Original Work The Big Quake.

The following story contains adult language and themes, so reader desecration is advised.

This story is already written but needs editing so I will post chapters as they come available.


All I ask is for honest feedback, follow and enjoy,

CT.

 

The Big Quake - Chapter 1

Jim Parker leaned out of his cubicle - one of thirty, identical, tiny, partially walled-off workspaces - in an old, one-story office building in a rundown, industrial complex on the outskirts of San Francisco. Once he had his head in the narrow passageway, Jim checked the oversized clock on the far wall of the call center and compared it to the time on his wristwatch which always seemed to be running slow and saw that it was four thirty-seven. Jim thought woefully, I hoped it was five o’clock already, but what I really wish was that I had looked harder to find a new job when they laid me off from my job at the dock. I actually miss unloading the catch of the day, life was so much simpler when I didn’t have to con innocent people out of their life savings to earn a decent wage.

Then Jim sighed to himself, But I had no other choice. I’m a thirty-year-old, single man with mounting credit card debt and I’m two months behind on my rent. My last girlfriend left me ’cause I’m broke and couldn’t afford to take her out anymore. On the other hand, I should be grateful ’cause Mandy had an insatiable appetite and was starting to pack on a lot of extra pounds, just like my other girlfriends did. I know I’m not much of a looker, some might even call me homely, but, darn it, I shouldn’t have to settle for dates with women who have their own appearance issues.

His mind shifted back to the clock and he reflected, Man, time seems to move slower the closer it comes to quitting time…

Suddenly, his supervisor came out of nowhere, as usual, and interrupted Jim’s thought with a rude shout, “Hey! Parker! Maybe the reason you haven’t met your quota this week is because you spend half of your time looking at the clock!”

Jim pulled back into his cubicle, punched the autodial button on his phone and waited for the computer to call another random prospective client. When a female voice answered, Jim went into his practiced pitch, “Hello, may I please speak to the lady of the house?”

“Speaking. Who’s calling?” the woman answered and asked.

Jim continued, “My name is John Miller and I represent the Luxurious Vacation Resort Company and I’m calling to tell you that you have just won first prize in our vacation drawing for a three-day, two-night stay at one of our luxurious condominiums! Congratulations!”

“I can’t believe it! I never win anything! Where is the resort?” the woman replied excitedly.

“Well, it looks like today is your lucky day ma’am. We have SIX luxury resorts for YOU to choose from, but before you choose, I will need to get some information from you, so I can send you your free vacation package which will include brochures to all of our properties,” Jim insisted.

Once Jim had the woman’s name and address, he informed her, “There will be a short, daily presentation that you will have to attend during your stay where you will be presented with an opportunity to join our exclusive club of private timeshare owners…”

When he finished the cold call, Jim completed his contact file on his computer before he sent it to his supervisor’s inbox, then he pushed his chair back to check the time again. When he saw that it was two minutes to five, Jim pulled his headset off, shut down his computer and gathered his things - including his Bug Out Bag which he kept under his desk - so he could clock out on time.

As Jim waited in line for his turn at the time clock, he checked his watch to compare it to the one on the wall again and mentally concluded, This piece of crap watch is even further behind than normal! I really need to get a new watch! Just as Jim was punching his timecard, the building shook with a thundering growl, ceiling tiles crashed to the floor and the cubicles began to topple like dominoes. By the time the giant clock fell off the wall, Jim was huddled under a nearby desk with two other employees and while the ceiling completely caved-in, Jim closed his eyes, clung to his BOB and said a prayer.

When the shaking subsided, Jim managed to claw his way out from under the desk and rubble. While terrified screams filled the air, he dug out his two, battered, bruised and bleeding coworkers and, once he was on top of the pile of debris, Jim checked himself over amazed to discover that he didn’t have a scratch on him.

The moment that he was satisfied he was uninjured, Jim crawled over the mountain of rubble and began searching for other victims who he could help dig out. About an hour later, sixteen survivors finished moving the injured and dead they found away from the building’s wreckage.

Exhausted by the effort, Jim took a break and leaned against a car in the parking lot while he sipped from one of the four water bottles he had stashed in his BOB. When he turned on his portable emergency radio, a stern voice droned, “…National Emergency declared for the entire west coast from San Diego to Washington state… A magnitude nine point three earthquake has devastated the entire coast… A tsunami warning is in effect for the entire coast as well as Hawaii and Alaska… All citizens are advised to seek higher ground if you are near the coast, otherwise shelter in place until aid arrives… Standby on this frequency for more emergency broadcasts… This has been an Emergency Broadcast from the National Emergency Broadcast Network… I repeat… a National Emergency declared for the entire west coast from San Diego to Washington state… A magnitude nine point three earthquake has devastated the entire coast… A tsunami warning is in effect for the entire coast as well as Hawaii and Alaska… All citizens are advised to seek higher ground if you are near the coast, otherwise shelter in place until aid arrives… Standby on this frequency for more emergency broadcasts… This has been an Emergency Broad…”

As soon as Jim realized the extent of situation, he turned the radio off and shifted his mind to concentrate on his own survival, “Higher ground is NOT an option for me considering where I am right now.”

Jim’s supervisor held his cellophane high above his head and attempted to locate a signal, but when he didn’t find one, he asked the rest of the survivors gathered in a tight group in the middle of the parking lot, “Is anybody getting a signal?”

Several of the others held their phones up with no luck and the one of them muttered, “The towers must be down…”

Jim interrupted the group with a dire warning, “A tsunami is on the way! We have to find shelter NOW!”

Everyone was stunned and started to panic when they realized the meaning of Jim’s revelation, but they all just stood there while Jim frantically looked around for his own shelter. When he saw a tanker truck parked at the rear of the lot he sprinted toward it and, just before he got to the truck, Jim heard the thunderous crash of a giant wave heading his way. Jim scrambled up on to the side of the truck and yelled for his coworkers, “Come on! Follow me! Hurry!”

 

The Big Quake - Chapter 2

He turned and saw that they were all frozen - like startled deer in the headlights of an oncoming car - and their eyes were all focused on the incoming threat, so he turned back to the tanker and decided, “I’ve got to save myself…” Jim managed to open the inspection hatch on top of the tanker and, just as a twenty-foot-high wave of debris came into view, he dove headfirst into the empty tank.

