I thought this might be a little fun. For two reasons.
First, for you writers out there, a chance to show your stuff. And second, something more shameless – I might get a better scene for my novel.
This is the current scene I am working on. It’s a suspense scene. Two bad guys come into a room to kill two good guys. It’s a good candidate for this experiment because it’s short and well-contained as far as the story goes. You don’t need to know a lot about the story to add your comments or even re-write the scene if you wish.
All you need to know is that Ryvre (a short, plump hippie with long scraggly hair) and the run of the mill hippie are eco-terrorists. Nash is the main protagonist in the story (medium height with auburn complexion, hazel eyes, and straight dark brown hair with an influence of his Native American ancestry– Chiricahua Apache) and Kaya – a young Hopi woman with olive skin that is blemish-free. Eyes almond shaped. Cheekbones high and proud. Her face framed by pitch black hair that hung well below her shoulders who left the reservation to earn her degree in cultural anthropology. Henderson is a tall Welshman dressed yuppie casual– pressed khakis, casual shoes and a green sport shirt.
The full background on Nash is at www.jeremynashonline.com. You can view the 3 minute book trailer there.
Here’s the scene. Have at it!
“I’m sorry I got you into this, Kaya,” Nash said. He reached over and held her hand as they sat on the hard floor of their make-shift jail cell.
“Don’t be,” she replied squeezing his hand. “It was my decision to follow through on this. Remember, I brought your father’s message to you.”
She paused a moment then speculated. “What do you think they’re going to…” Her thought was cut short when the door to their prison swung wide open, banging loudly against the wall.
Kaya and Nash looked up at Ryvre walking quickly towards them. Another hippie followed close behind. Both were carrying side arms.
As the hippie stood back to let his boss revel in the moment, Ryvre stopped just a few feet short of Nash and Kaya huddled on the floor. Nash could see the determination on the Ryvre’s face. His upper lip turned up in a scowl and his eyes burned with hate.
There would be no delay in Ryvre’s actions this time. No discussion. No escape. Just a quick death from the end of the Glock pointed at them.
A moment later there was the cock of a double action Glock.
Kaya buried her head in Nash’s chest as he closed his eyes.
One shot rang out and a body slumped into Nash.
Another shot echoed the first–and Kaya screamed.
Nash opened his eyes and looked to his right. Ryvre was leaning over Kaya, blood and brains covering her from the remains of his head. Nash looked up and the hippie lay motionless in a pool of blood on the floor.
Henderson was standing over him with looked like and Army regulation .45 caliber pistol. His face was ashen white. Nash thought he was going to get sick.
After Henderson threw up, he looked over at Nash and remarked, “I didn’t buy into mass murder.”