RESCUE~Chapter 6

Finally, chapter 6. Goodness, just when I think I'll have time to write...ha! lol. Anyways! It was really, really hard for me to focus during the first half of this chapter, so it came out feeling very forced. Can you please tell me what you think of the conversation with Buckeimer, Nateel and Derek? And also...I'm trying to make them seem differen when they talk since they're supposed to be speaking in German so I'm using a bit more "proper" grammar for them. ...does that work? Or does it come out cheesy/cheap sounding?
Oh...and how's the action in the woods, please? Suggestions of any kind would be so awesome. thanks!

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Chapter 6

“Colonel Sael, Chief Radeeb is on the phone for you in the next room.”

Sael rose, straightening his suit while taking a deep breath and shot a glare at Buckeimer as he exited the room.

Derek stood by the window and watched Nateel pace back and forth on the elaborately woven carpet in the grand room while Buckeimer lounged in an easy chair and puffed on his cigar.

“You don't need to be so anxious, my friend,” the general said to the island native. “Radeeb will see that he has no choice but to agree to my terms and your home will be safe. Relax.”

Nateel turned on his heel and look across the room at the fat German, then walked across the room and stood in front of him. “General, do you not see?”

“What?”

“Sir, my entire family is on the island! My mother, brothers and sister. My wife is dead and I have seven children. All but my oldest son are very young and they are all innocent. They, my family and everyone at my home, have done nothing! Would you punish them for our chief's choice if he decides to appose you? They don't deserve to die. Not like this.”

Derek watched Buckeimer's expression graven as he leaned forward in his chair, setting the cigar down in an ashtray on the table next to him. “Listen to me, Nateel. I don't work for people. I don't work for money. I don't work for land. I work for power and nothing else.”

“Power should be used for people, General. Not against them. Anyone who thinks otherwise shouldn't be given it.”

“I am not going to be given it, islander! I am taking it. That is the only way to really get anything and anyone who is in my way will either get out on their own or will or be forced out. Am I not clear enough?”

Nateel nodded and sank down on the couch next to him, resting his head in his hands. “I think I am beginning to understand.”

“The sooner, the better.” Buckeimer leaned back in his chair and picked his cigar back up to puff on it. Then he turned and looked back at Derek. “Come over here, Hollister.”

Derek shifted before walking over to stand beside the general's chair.

“Sit. Sit. You are a guest here right now, not a servant. So, tell me,” he said as Derek took a seat on the other end of Nateel's couch.

“What, sir?” He glanced uneasily at the native who sat with his head still rested in his hands and his shoulders slumped.

Buckeimer cleared his throat and said, “What do you think? Should someone only have power if they are going to waste it by being pushed around by those under him? Does that sound like power to you, boy?”

Derek stared at the ground for a minute, wrinkling his eyebrows together and folding his hands in his lap, then he glanced over at Nateel again and back at the General saying, “I believe it can be power, sir. But there are many kinds of power and many kinds of leaders.”

Buckeimer shifted with a chuckle and said, “Do elaborate.”

The young German cleared his throat and rubbed his sweaty palms together, pondering whether or not he should appose the General's obvious opinion on the matter. He looked over to see Nateel looking intently at him and their gazes locked for a moment before Derek dropped his and shifted it back to Buckeimer. Taking a deep breath, he said, “Well, sir. I believe that, well, it seems to me that-”

“Spit it out, boy! You've been taught to speak your mind with confidence! I hope our program did better than this.”

Derek nodded and resumed, looking the old man firmly in the eyes, “General, I believe that real power in the hands of a real leader is not being able to control as many people on as much land as possible. A real leader will swallow his pride and show real power by doing what is best for his people by ignoring what anyone else might say. Otherwise, he has no real power, but is simply a slave to his own will and the pressure from those who think they know what they are talking about when, in reality, they know nothing more than narcissism and are little more than prisoners to themselves and their ideas. That...is what I don't see as power, sir.”

“Where did you learn that kind of talk, soldier?”