The wave collided with the truck with such force that Jim was tossed around inside the confined space like a rag doll and, when he was thrown against the maintenance ladder, he held on with everything he had. Water and debris poured into the tank through the open hatch and Jim was soaked to the skin, but he held on like his life depended on it.

Finally, the tanker came to an abrupt stop and Jim was relieved until he saw that water was continuing to pour in through the open hatch at an increasing rate and, when it was at chest-level, he climbed up the ladder to keep his head above it. Before he knew it, the tank was full and Jim had to hold his breath underwater while he scrambled his way out through the open hatch. Once back out on the surface, Jim bobbed around amid the debris before he managed to hoist himself on to part of a wooden roof and rode the structure inland.

When it crashed up against the residual portion of a collapsed building, Jim grabbed hold of a tangle of rebar which protruded from the shredded concrete wall, climbed to the top of the remaining wall and attempted to control his breathing to keep from hyperventilating. While he sat atop his tiny atoll, Jim watched the water slow and eventfully stop, before it began to recede at an ever-accelerating pace. Jim spun around and was horrified to see that all of the debris he’d been fortunate enough to avoid was coming at him again. Jim cursed aloud then climbed halfway down the backside of the wall, clipped the belly strap from his BOB around a tangle of rebar and held on with what little strength he had left. After what seemed like an eternity, the water subsided and Jim felt done in and a great deal worse for wear as he managed to mutter, “But at least I’m still alive.”

He unclipped his belly strap and climbed down to the undercarriage of a car which protruded upside-down from the mud and rubble and Jim stood to survey the devastated area. The once magnificent “City by the Bay” had been reduced to a wasteland strewn with fragments of structures and littered with carnage as far as he could see. In the distance, he heard the faint bleating sound of a car alarm going-off, but otherwise it was eerily still.

Jim strained to see if he could see other survivors, but uncontrollable shivering interrupted his efforts, “I’m soaked to the bone! I must have been really pumped-up with adrenalin, but now I’m starting to come down off that high. If I don’t find a way to dry out and warm up soon, I’ll go into shock, hypothermia will set in and I’ll succumb to it before I lose consciousness and die.” Desperately, Jim looked around for some kind of shelter until he spotted a fishing trawler laying on its side a couple of hundred yards away and fought his way through the waste and muck toward it for a chance of survival.

By the time Jim reached the derelict boat, he was beyond exhausted, his legs were numb and the strength in his arms was nearly depleted, but, somehow, he managed to pull himself over the rail and crawl down on to the littered deck. Jim made his way to a hatch and used the last of his strength to open the door to clamber into the small space.

Once inside, he forced his unfeeling fingers to open the zipper on his BOB and dumped the contents on the floor. As soon as the sealed Mylar bag fell out, Jim used his teeth to tear into it and, when he had his long underwear, wool socks and wool cap free, he started to shed his wet clothes. By the time the ordeal of stripping was finally over, Jim was so taxed that he dropped down naked in the notch between the cold, steel deck and the bulkhead while he tried desperately to breathe. Slowly, a sense of calm overcame him, his breathing slowed and he felt as light as a feather, so Jim allowed himself to enjoy the feeling of warmth and was about to surrender to sleep when his will to live kicked in, so he sat up and started to repeatedly slap himself in the face as hard as he could manage.

The moment that he felt one of the blows, Jim concentrated all his effort on getting his legs into the thermal underwear. Once he had the bottoms on, he shifted his attention to the shirt, next came his socks and, finally, his wool cap. When he was clothed, Jim inched his way toward a nearby doorway and pulled himself along a set of stairs which rested on their side with the rest of the boat. When he reached the crew’s berthing area, he burrowed between two mattresses which had been thrown up against one bulkhead and, it was only after that effort that Jim allowed himself to fade off. Sometime later in the night, he stirred in the dark, felt around until he found a blanket tangled in a set of sheets and did his best to wrap himself up in the mess before he faded off again.

The sun was already high in the clear blue sky and warmed the stranded hull of the trawler as Jim began to wake up from his nightmare and struggled to crawl out of his tangled cocoon. He found a place to sit atop an old trunk pinned against the bulkhead and, while Jim sat amidst the crew’s cluttered berthing area, his eyes adjusted to the dim light which, somehow, managed to force its way and glow through the filthy port light.

As soon as he had his bearings and, after he remembered where he was and how he got there, Jim dug through the piles of bedding and clothes until he found a pair of rubber boots and a Mustang Survival Suit which he freed from the pile. The boots were a size too big and the Mustang Suit reeked of dead fish, but he put them on anyway, “Man, my whole body aches and my mouth is dry, but I’m alive and I feel blessed that God spared me.”

Once he finished saying a prayer of thanks, Jim worked his way back up on deck where the bright sunlight lifted his spirits, but when he discovered that his three remaining water bottles were crushed and empty, his morale was dashed again, but he shrugged it off and sighed, “Oh, well, I can’t dwell on things that I have no control over or let them get me down, so let’s see if anything’s happening out there.” He looked out over the area toward the sea and found that the destruction was even more unnerving in the light of the day and that he could hardly take it all in. Jim turned away from the desolation to work his way to the bridge of the trawler and, once inside, he searched the drawers until he found a pair of binoculars.

Jim climbed to the far side of the grounded vessel and, as soon as he was as high up as he dared to go safely atop the lopsided cabin, he used the binoculars to search for other survivors. After a half an hour without success, he worked his way down off his perch and into the galley where he found several #10 cans of vegetables and a bottle of rum which had been thrown from their storage cabinets. He set the bottle of liquor aside and used his P51 can opener to make two slits in the top of a can of peas so he could sip the juice from the can.

The distinct sound of a helicopter startled Jim, but it also renewed his hope, “I’m not alone after all!” He set the #10 can down and scrambled up on to the high side of the deck and scanned the sky until he saw an “Eyewitness News” chopper fade-off in the distance. Jim worked his way back to his perch atop the cabin and used the binoculars to watch the retreating aircraft. When he spotted another one approach from the west, Jim waved his arms above his head and called out ecstatically, “Over here! HELP!”

Jim watched the chopper come toward him and was overcome with relief at the thought of being rescued, but, when the helicopter only slowed slightly, hovered over him and resumed its original course, he was disappointed and confused, “What? I know you saw me! Wait! No! Come back!” He calmed himself after he realized, “They didn’t pick me up because the pilot probably has a more pressing matter to attend to.”

