veronica's eyes widened when he gazed at the enclosed moving bellows of the ventilator and grasped the plug of the machine.  She was still very groggy from the sedation and pain suppressors, and his intimidating voice sounded distorted, somewhat muffled through the thin gauzy fabric wrapped about her head -- devoid of any beautiful dark hair now.  Air was forced into her lungs, and she tried to plea for her meager, more fragile and vulnerable life but could only utter a short grunt through the ventilation tube.  However, he took his hand away from it again and said, "Too easy.  I could smother you in that bag or give a lethal injection in one of many places now, but there would just be no challenge.  So, I'll patiently await your complete recovery for that instead."

         After he bid her "good luck," and kissed her softly on the cheek, two doctors entered the room wearing masks and white gloves.  One of them glared at him and in a German accent said, "Vat are you doing in here?  Don't you know?  This is a sterile environment."

         "Idiot!  She's very susceptible to infection.  Who are you anyway?"  the other stressed.

         "Oh, I'm so . . . sorry," he replied, doing fine acting.  "I'm her fiance.  We recently announced our engagement, and now, this . . . terrible thing happened.  You must forgive me.  Please?"  

         "Well, only this time, but you must leave now.  You are doing more harm than good the longer you remain here."

         "I . . . I understand, doctor," he said.  Before leaving the place, he turned his head and delivered a sly wink at her.  She showed fear after hearing the dreadful news and managed to utter a louder grunt into the breathing tube while trying in vain to speak, but they merely ignored her efforts and carried out their assessment of her as two nurses also entered the room with protective garb and accessories.  One secured a thick rubber mask to her face as she continued to move her mouth to shape silent words, and the other enclosed her, with help, in a clear vinyl tent after delivering an antibiotic injection.  Then, she became greatly more subdued.  

         The nurses departed, and the doctors renewed her hopes with their prognosis.  One noticed tears streaming out of her eyes and said, "The mask is to block the passage of germs into your airway.  Be glad you are still alive and can be fully restored.  Your companion was not near as fortunate.  She was not thrown clear of the crash and burned to a crisp."

         "Ja, miss . . . Veronica.  We haff lasers and neuro-transplant microsurgery to repair your spine.  Scars from the skin grafts will be removed too in time."

         "Doctor Kleiner's right.  With our cosmetic and restructuring team, followed by effective rehabilitation, you will look and feel like a new woman upon recovery."

         "Nothing to worry about otherwise, except staphylococcus, fungal, and pneumonia infection.  Not?"  

         "Right, for now.  That's why we have to keep you under wraps until you heal on the outside.  So, you know we're not being kinky," the younger one said while maintaining a positive smile.  "Are you stubborn enough NOT to die now?"

         Veronica's chest expanded, and she grunted again only to be barely heard.  

         "There IS a way we can get you talking again too.  Do not despair.  Your condition is just temporary, and the best is yet to come."  

         The foreign doctor watched him give her a thumbs-up sign and provided further motivation.  "You vill not spoil in there, miss Veronica.  This is as bad as it gets.  Get good rest now.  Yes?"

         The other doctor patted the top of the delicate plastic confinement and said, "Oh, she sure will, or I'll get my other two angelic assistants in here again to put her in seventh heaven.  So, let's go finish our rounds before it gets too late."  

         They quickly departed, and after the door to her room closed, Veronica closed her eyes and felt paradoxical emotions induced by similar thoughts.  She wanted to rest in peace, like her best friend, but was also relieved to be alive and in a gradually repairable condition.  Her injuries were extensive and would heal one painful step at a time, without outside enemy interference, and when she finally relaxed even a little, her brain lapsed into a deep state of prolonged unconsciousness.  The last thought her fading mind had was of somehow getting ample revenge for all the harm violently done.  If not, Teresa's death, and quite possibly her own, would be for naught.  

"Making the Grade" concludes with "Passing Scores."    
         Calvin slowly ate his brown-bag lunch while pondering problems, and after about another half hour of setting up inconclusive theoretical scenarios and using foresight to try to solve them, the A-V phone in front of him buzzed loudly, and its screen came to life to show Jack's unpleasant face.  He was taken much by surprise but reacted verbally in a businesslike way and said, "Good afternoon, Mr. Donner.  I was expecting to hear from you but not so . . . soon.  What's wrong?"

         "I am not having a good afternoon.  That's what's wrong.  Tell me a story, Mr. Beck."

         "What?  What do you mean?"

         "Why are the police at my place now?  I saw them parked there from over a block away."

         "They were here with me too, including that pokey detective.  Where are you now?"

         "In the public library a few blocks away.  Are you going to tell them that too?"

         "What are you talking about?" he firmly said. "They've got to be onto me as much as they already are with you.  I know that detective noticed how well the dust was wiped away around the Sol-U-Gel canisters only on the shelf when we unexpectedly conferred in a storage room here.  The guy's no dummy.  He is even having the pool water tested in detail.  So, how much of those dimerizing granules did you use in it?"  