Derek rubbed his hands together again and looked over at Nateel who's eyes were red with tears. “I-I was never taught it, sir. It-I have read and thought a lot in my years in the compound and it seems to me that-”

“What do you know?” Buckeimer said, waving his hand in disgust. “You're just a boy, barely a man! You've had no life experience. You have clearly not interacted with enough people. And perhaps-” He sat back and stroked his fat chin.

“Perhaps what, General?” Derek squeezed his hands together in his lap so that his knuckles turned white.

“Perhaps-” he looked over at his young comrade. “Are these your real thoughts on the matter, Hollister?”

Derek swallowed and leaned forward. Taking a deep breath he looked back at Nateel who was, once more, staring hard at him, he nodded and said, “Yes, sir. They are.”

“Very well.” Buckeimer brought his cigar back up to his mouth and puffed smoke into the air as he stared into space. “Perhaps you're not ready after all.”

~R~

Melody felt the blood drain from her face as the two gunman approached Jason and one of them patted him down, pulling his large pocket knife from his pants then motion with his rifle. “Put your hands on your head and get on your knees.”

“Jason!” She jumped up and stood, frozen as the youngest of the men snapped his aim at her.

“Don't move, Melody!” Her brother screamed, twisting around on his knees with his hands folded on top of his head. Then he looked back at the tallest and oldest member of the trio and said, “Let her go. Tell me what you want me to do and I'll do it, but just let her go. She doesn't know anything.”

“Like heck, we'll let her go!” The young man said, lowering his rifle and walking towards her. “Check it out, Max! Didn't see this coming, did we? Hottie!”

“Shut up, James!” The old man replied. “Just grab her and come on. We've got to get out of here before the rest of them come. They'll be looking for them and I don't intend to be here.”

James began to walk towards her and she took a step back as panic swelled in her chest. “Jason?”

“Do what they say, Mel.” He twisted around again to look at her. “They won't hurt you. Just do exactly as they say.”

The boy began to grab her arm, but slipped his hand around her waste and she saw him wink at her. She kicked his leg and stomped her foot like a three year old, screaming, “Don't touch me, you maggot!”

“Melody!” Jason whispered.

James laughed and grabbed her arm. “It's okay, sweetheart, I can't do anything while I'm on duty.”

She gritted her teeth as he led her over next to Jason who stood up with his hands still on his head.

“Jason, what is going on?”

“Be quiet. Don't talk. Just follow.” He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, but it was a cold, hard look.

She swallowed down the lump in her throat and nodded.

“Hey Max, how about I take care of her? I couldn't handle the dude.”

Max yanked Jason by the arm and began walking. “Whatever. Just no funny business. Got it?”

“Oh, yeah. Of course, of course.” James pulled Melody forward and began walking behind his leader as he leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Not too much funny business that is. Right honey? Not while I'm on duty anyways.”

She cringed and twisted her arm as she trudged along next to him, trying to make him loosen his grasp on her, but he only drew it tighter, sending pain shooting up and down it.

She could hear Max muttering something ahead, but couldn't tell if he was talking to Jason or himself.

“I'll take good care of you, Melody.” James stepped closer to her as they walked. “You'll be like my little pet. Won't that be fun?”

She didn't respond, but just looked up at the treetops, squinting to make out their shape in the dark.

“Hey, come on. Talk to me.” He soothed, leaning his head closer to hers. “I'm not going to hurt you.”

“Hit the dirt!” Max screamed dropping to the ground and pulling Jason with him.

Melody looked up to see a bright blue light burst out of nowhere just before James slammed her to the ground.

A deep voice boomed from in front of them. “Send them both over and nobody gets hurt!”

James wrapped his arm around Melody's waste and pulled her close to him.

Max shouted back, “You'll have to come and get them, first! And if you try to shoot us, you'll be shooting right at them!”

Melody glanced down at the knife in her captor's belt. She looked up, squinting in the bright blue light and saw what must have been a dozen or more men positioned with guns of different shapes and sizes in front of several large military vehicles.