He watched the second helicopter join the first and the two circled above the tallest structure on the horizon which Jim barely made out as what was left of what was once a large building. Eventually, one of the choppers descended close to the structure and after a few minutes it rose again only to stand-off as the second one repeated the maneuver.

Then the two helicopters headed right at Jim, flying one-behind-the other, so he waved his arms as they approached, but the first bird continued unfazed while the second slowed, hovered close to Jim and descended until the rotor wash threatened to blow him off his perch. The pilot was so close that Jim could make out the sad expression on his face as he slowly turned his head from side-to-side before looking over his shoulder.

Jim followed the pilot’s gaze to see a half-dozen tiny faces pressed against the windows of the overloaded chopper and knew in an instant, “I’m low on their list of priorities for rescue.” Jim gave the pilot a “thumbs up” to let him know that he understood and waved to the children as the chopper flew off. He returned to the galley, retrieved the can of peas and, as soon as he had all the juice sucked out, he opened the can and went back to his perch to eat while he periodically scanned the grim, desolate and foreboding area surrounding the trawler.

During the afternoon he spotted several other helicopters in the distance ferry back and forth and prayed, “Please, God, let them get to me soon.”

Before it got dark, Jim did an inventory of the vessel and staged some bedding and supplies in the pilothouse where he used a hatch cover and some makeshift bracing to form a level platform to sleep on. In the engine room, Jim filled several pots with diesel fuel and made an oil lamp from the empty #10 can of peas and a rag. He rummaged through the clothes in the berthing area and managed to find a better fitting pair of rubber boots as well as a pair of blue jeans and a wool sweater.

Once he was satisfied that he could make it through the night comfortably, Jim settled down in the pilothouse and watched the ruined landscape fade from view with the retreating sunlight. Just as Jim was about to turn in for the night, a flashing light on the horizon caught his attention, so he climbed out the high door to get a better view.

He noticed there was a pattern to the blinking light, so he went back inside the pilothouse and used his lamp to go through the books on the shelf, “After all of the tours that I took through the fishing boats at the dock where I worked, I learned that the captains all have a signaling book. I know it has to be here somewhere…” When he found one marked International Flags and Signals, he flipped through the pages until he found the Morse Code Chart and took the book, a stubby pencil stuck in the book’s spine and his lamp back up on deck.

Jim wedged the lamp into a tangle of rigging before he started to write down the series of dots and dashes in the margin of the book, “SOS… SOS… QSL… QSL… SOS… QSL…”

When the message started to repeat itself, Jim decoded it and understood “SOS” without having to look it up, but was at a loss for what “QSL” meant. He used the index in International Flags and Signals to find another set of signals used for HAM radio operators and discovered that “QSL” meant “confirm”, so he tore the inside cardboard leaf from the book used it to shield his lamp to form dots and dashes to signal back “QSL… QSL…”

A barrage of flashes fired back with lightning speed and Jim was unable to keep up, so he surrendered and consulted his book while he waited for them to stop. When the blinking ceased, Jim sent back, “QRS1” which meant, “send more slowly” with the “1” meaning “at the slowest possible speed.”

Twenty-five-year-old, Elga Flum tried to keep her excitement in-check while she calmed down and resent her message, as slowly as she could, one letter at a time. Elga was totally lost and unprepared for the situation she found herself in and, while she waited for the stranger’s signal, Elga mused about what brought her there, Papa wanted me to continue my modeling career because he enjoyed the fame and the money I brought him when I won the coveted ‘Miss Cod’ title, but I insisted that I wanted more from life than to be a sex symbol. Even though I reached for my dream, studied hard and graduated first in my class at the Radio Telephone Academy in Oslo, I know that without Papa’s reluctantly pulling in several favors, I would never have gotten my dream job to travel the world as the newest radio operator on the Norwegian freighter, Gunter III.

When I called to let him know that I made it safely to California, he told me that he had already bragged to the other security guards at the canning factory that he would be getting an American-made flashlight that would put all of theirs to shame, so I told him that I would buy him “The Mighty Big Super Blinding Bright Magnum Flashlight” when I was on shore leave in San Francisco.

Just as the earthquake hit, I was completing my transaction for the flashlight and stuffed my purchase under my coat to keep it from breaking. One of the clerks warned us about the approaching tsunami and I managed to follow the frantic crowd up to the roof of the department store with several of the store’s workers before the giant wave actually hit. I counted my blessings when my luck held and I was the only one that managed to hold on to an abandoned, empty water tank that was loosely bolted to the roof. It was all I could do to climb inside before the tank was forced into the torrent of rushing seawater and came to rest on top of another demolished building a mile away. I am accustomed to the cold, but I still spent the first night shivering and alone in the tank.

When daylight came, I climbed out and sat in the sun to dry my wet clothes, but, while I waited to be rescued, I was thirsty and hungry. I watched several helicopters pass overhead without stopping and I attempted to signal them, but the big flashlight was of no use because the sun was so bright. I bided my time and waited for nightfall before I sent my “SOS” out into the darkness.

Jim copied the signal along the other margin in the book and, when it repeated a sixth time, he was sure he had deciphered it to read, “SEND HELP. NEED WATER. FOOD. QSL.” He checked his book, found the code for “tomorrow” and sent back, “QSL…TMW.” Jim waited for a response and when he received “DASH DASH DASH DOT DOT… DASH DASH DASH DOT DOT…” repeated over and over, he was at a loss until he found it as the last entry on the chart. “88” was out of order, almost as if it were an afterthought entry and meant “love and kisses.”

Jim was familiar with the openly gay lifestyle in San Francisco and he hoped that he wouldn’t be disappointing the sender when they met up tomorrow. He used his marker to draw a line and arrow toward the light on the roof of the trawler so he would have a bearing in the daylight before he went below for some well needed sleep.

 

The Big Quake - Chapter 3

In the morning, Jim gathered his gear, repacked his BOB and added two, one-gallon vinegar bottles he’d emptied and refilled with the juice he’d pressed from several #10 cans of string beans. He put the string bean pulp into a plastic bag and tied it to the strap of his BOB before he set off in the direction the arrow - he’d drawn on the pilot house roof the night before - pointed.