         "All of them that you gave me.  I wanted to do a nice thorough job with her."  

         "Oh, great!  Then, he will find evidence of that."  

         "I had a strong feeling that you'd be bothered a little, like me.  If I go down, you will too."

         "Now, stop that!  It's not MY fault both of us are in this fix, but I think I know darn well whose.  Remember the parking lot earlier?  I saw what happened there."

         "Of coarse!  Those two women, I knew it.  They reacted quite strangely when I waved at them."

         "It's HOW you waved that made them in a sense kick the can.  No doubt, the whereabouts of the other students in the coarse, at least, will be checked up on.  So, maybe we can take care of those squealing hussies before all the beans are spilled -- fast," he explained and wiped perspiration from his brow.  

         "WE have to because they deserve it.  Keep good tabs on them.  I'll meet you in a couple hours on the south side of the law building.  Any problem there?"  

         "That will be fine.  Nothing has been proven, and I intend to close this case as eagerly as you do, OUR way."  

         "Good.  Sorry I mistrusted you."  

         Mr. Beck forgave him with an affirmative nod and reassuring smile before switching off the phone to do his own necessary work.  He removed all papers relevant to the clandestine coarse and past classes from a file cabinet and put them in his attache case with other important pertinent records carefully sorted.  He also destroyed any other more superficial indications in his desk and computer that implicated him with wrongdoing that the police might later uncover.  His data went back several years, and he only could hope that he never missed anything by the time he had to meet Jack.  He knew that he would be kept under surveillance, possibly suspended, or even arrested if he did and when the police obtained all of the "lab" results.

         Mr. Donner was inside his parked transport vehicle and anxiously waiting for him to arrive just before four o'clock when he noticed the shaded area devoid of people -- perfect circumstances for a high-priority rendezvous.  Calvin came out of one of many gaps in a thick high wall of trimmed shrubbery a half block ahead; he signaled him to his position by waving an arm.  The outstanding intellectual focused his attention on him and approached, moving down the sidewalk in a brisk walking pace.  A developing smile on his face indicated that all was well, until Murphy's Law befell both of them shortly.

         When he moved past the dense foliage and was crossing the street to join him at the other side of the intersection, they heard a sudden revving of an engine.  The noise made Calvin stop briefly in a bad position -- at the middle of the crosswalk and confused as to where it was coming from, either Jack's vehicle or another of many starting up nearby.  Both of his quick assumptions were wrong, and the truth was discovered too late for him to avoid.  

         Jack could only watch awestruck as another sporty transport module already in motion slammed into the man at an accelerated speed.  He heard two dull thuds as the initial impact sent his body onto the hood and hard against the windshield head-first, before subsequent motion sent it catapulting over the roof to fall almost flat onto the pavement amidst a flurry of papers.  The vehicle turned sharply by him next, making a loud screech, and the two female passengers looked scared after recognizing his face.  "Teresa . . . and Veronica?  Damn you!" he whispered and promptly took chase.  

         Jack made a wide fast U-turn and followed the women through the university campus and the surrounding suburban setting at a more modest pace until they were out on the highway.  Each of them had ample reason NOT to see the police now, but the intensified situation demanded their presence.  The two vessels hummed along the winding roadway over the rugged open terrain according to their driver's rules only.  The police was still staking out his place a little longer, waiting for him to come home after another typical work day, but they did not know it was considerably to the contrary.

         Veronica unbuckled her seat and shoulder-belts and turned to see Jack's sleek vehicle with tinted windows gaining ground rapidly on them.  She shook her head then and said, "Can't you go faster?  He's going to get us!  I know he will."  

         "Not if we make it to the highway junction ahead of him first.  It'll be easy to lose him in Metropolis Prime soon afterward.  Everything is regulated there."

         "Yeah -- IF we do.  How far away is the junction?  You know the docking procedure takes a few minutes there.  Don't you?"

         "Yes, but its patrolled and less than twenty kilometers away now.  The Rocky Point turnoff is just ahead.  So, stop shifting about," she replied loudly.

         "I can't help it!  I'm scared!"  

         They passed some oncoming traffic and ignored the rugged and wondrous coastal scenery that seemed to float by them at over thirty meters per second.  She saw him using or preparing to use something in the front seat of his module and subsequently become more frightened when he briefly came up beside their vehicle and waved "farewell" to them with a devious smile on his face.  Teresa kept concentrating on the curvy road that sloped more upward and accelerated onward, but she gripped the dash tight, trembling, and screamed, "Faster!  I think he's armed.  He'll kill us!"  

         "I know that.  Settle down!"

         Jack's vehicle bumped theirs in the rear sharply, but control was maintained, not her.  "Teresa!" she hysterically yelled.  

         "Be quiet, Veronica!  I can't -- "

         They drove to the top of a crest, and another blue vehicle, with a dark-haired woman wearing glasses inside, horizontally parked in the middle of the highway appeared suddenly a short distance below them.  She sneered and also waved, as their vehicle was conveniently forced onto the narrow rough gravel road toward the bright evening sun from the detour to avoid a collision.  However, Teresa could not decelerate fast enough on it and lost control of the module.  Both sides of the ditch descended steep and away from the short passage on the high jutting peninsula; they sped off to the right and went into a long perilous roll downward off of it.  