“Don't you dare make a sound,” James whispered directly into her ear.

She shifted under his grasp and laid her hand right next to his knife. Opening her fist, she laid her fingertips on the knife handle and was just grasping it, preparing to pull it out when a gun shot rang out and she snapped her gaze up to see Jason jump to his feet and run into the group of men.

Max cursed and jumped up shooting three rounds at them before he turned and ran back, snatching Melody up and screaming for James to follow.

She let her feet drag, trying to slow them down, then yanked back and ripped herself free, falling to the ground for a split second before she sprang to her feet and darted towards the crowd of soldiers.

Max yelled at her and she looked back to see him and James running towards her. She screamed and quickened her pace, but it wasn't enough and she felt a hand land on her shoulder, snatching her back and slamming her on the ground. She felt her head smash against something hard and everything flashed bright white as a chorus of shouts rose in the air. She scrambled to her feet and stumbled back, falling to the ground again, overtaken by dizziness. The bright blue light faded to gray and the trees swirled around her. Then she felt her heart rate decrease and she closed her eyes as everything went black.

RESCUE~Chapter 5

How's the action in this chapter? Does it sound like it's coming from a kid's book? Honest? And...are the characters coming across as shallow? How's the flow of everything? Any other thoughts, PLEASE? Thanks!

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Chapter 5

Melody heard a gunshot, followed by a shout, break out from her pursuer as she jumped and then the muted sound of rushing water as the river engulfed her.

She opened her eyes, but it did her little good in the murky water. All she could see was dark brown and sparse bits of sunlight shining down.

She kicked down to keep herself from floating to the top until she could swim far enough away to be out of sight of the gunman. She was thankful for her swimming classes now and that she'd kept up her practice every week, but she knew that wouldn't do her much good if she couldn't get a breath in soon. The suction of the water around her body weighed down on her chest, making her lungs feel like balls of led and she gritted her teeth as she continued to pull and kick at the water, trying to ignore the burning pain of her lungs.

It seemed like forever before she couldn't take it any more and finally shot herself to the surface, sucking in a labored breath before she'd fully emerged and breathing in almost as much water as air. She sputtered and choked, coughing up water and still treading against the strong current.

Her lungs burned more and more every time she tried to breathe in or stroke with her arms, but she continued to do both of them steadily as she looked around to see that she had apparently lost her attacker. Either she'd been able to out-swim him, or he'd given up. Or that gunshot hadn't come from him...

“Hey!” Someone shouted from the shore.

She started and looked over, coughing up another mouthful of water and going under again for a minute. When she came back up, she saw a man dive into the river and begin to swim towards her.

Panic surged through her and she rolled back over and began swimming as fast as she could down the river.

She kicked and squirmed through the water and allowed the current to drag her as fast as it could, but it did her little good. In less than a minute, she felt a hand grasp her ankle and yank her back.

She turned and used the man who held her leg to push down and shoot herself up out of the water and fall back down on him. She smacked and punched and kicked like an animal, climbing on his shoulders to get leverage over him and tried to suck in air. But she could hear herself wheezing even over the sound of the river and she felt her head buzzing as everything flashed in and out of focus.

“Melody!” The man screamed, gurgling water as she pushed him down. “Melody! Stop! It's me, Jason!”

She relaxed and let herself slide off of his shoulders and, holding onto them instead, leaned over into the water coughing and choking in air.

Looking up she let out a laugh that was really more of a sob as she recognized her brother.

He grabbed her around the waste and began to swim towards the shore, practically dragging her behind him.

She hadn't realized until now, how cold the water was and she began to shiver as Jason dragged her up into the shallower water. She scraped her toes against the ground and scrambled until she could rest her whole foot on the slimy sand and stumble to the shore.

Jason released his grip on her and stood up, bending over and resting his hands on his knees, breathing heavily.

Melody fell on her stomach with her feet still in the water. She crossed her arms and rested her forehead against them, choking in air and coughing up water every couple of breaths.