The going was tough, but he persevered and, after a couple of hours, he saw someone waving a white cloth as they stood in front of a water tank atop the roof of a two story building. As he got closer, Jim’s progress came to an abrupt halt at the edge of a large, five-foot-wide, crevasse, so he backed up to attempt a running leap across it, but came up short, hung on to the edge of the fissure for dear life and struggled for what seemed like hours. Just as his strength began to fade and he felt himself slip toward a certain death, he zoned out.

When he came-to, the face of a blonde goddess hovered above his and Jim was convinced, I know I’m dreaming, but I’m afraid, that when I wake up, I’ll really be splattered in a mangled heap at the bottom of the ravine, so I’m just gonna lay still and enjoy this fantasy as long as I can.

The vision asked, “Do you have any water?” Jim just smiled and let himself bask in her beauty until she began to shake him and demand, “I’m talking to you! Do you have any water?”

He stared at his vision and blinked repeatedly, but the more he tried to clear his head, the lovelier she became, so he forced himself to speak, “Are you an angel?”

Elga grabbed the collar of Jim’s stinky Mustang Suit and yelled, “Look! It’s a simple question! DO YOU HAVE ANY WATER????”

Jim thought he was out of his trance, but the vision was still holding him by the collar and had a disapproving look on her face, so he offered, “Well sort of… I mean, I have something to drink that isn’t really that bad…. Not really… I mean… It has a sort of bite to it is all…”

Elga removed Jim’s BOB from his limp shoulders and opened it, pulled out one of the gallon jugs, twisted the top off, brought it to her dry lips and guzzled down the green water to slake the insatiable thirst she’d built up during her ordeal. After several swigs, Elga stopped and grimaced before she held the jug up to her lips again, drank all she could, wiped her lips and insisted, “You weren’t kidding, this water sure does have a bite! It’s like pickled green bean water. Thank you, I like it, I really do!”

Jim just looked into his fantasy’s eyes and drifted back off to dreamland. About ten minutes later, Jim came to his senses and found himself alone on the muddy ground, so he sat up, If it weren’t for this Mustang Suit, I’d be wet and cold, but I’m comfy and dry and what the hell is she doing?

What he was seeing made him question reality. Elga found Jim’s stash of green beans and was eating them from the bag with her fingers, the mere sight of the woman of his dreams licking her fingers sent Jim into a heightened sense of arousal and he managed to stutter, “What’s your name angel?”

“I am Elga Flom, but you can call me Elga if you like,” the vision replied between mouthfuls of mushy green beans.

“Nice to meet you Elga Flom. My name is Jim… Jim… umm,” Jim stammered because his last name was beyond his grasp at the moment.

“Nice to meet you too Jim Umm,” Elga replied with a beautiful, warm and inviting smile which melted Jim’s already besotted heart.

Since Jim Umm just sat there staring at Elga without saying another word, it made her feel self-conscious, so she held out a generous pinch of green bean mush and offered, “I’m sorry. I’m being rude. Would you like some?”

When Jim saw the silky-smooth, alabaster hand with the glob of green mush headed for his face, he closed his eyes, opened his mouth and let the dream continue, but because he thought it wasn’t real he choked on the wad of mush. He struggled to cough it up as Elga patted him on the back and that’s when he realized, I’m NOT dreaming and I’m actually choking to death in front of this beautiful woman I just met.

Jim managed to spit-up the obstruction and, luckily for him, it missed his new companion, so when he could speak again, he bleated, “I’m… I’m so, so sorry! I don’t know what happened!”

“It’s okay, Jim Umm. You saved my life. I could never be unhappy with you,” Elga explained warmly with her amazing smile then wrapped her arms around Jim and kissed him on his cheek.

He sat there, afraid to move and considered, I should correct her wrong assumption of my last name, but it’s my own fault, so she can call me whatever she wants to.

As soon as Elga finished eating, Jim escorted her back to his lopsided trawler and makeshift home where they could hole-up and wait to be rescued.

Once they were onboard, Jim searched the vessel and found an access cover to a day tank which was half full of fresh water as well as a dry storage locker below with lots of food. He washed up, changed into clean clothes and even managed to find a bottle of cologne to try and mask the stink he’d picked up from the Mustang Suit.

After a little hard work, Jim managed to tear the gimbaled stove in the galley free from its mount and make it somewhat level. He turned on the propane and prepared a large pot of pasta smothered with a can of tomato sauce.

They ate their dinner on the top of the bridge while they took turns with the binoculars and scanned the area for any sign of others in need or the arrival of rescuers.

After it got dark, the two settled down to share the makeshift, platform bed in the pilot house, but when Elga pressed up against Jim to share his warmth, his mind raced and he was too excited to sleep a wink. However, well after midnight, Jim did manage to drift off and dreamt that he would never be rescued.

Convicted rapist and murderer, Albert Smitts, was in a bus on his way to a Federal Penitentiary where he was to serve two, consecutive lifetime sentences for his brutal crimes when the earthquake hit, but after the tsunami mangled the prison bus, Albert managed to escape from the debris, unscathed. He traveled nonstop that night, but exhausted and near collapse, Albert took momentary shelter in an overturned tractor-trailer rig.

Before setting off again, he stood atop the semi to survey the area and took a break to drink the last of the warm cola from a two-liter bottle he found in the debris. When he caught his breath, Albert tossed aside the empty bottle, readjusted the butcher knife in his waistband and pressed on throughout the night with the hope of getting clear of the disaster zone before he was discovered.

Jim woke to the smell of the coffee Elga brewed and, when he sat up, she offered him a cup along with a warm smile, “I like you Jim Umm, you’re a real gentleman.”

“Thank you Elga I like you too, but I wouldn’t call myself a gentleman,” Jim replied honestly.

“Yes you are! You didn’t even try once to have your way with me last night!” Elga insisted.

“I could be gay,” Jim offered and tried to hide the fact that he was uncomfortable with women - especially one as beautiful as she was - and assumed, She wouldn’t want to have anything to do with me in an intimate way.

“You are NOT gay Jim Umm! A woman knows these things and you could have had your way with me last night if you wanted to. I really like you!” Elga insisted and gave Jim a peck on the lips before she quickly turned away to let him think it over. Then she climbed out of the pilothouse to return to her lookout vigil.