         The diverted vehicle, with its frightened occupants, tumbled several times on the rocks, burst into flames while breaking apart, and finally slid to the edge of the water to stop short of where the crafty duo wished.  Nevertheless, the detouring task appeared very well done.  Jack stopped in the approach as the woman parked on the shoulder of the road, and they watched the wrecked debris together as it continued to burn and send dense plumes of black smoke skyward.  Ironically, both appeared romantic, as if viewing a scenic splendid sunset.  

         "Good work, Vicki, but one of us still has to report this event.  I'm glad that you were nearby so I could reach you on the cellphone while doing my pursuit," he said.  

         "That's nothing, honey.  Take these."

         He held her fashionable glasses.  "What?  Where are you going?"

         "Just watch."  

Continued to Pt. 6.        
          On July 20, 2014, I watched Buzz Aldrin on C-span in the morning pushing the "commitment" of our nation (with others) to go to Mars.  Honestly, I doubt that will happen in the rest of my lifetime, with it in everyone's troubles (and causing some troubles) around the world and a debt of 17.5 T.  Truly, he was of a greater age for this country, and the crescent Moon high up in the southeastern sky that morning seemed a LOT further away than it was in 1969.  Our nation currently is NOT space-faring enough to venture to Mars, as it is continuing to just get old & fat, using just a little more than 1/2 its human talent.  A bad idea to demonize Russia too (over a Ukrainian blunder), as it it the responsibility of the most powerful nations to get along with each other. 

          Since my last journal, I have not had an easy winter, still hurting from a bursitis in the heel of my left foot.  Freezing it and running it excessively on cold frozen surfaces for a newspaper route was no fun, one time in -31 F temperatures.  And colder winters are to come with the Sun in decline.  Another good reason for Ukraine to get along with its much stronger next-door neighbor.  One does not pay attention to a person's walking until you can't walk right.  So, until the foot heals, I might be called "Night Limper" at times?  In early June, my computer also sort of said Keyboard?  What keyboard?"  So, I could only surf the internet for a full week, instead of participate here.  Hmm, I wonder how long this machine will last yet?

          With the foot on the mend slowly, even after over 4 months, I did get a little more drawing done, plant a garden, and use the bicycle more.  At the sacrifice of photography submissions here, while needing to sit more, I have almost finished uploading my longest story, "The Source."  I hope I get the climax of it right, as even the "Ri's Sanctuary" breaks down.  That's next in eight parts then, followed by a long-overdue "decade" of good (?) photos.  After all, it's not easy to move through time and space, or keep to a fixed "norm" defined only by others.  Wish me and my old machine luck!  I hope to bring the Moon closer.  Mars can wait as it recedes again in the evening sky.              
  • Mood: Pain
  • Listening to: talk radio
  • Reading: newspaper.
  • Watching: C-span in the morning.
  • Playing: You Tubes
  • Eating: Garden Veggies
  • Drinking: lemonade. NO alcohol.


Nightwalker50's Profile Picture
Jay Brausch
Artist | Hobbyist | Varied
United States
A sky blogger, related data gatherer and astronomy educator that likes natural history and space exploration. Of coarse, savors the night sky and enjoys views of pretty women underwater and / or in shiny material & attire. Doesn't drink, smoke, or do any drugs. Weird, huh?

Current Residence: Western ND
deviantWEAR sizing preference: XL
Favourite genre of music: easy rock
Favourite style of art: Pop Art
Operating System: Windows XP
Skin of choice: Smooth & sensual
Favourite cartoon character: Batman


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Agr1on Featured By Owner Oct 12, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
:iconthxfavplz: on Vampirella  Vampire Female - Bite :cheerleader: v2
Nightwalker50 Featured By Owner Oct 13, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
NP.  I collected the old Warren Vampirella mags. 
Art-deWhill Featured By Owner Oct 5, 2014   General Artist
Hello Jay, thanks a lot for faving *Sky Habitat 23* glad you like it :)
Nightwalker50 Featured By Owner Oct 5, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Sort of much reminds me of a scene from one of my earliest writing works. 
Art-deWhill Featured By Owner Oct 6, 2014   General Artist
that is nice to hear :)
slamm345 Featured By Owner Oct 3, 2014
Thanks for faving!
Nightwalker50 Featured By Owner Oct 5, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Loved the poses & eye contact with the camera.  Perhaps, I'll use a pic for a drawing template -- and put her in a different world. 
51ststate Featured By Owner Sep 29, 2014  Hobbyist Photographer
sirenabonita Featured By Owner Sep 12, 2014
:iconahoyplz:  Mermaid Audrey & i thank you
The-Darkwolf Featured By Owner Aug 15, 2014
Thank you for the fave! :thanks: :)
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