SILENT AUCTION
by
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The chief engineer returned to the right side of his locomotive to look backwards, expecting to witness human body parts or shreds of clothing flying up in the air, riding the wind of the passing train. He saw nothing behind them. Then he instinctively looked ahead of the train, once more. There he saw a man jumping off of the front of the locomotive and rolling recklessly down the embankment of the track’s rail mound. The blonde was not as perceptive as the chief engineer and did not see John emerge from where he had briefly caught the train’s front end well enough to climb up onto it and rest for only a few seconds. But those fast seconds gave him a chance to catch his breath before he would make his attempt to jump from this moving freight train. John gathered his wits about him hurriedly, because he knew the two women were still giving chase. Across three other sets of tracks, John limped, jogged, walked fast and ran when he was able. He focused his attention on the tiny bar along this side of the tracks. It was about three quarters of a mile down Highway 18, but if he could camouflage his escape, he might elude these deadly, dangerous women and give himself yet a little more time to develop a plan of what should be done next. Shortly after the red head drove up with their car, the blonde was about to say that they had hopelessly lost their assigned target. Then she heard the chief engineer shouting and cussing at something or someone on the opposite side of the tracks. So she looked back and under the slower moving procession of railroad cars and spotted John. She kept an eye on him for only about twenty seconds, and then she lost sight of him, again. The good thing about this was she knew he was still alive. John then ran into some brush, which led into a stand of oak trees, and he was out of sight of the two women. The red head and the blonde raced ahead of the train in search of a place to cross the tracks, but this took them several country blocks out of their way. By the time they could reverse their direction and arrive at the oak trees where John was last seen, John had snaked his way toward the distant bar. At the same time, he developed a pathway that would get him off the highway, placing himself set back well behind the tavern. He would stay there as long as he knew the two false FBI agents were in the vicinity. He watched from a distance, while hiding under a hay mound, which had been cut but not yet been taken into this farmer’s barn. The shooting at his house; the madcap escape with these two beautiful obvious villains; the nerve wracking list of questions which filled his complete being; his longing to be doing something which would lead to Cindy’s safe return home; and his own species’ desire to stay alive kept him locked in position for five and a half hours. The bar was filling up. He could see this by observing the growing number of cars in the parking lot. He did not sight the car operated by his potential killers. In fact, it was not to be seen anywhere because they were off to the motel where Cindy’s condition made her a weakening slave for these two cold-blooded killers. But John remained in deep seclusion until he saw the police car leave – the one that had been called to the tavern to help handle a couple of drunken grain salesmen. It was now early afternoon.
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About the Book
The Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms Department seized a red corvette based upon an anonymous tip from the merciless Mr. B. They impounded the car and dismantled it to the point that they found cocaine buried in it. Then they stopped looking. Mr. B banked on that, and there is still something in that Corvette that he requires to enact his plot of economic terror against the US. He's waited a lifetime for this. Innocent John Rhodes has done nothing wrong, technically. John simply crossed over the line, by accepting Mr. B's Corvette, instead of the car he truly won by SILENT AUCTION. Then, within a few brief days, he is hunted down by every law enforcement agency in several states. He is assumed to be the murderer of five people, and is chased on a "lethal force acceptable" basis. Mr. B as a ransom for the car has abducted John’s wife, Cindy. John doesn't know what is in his Corvette, but he will gladly trade it for Cindy. If you have ever considered purchasing seized property from our government, you should read SILENT AUCTION first. There could be a lot more auction action than you ever conceived.
About the Author
Prior to being diagnosed with Parkinson's, Mike Herman was an industrial salesman for twenty-six years. He finished his last three years of his sales career happy to know what illness he was coping with from that time forward. He was equally happy when he realized that in his retirement years, beginning at age forty-six, his illness gifted him with time to write the many stories he conceived, while driving and thinking, an average of 200 miles per day. Mike has published three inspirational/devotional books in his Silent Echoes Series, contributed to several newsletters and to a major Madison, Wisconsin newspaper, as well as having several of his stories printed in two hunting magazines.