Albert froze in his tracks when he caught sight of movement onboard the beached fishing trawler and crouched down to observe the figure before he continued more slowly.

Elga studied the man while he headed toward her and worked his way through the debris over many obstacles. When he was closer, she shouted down to Jim, “Someone’s coming!”

Jim stopped fishing for the toothbrush in his BOB before he grudgingly worked his way topside, took the binoculars from Elga and watched the figure struggle toward their position. Jim sighed with great disappointment before he dropped back into the pilothouse, donned the Mustang Suit and headed to the lower side of the vessel. He made his way down to the debris field and out to help the survivor come in.

 

The whole purpose of me posting the story is to get feedback and let my peers sort it out too. So thank you two members who took the time and effort to give lengthy and detailed criticism, but I have tough skin. I am not perfect and I know the story is not perfect. The more feedback the better, if I thought the story was good enough I would publish it I would have done it already.

Please post in this thread next time if you can.

Thanks for your support,

CT.

 

The Big Quake - Chapter 4

Jim reached the man and saw that he was about to collapse at any moment, so he offered, “Let me give you a hand.” When he took the man by the arm to get under his shoulder, Jim noticed the handle of a large knife protruding from under the man’s shirt and thought, My danger meter just pegged!

As he helped the man maneuver through the debris field, Jim assessed him, He’s wearing mismatched clothes that are too big for him and his shoes don’t match either, which is understandable - I mean, look at my new get-up, for cryin’ out loud! Calm down! It’s not like you can go shopping for dry clothes or anything… Oh, shit! What the fuck are those deep lacerations on his wrists from? There goes my danger meter again!

Jim continued to assist the weary and exhausted stranger as he reached down and pulled the knife out of the man’s waistband then tossed the large blade aside, Man, I was expecting a fight, but this guy is so out of it he didn’t even notice.

When they were alongside the trawler, Elga helped Jim haul the man on to the ship and, as soon as the stranger was on board, he passed out cold, so the two carried him to the berthing area.

Once they had him bundled up in several blankets on a pile of mattresses, Jim gently woke him and asked, “Would you like some warm coffee?”

Albert struggled to sit up and took a sip from the offered cup that Jim held to his lips because his arms were wrapped up in the blankets.

While he drank, Jim casually asked, “So, what’s your name?”

“Albert… Smith,” the fugitive lied because of his very public trial.

Jim stood up and pressed a little harder, “You look really familiar. Have we met before?”

“I don’t know… Maybe?” the killer replied self-consciously.

“Did you ever work down at the docks?” Jim queried.

“Yeah, that’s it! Sure! I used to work at the docks, so that’s probably where you know me from!” the murderer insisted.

“Yeah, I did too. What local were you with?” Jim closed the trap.

Albert’s mind raced, I need to find a lie that this fucker will believe, but, the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that he’ll see right through it! Acting on gut instinct, the fugitive sprang like a coiled snake only to be jerked back by the blankets he was wrapped tightly in and the vicious killer struggled to break free until he realized, Damn it! They tied me up with fuckin’ ropes too!

When the man stopped struggling, Jim asked sternly, “I’ll ask you again, who are you? Don’t bother to lie this time because I think I know!”

“Fuck you *intimate chicken kisser*! Untie NOW me or I’ll fuckin’ kill you!” the murderer spat out the venomous threat.

“Just as I suspected! You’re that Smitts scumbag who reveled in the rape and murder of innocent women!” Jim spat back with just as much intensity.

“Not just women! As soon as I get free, I’ll make you my punk-ass bitch before I waste you!” the psycho warned.

The last threat was all Jim could take from the killer, so he worked his way out of the berthing area, closed the hatch behind him and used a length of chain from the engine room to secure the dogs and trap the convict inside.

He went to the bridge to explain the situation to Elga and instructed, “Under no circumstances are you to open the door for that murderous rapist! He can stay locked up there until we’re rescued and we’ll let the police let him out.”

The two made lunch and ate atop the pilothouse while they watched several helicopters ferrying back and forth across the sky. Jim smiled and said, “I’m pretty sure that the number of choppers and flights they’re conducting have increased exponentially.”

“I think that you are right and I hope they come for us soon,” Elga remarked optimistically.

“Yeah, me too,” Jim lied and leaned over to try and kiss Elga.

Down below, Albert managed to free himself from his bindings and thought, Now, I just have to find a weapon and a way out. If I pound on that steel door, the c**t and my “bitch-to-be” will just ignore me and I’ll sap what strength I have left. I could smash out that little window… Nah, the opening’s too small for me to squeeze through. What’s this plate bolted to the floor? Now all I need is a tool to remove the plate and I’ll be outta here for my date with my new pals!

As a career criminal, Albert learned a lot in prison, especially how to make weapons and tools from just about anything. He doubled his efforts in searching the space and, when he found a loose bolt on one of the bunks, he smiled. Albert checked the other berths until he had what he needed, threaded two of the nuts onto one of the bolts and adjusted the two together on to one of the bolts of the plate until they pinched the head of the bolt.

Albert used the heel of his shoe to tap the little wrench around slowly, but effectively and, as soon as he had the plate off, Albert peeked into the dark bilge. He was able to make out a faint light, so he put his shoe back on and crawled through the narrow bilge toward the light. Once he was through the bilge, the fugitive saw that he was in an engine room, so he looked around until he found a tool box, but, when Albert saw an axe hanging on the wall, the killer smiled and dropped the hammer.

The couple were just getting into it with each other, but, suddenly, Elga pushed the overeager Jim aside and warned him, “Slow down, Jim Umm!” She stood up and said, “I’m going below. Give me a few minutes so I can wash up a bit.”

He waited impatiently, but his carnal thoughts were interrupted by his goddess’ screams. By the time Jim made it to the galley, he saw that Albert Smitts had Elga pinned against the stove with her shirt already torn off and his hand was working on the zipper of her jeans. The crazed rapist was so preoccupied that he never saw Jim come into the galley and was startled by the blow from behind that knocked him to the lopsided deck. While Jim and the maniac grappled for their lives, Elga grabbed her jacket to cover her exposed breasts and bolted out the door.

Even though this is the first fight I’ve ever been in, please dear God, don’t let it be my last! Jim thought as he, somehow, managed to side mount his exhausted opponent and wildly delivered devastating blows to the side of Albert’s head and neck with his balled fist.

Meanwhile the tried and hardened fugitive calmed himself and allowed the onslaught to continue while he maneuvered his arms and legs into a better position. Once he had his shoulder free, he twisted around and got a good, solid grip around Jim’s exposed neck. As Jim struggled to free himself from the deadly chokehold, the convict just continued to calm himself and apply enough pressure to choke his victim out. Once Jim went limp, the killer relaxed his grip and wiggled out from under the body, struggled to stand and, when he was on his feet, Albert leaned against the stove. He held himself upright and drank from the coffee pot while he savored his victory, I’m hurt bad, but if I hadn’t taken the blows I would have lost the fight.

Elga heard the commotion stop, so she called out, “Jim? Are you okay?”

The stranger replied, “You’re next, c**t!

When she heard the venomous voice, Elga leapt over the side in a panic and escaped as fast as she could.

Jim awoke with a splitting headache, completely naked, with his hands and feet tightly bound with rope. He scanned the pilothouse for Elga, but only saw the killer sitting on his makeshift bed drinking from the bottle of rum.

“Glad to see that you’re finally awake bitch! Now we can get this party started!” Albert muttered between swigs.

“Where’s Elga?” Jim managed to gasp.

“What? Your whore? She ran off, but she won’t get far! I’ll get her after I’m done partying with you like I promised!” the psycho spat.

Elga peeked nervously into the pilothouse through the debris while she watched the stranger strip the clothes off of Jim’s lifeless body and wondered, Why would he do such a thing if Jim’s dead? When she saw the man bind Jim’s hands and legs, Elga got her answer. Her mind raced while she tried to think of a way to help Jim, but her fear of the rapist kept her from formulating a coherent thought.

The killer used a rag to check the bleeding from his ear where Jim had pummeled it to a pulp and intimidated, “Bet you think you’re a tough guy don’t you? Well look at you now bitch! When I’m done with you, you’ll will wish that you never messed with me!”

“It isn’t over yet!” Jim spat back in defiance.

“Yeah! That’s the spirit! You keep it up! I like it better when they squirm! Eventually, you’ll beg me to stop, but I won’t until I’m done with you!” the psycho insisted.

“What are you waiting for then, let’s get going!” Jim challenged.

The killer put down the bottle, leaned forward and tried to stand, but was so drunk that he could hardly move, so he leaned back, retrieved his bottle and insisted, “I’ll punk you when I’m good and ready.”

“That’s what I thought! You’re all talk and no action!” Jim challenged again.

The killer put the bottle down again, picked up the axe, but hesitated and let it drop into his lap. “I know what you’re up too mister smart guy! You think you can get me to kill you before I get me some! Well it’s not gonna work buddy boy!” the inebriated and exhausted convict slurred.

While Albert finished off the rum, Jim lay quietly until the empty bottle tumbled from his captor’s hand onto the deck and, as soon as he was sure that the killer was passed out, Jim went to work trying to free his hands. After several minutes without success, he conceded that the rapist was probably well versed on binding his victims, so he changed tactics and wiggled toward the door.

 

Do you want it here or in a PM?

 

In the open please so all can see and comment if they like.

Thanks CT.

 

1st chapter- comma crazy. Maybe restructure to cut down on them. Also, when he is talking to himself it could/should be in italics. I notice it was n chapter 2.
mentally concluded, this piece of crap (this was capitalized)
Jim’s supervisor held his cellphone
This has been an Emergency Broadcast from the National Emergency Broadcast Network…<<<< is that the way they say it. could be of the
Not sure about the use of dashes.

@C.T.Horner really enjoying your story

 

The Big Quake - Chapter 5

The sun was just setting by the time Jim reached the high deck as he continued to wiggle toward the stern, it was slow going and, because he was naked, it was also painful. When he rounded the aft cabin, he was struck dumb when he saw Elga scramble over the far rail holding a large piece of metal pipe.

When Elga saw Jim on the deck she ran over to help him sit up and tried to untie the ropes that bound his hands, but the knots were too tight. After a few minutes of working at the knots, she had his feet free and whispered, “Where is he?”

“He’s passed out on the bridge,” Jim answered.

“What should we do?” Elga asked.

Jim replied simply, “Untie my hands and I’ll kill him with your pipe.”

“I can’t! The knots are too tight” Elga cried.

“Go to the galley and get a knife,” Jim suggested.

Elga left Jim on the deck and inched her way toward the hatch, but when she looked in, it was pitch dark inside, so she retreated back to the stern and, after the two discussed another plan Jim suggested, “You’re gonna have to kill him.”

“I can’t murder anyone,” Elga defended.

“It’s not murder to kill someone in self-defense and, as soon as he wakes up, he’ll kill both of us or worse!” Jim explained.

Elga thought it over and hesitantly agreed, “I guess I could try.”

With his hands still securely tied behind his back, Jim followed Elga to the pilothouse door and watched her stand over the snoring rapist. She raised the heavy pipe above her head, but just couldn’t go through with it and, when the convict stirred Elga dropped the pipe before she bolted past Jim who quickly followed her back to the safety of the deck.

Startled awake, the convict reached for the axe in his lap and swung a weak arc in front of him, but when Albert squinted into the darkness and saw no threat, he drifted off to sleep again.

Jim attempted to climb over the rail with Elga, but with his hands bound behind him it was impossible, so he retreated into the shadows of the aft deck and held his breath. When there was no sign of the killer, Jim ventured out onto the deck until he saw Elga peeking from behind part of a truck in the debris field, but several minutes went by before she gathered enough courage to return to the ship.

As soon as Elga was alongside the trawler, Jim begged, “Find something sharp to cut the rope.” After what seemed like an eternity, Elga came back with a piece of glass and used it to cut Jim’s hands loose.

Once he was free, she pushed, “We need to get out of here!”

He started to climb over the rail, but when his bare ass and his nuts hit the cold steel rail, Jim stopped dead and rethought his situation, I’m naked and shoeless and I’m about to run off into a minefield of broken glass and metal shards strewn as far as the eye can see! Adrenalin is the only thing keeping me warm and I’ll die soon if I don’t get some clothes on! Out of sheer desperation, Jim crept up the deck as quietly as he could, removed the chain from the crew’s berth door and, the moment he had it open, Jim crawled inside.

He felt around for clothing and found a pair of pants that were a bit too tight, the big pair of boots that he’d discarded earlier and two shirts that he quickly and quietly donned. Jim also managed to find a much larger Mustang Suit which he put on as well.

An hour had passed by the time Jim made it back on deck, he nearly fell through an opening, but because the boat was at an angle, he managed to stop himself before he was hurt.

Elga was nowhere to be seen, so Jim dropped off the boat to look for a weapon and, when he found a sturdy length of two-by-four, he climbed back onboard to eliminate the killer’s threat to their survival.

Silently, Jim entered the pilothouse and saw that the murderer was sprawled face down in the makeshift bed, so Jim raised his club above Albert’s head and prayed, Please, God, give me the courage and the strength to use this! While he stood over the peacefully sleeping rapist, it suddenly dawned on Jim, Elga was right! I don’t have to kill him! As bad as he is, he’s no longer a threat and, if I killed him in his sleep, it would be an “execution” not “in self-defense”!

In his mind, Jim envisioned Elga standing in front of a police officer who stared at her ample breasts while he took her statement, “So let me see if I got this straight ma’am. You say that you were stranded on a boat with two men you don’t really know. You were getting ready to have sex with one of the men a Mister Jim Umm when the alleged killer tried to rape you and the two men fought. Then you and Mister Umm managed to get away from the alleged killer, but for some reason this Mister Umm, which by the way is a ridiculous alias, goes back inside the boat and murdered the second man in his sleep? Is that it?”

As he backed away on the lopsided deck Jim slipped on the piece of pipe Elga dropped, but because of his oversized rubber boots, Jim was unable to regain his footing and fell forward onto Albert’s back.

The convict immediately woke up - alert as he could be considering all the alcohol he’d consumed - his survival instincts kicked-in along with his lifelong need to fight which allowed him to roll over and grab hold of the club Jim wielded.

The two wrestled for the two-by-four and, when the killer relented, Jim started to feel confident he’d prevail. Rather than get in a tug of war for the weapon, the trained fighter shoved it into his attacker’s face as Jim pulled, adding to the speed and force of the club which sent Jim onto his back,

Jim was dazed and stunned, but the fear of being overpowered and at the mercy of the formidable killer again, boosted Jim’s efforts to escape out the door and run for his life.

After she cut his bindings, Elga watched Jim make his way back into the ship, so she ran away and hid in the debris field. She waited for him - as the minutes which seemed like hours ticked by - to come back off the boat, but when he did - just long enough to find a big piece of wood and climb back onboard - Elga decided, I have to think about my own survival. I’m sure Jim is killing Albert right now and I’ll be accused of being an accomplice to murder! I have to leave here now before Jim comes back!

 

The Big Quake - Chapter 6

Jim dropped from the boat at the stern, then moved away as quickly as he could through the tangle of muck and waste while he frantically looked around for any sign of Elga and thought, I’ll probably never see her again, but I have to put as much distance between that murderous bastard and myself before I can look for her. He hunkered down in the shadows of the mangled mess of an uprooted parking structure, stayed as still as he could and willed himself to stay alert while he hoped, Maybe I’ll find Elga in the morning.

When the sun came up, the sky was full of activity and Jim watched a helicopter fly overhead and jettison a parachute with a small package attached to it, circle the area and drop two more before it continued on. He watched the chutes slowly float to the ground and suddenly it dawned on him, They’re dropping supplies to the survivors they can SEE! One of the chutes has to be Elga’s and the other one must be for Smitts, but which one’s which? Oh, shit! He’s gonna figure it out the same way that I just did! He looked at the positions of the two chutes and picked the one furthest from the ship before he made a bee line for it, Please, God, let this be the right one!

Smitts paid close attention and made a mental notation of where the two aid packages NOT over his head landed while he chanted sadistically, “Eeny, meeny, miny, moe, catch a victim by his toe…”

Elga reached the package that landed closest to her, opened the box, immediately drank from one of the two water bottles inside while she looked through the contents of the small package, pocketed the ration bars and turned on the emergency radio inside, glad to hear a reassuring voice. “…is stay calm, help is on the way. If you are in need of immediate medical assistance: there is an orange flag with a black circle and square on it in your package; display the flag in a prominent place where it can be seen from the air. Otherwise, stay where you are, in the open and wait for your turn to be picked up. I repeat, this is the emergency broadcast network. We have your location. What you must do now is stay calm, help is on the way. If you are in need of immediate medical assistance: there is an orange flag with a black circle and square on it in your package; display the flag in a prominent place where it can be seen from the air. Otherwise, stay…” Elga turned the small radio off and sighed with relief.

As he pushed himself and struggled through the muck and mire over millions of tiny and large obstacles in an attempt to reach Elga before the murderous rapist did, Jim silently prayed, Please, God, it’s me again, I’m sorry, but I really wished that I had killed that maniac when I had the chance! Now, I have to fight a much more dangerous fight, one that I’m pretty sure I’m gonna lose. But, somehow I’m still alive and I know there’s a chance, so, please help me, for cryin’ out loud!

The cold-blooded predator got closer to the drop point he’d selected and slowed his pace in order to approach his prey quietly, I don’t want to chase him - or her - any further than I have to. In truth, Smitts wanted to save his strength and was driven by his contemplation of the impending, brutal violation of his victim. He no longer wanted to flee the area because he liked the desolation and the fact he could do anything he wanted to right out in the open. Albert’s new plan was to take his time while he roamed the debris field and violate the helpless survivors in whatever way he pleased.

Elga picked up the orange flag and considered opening it, but hesitated when she remembered, There are people out there worse off than I am and I might take the only chance at life away from them. But, since Jim killed the rapist, he might want to kill me too, so I won’t be able tell the police. Elga reconsidered as she opened the flag, placed it on the door of a car which had come to rest on its side and secured the flag with a couple of rocks to hold it in place, so it wouldn’t blow away.

Jim’s spirits immediately lifted when he saw Elga sitting on a car in the middle of the, destruction, so he waved and called out to her, but when she saw him Elga disappeared in a flash. Confused by her sudden flight, Jim pressed on and muttered, “I wonder what has her spooked?”

A J-STARS aircraft flew high above and an operations officer onboard spotted a new orange flag in the wasteland, he approved the recovery of the survivor and the radio operator called the closest airlift unit to dispatch a rescue crew.

A helicopter came in low and hot to speed up the recovery, they’d been at it for days and the crew knew that every minute counted for most. When they were over the coordinates, the door spotter pointed out the flag and readied the cable for lowering. As the pilot maneuvered toward the flag, the doorman began to lower his first responder, so he would be closer to the ground when they were over their patient.

Just as he got to the car, Jim saw a helicopter approach, so he shielded his face to keep from being hit by the countless number of projectiles of wreckage generated by the rotor wash.

The rescuer landed right next to Jim and, once he was on the ground, the airman evaluated his patient, “What the fuck, man? You don’t have any life-threating injuries! In fact, you look perfectly healthy except for that bruise on your forehead! You make me sick! You’re wasting precious time needed for people who are really hurt and it pisses me off that you’re the tenth asshole today that’s pulled this shit!” The airman thrust the harness at Jim and yelled, “Put this on, motherfucker!”

“NO! Wait! There’s a woman out here you have to get her too!” Jim begged.

The airman began to think he’d made a wrong assessment of the situation and yelled, “Where is she? How badly is she hurt?”

Jim stammered frantically, “I don’t know where she is now! I mean, she looked okay the last time I saw her, about ten minutes ago.”

The airman spat in Jim’s face, “I’ve had about all I can take from you and all the other fuckin’ clowns who are wasting our time! I have no other choice since we’re here now, I have to take you, so put that fuckin’ thing on now!”

Jim handed the harness back and begged, “Call the police there’s a killer on the loose and a woman lost out here!”

The rescuer took the harness, gave the doorman a thumbs up, shook his head in disbelief and was whisked away to head miles off to the next critical patient on their growing list.

When the life flight got back to their airbase to refuel, the airman notified his crew chief, “There’s a wacko out there who put out a rescue flag and then refused to be rescued, but get this, his excuse was that there’s a killer on the loose and a woman was lost.”

The chief made an entry in the computer’s log then went back to work.

 

Still enjoying. You certainly wrote an evil character. You could feel what a creep he is.

 

The Big Quake - Chapter 7

“Fuck! Now I’ll have to find the other one before she’s rescued too!” the stone cold killer seethed while he watched the helicopter hover over his prey, but his anger faded when the chopper left with his plaything still on the ground, so Smitts smiled and rubbed his crotch while he drew the chef’s knife he found in the trawler’s galley out of his waistband.

Once the chopper was out of sight Jim searched the area for any sign of Elga and softly called out her name. When he found some footprints in the mud, he followed them, picked up a length of rebar on the way and muttered, “Just in case I run into Smitts.”

Elga clawed her way to the second floor of a demolished building where she peeked out through the shattered window to keep her eyes on Jim as he approached. When she was sure that he was headed her way and was carrying a metal bar Elga searched for a weapon to defend herself from the man she believed to be a murderer.

When Jim finally reached the building, Elga held up a ten-foot-long steel bar and called out, “Don’t come any closer Mister Umm! I have a bigger bar and I won’t be afraid to use it this time!”

The real psycho killer watched as the two argued, “I can’t believe my luck! Two for the price of one! Now the c**t can watch while I assfuck the bastard who pummeled my ear! Or, even better, I’ll make the asswipe watch me do the whore first so he’ll be even more terrified when it’s his turn! Hell! I can’t make up my mind! Too bad I can’t do ’em both at the same time!”

The more Jim tried to convince Elga, the more she didn’t believe him and she demanded, “Drop the bar first and take off your suit so I can see that you don’t have a knife!”

Jim hesitantly dropped the bar and, just as he got his leg out of the Mustang Suit, the sociopath made his move, but before Elga could warn him, it was too late and Smitts clotheslined Jim while he struggled, stooped over and tried to free his boot from his pants leg. Jim never had a chance to react and lay flat on his back, struggling to breathe, as he suddenly felt the killer’s shoe on his throat. When he looked up and saw the knife Albert held his hands, Jim surrendered like a subservient dog.

“Alright now, Missy! I want you to watch real close while I give your boyfriend what he’s been givin’ you, but don’t worry, you’re next and there’s plenty to go around!” the rapist hollered.

Senior Airman Natalie Webb read the report on her screen and was about to dismiss it but decided, “I’d better forward the coordinates to the surveillance camera technician just to be safe.”

Airman First Class Wheaton was overwhelmed, his eyes were sore and his attention to detail was slipping, so when Webb’s request came in to scan a specific area, he leapt at it, “Finally! Something solid to look at!” However, as soon as he had the camera retrained, Wheaton slowly panned the area, immediately zoomed-in on two figures and what he saw next would stay with him for the rest of his life. He immediately keyed his mic and reported the incident to his watch supervisor.

As soon as the sociopath began his sexual assault on Jim, Elga raced for the clogged stairwell and used her steel bar to navigate through the wreckage all the way down to the ground floor. The moment that she was free of the building, Elga ran at the rapist and swung for the fences the second that she was in range.

Smitts never knew what hit him, the bar made contact to the back of his neck and instantly severed his spinal cord. He let out a muffled groan and slumped over paralyzed from the neck down.

Elga dropped the bar and rushed to Jim’s side where she removed her jacket and covered his exposed ass.

The watch commander watched the replay and immediately diverted an Army Delta Team to the area. When they arrived, Smitts was still alive, but the Medic told him, “It’s only fitting that you’ll never be able to leave your bed in a minimum security prison hospital where they’ll have to feed you intravenously for the rest of your miserable, fucking life.”

No charges were filed against Elga because the entire incident was caught on tape. The company which owned the Gunter III sent her a first class plane ticket to Oslo, which she cashed in to spend on her honeymoon with her husband Jim Umm.

Jim still lacked the courage to tell her that his last name was Parker and continued to not give a damn what she called him, after all, she was his very own golden, warrior goddess who saved him from the sociopath.

Her father was spared any humiliation when his slightly used “Mighty Big Super Blinding Bright Magnum Flashlight” came in the mail.

I hope you enjoyed this story. If you did, please check out my books published exclusively on Kindle at Amazon.com. As always, C.T.

THE END

 

Well done, nice quick end.

Rancher

 

Enjoyed the story. Short, developed and given the nature of the west coast somewhat possible. Thank you for the time and effort you put into your stories, I for one, greatly appreciate them.