“What happened?” Jason asked, kneeling next her and helping her sit up.

She shook her head and coughed again, spitting a trail of thick mucous onto the sandy ground.

“Okay, just breathe. Breathe.” He knelt in front of her. “Is your inhaler back in the truck?”

She shook her head. “I left it at home.”

“How many times have I told you-”

“Jason, please. I'm fine,” she nodded and sucked in a good, deep breath. “I'm okay. I don't need it.”

Jason gritted his teeth and wrinkled his eyebrows together, then nodded slowly. “Okay. Can you walk?”

“Of course I can walk.” She jumped up and realized that was a stupid move as everything flashed black and she stumbled a step backwards.

“Just rest for-”

“No.” She shook her head, blinking everything back into focus. “I'm fine. Come on, we've got to get back to the truck and get home. Please, let's just go home.”

Jason nodded and began to walk back towards the treeline. “Okay.”

They climbed up the short bank and into the woods and Melody groaned as she looked down at her bare feet. “Who was that?”

“I-I don't know. Not for sure.”

“What do you mean, not for sure? You know something.”

He shook his head. “No. Come on, we've got to find the truck before it gets dark.” He stepped in front of her and began working his way through the trees at a slow jog.

“Jason, wait!” Melody ran up to him and grabbed his arm. “I was almost freaking killed back there! You can't just shake your head and not tell me anything! What the heck is going on? Does it have anything to do with Dad and his business that's always none of our business?”

“I told you I don't know for sure!” Jason screamed.

Melody took a step back and cringed. He never yelled at her. “Okay. Then-what-when-”

“Just don't ask questions, okay?”

She shook her head. “I don't understand.”

Jason looked up at the treetops and let out a long breath. “Neither do I.”

She nodded and sighed. “Okay.” Letting her head droop, she began to walk on through the woods and heard Jason close behind her, scuffling through the brush.

They had no sense of direction, not knowing how far down the river they'd gone or in what way the road that the truck was on even lay and to make matters worse, the sun was beginning to go down.

Melody walked on, hugging herself and trying to keep herself from shaking as much as she could. Adrenaline still shot through her entire body and her red hair and cut off jeans were soaked and her wet shirt clung to her, chilling her to the bone. “Jason?” She said, turning around to see him still kicking his way along, staring at the ground.

“What?” He looked up and walked forward.

“Do you have any idea where we are going?”

He stopped and looked around, taking a breath in and slowly letting it out, then shaking his head. “Nope.”

Melody let out a choked laugh and raised her eyebrows, saying, “Well, you don't sound too worried about it.”

He shrugged and kept walking forward, passing her and not even looking back. He just kicked at the ground every few steps, his head remaining bowed.

“What is wrong with you?”

He didn't reply, but continued with his mechanical walk.

“Jason!” Melody ran up to him and grab his shoulder, spinning him around.

He looked down at her and she caught the glisten of tears in his eyes.

“Jay, what's going on? What's wrong?”

Jason shook his head and swallowed hard. “Mel, listen. If I tell you, you can't tell anyone. You can't even talk to me about it, okay? Don't-just-trust me when I say you can't talk to anyone about it. It's-this is a matter of life and death. Do you understand?”

Melody felt the blood drain from her face, then her heart began pounding in her throat and she swallowed down urge to cry. “No,” she almost laughed. “I don't understand! This is too sudden. Too-”

“It's time to grow up, Melody. Okay? You can't be a little girl about this. This is an adult matter. I mean, this is beyond an adult matter. There's no room for childish reactions here. Got it? You're eighteen, not twelve. Start acting like it.”

“What the heck has gotten into you?”

“Do you want me to tell you what's going on or not?” He asked, gazing firmly into her eyes.

“You're not even acting like-”

“Melody! There's no room for that. Stop it and listen to me.” He paused, then proceeded slowly. “Do you understand?”

“I-I-yeah, I mean-yes. Yes.” She nodded and glanced nervously at the ground. “Okay.” She looked back up at him and nodded again. “Go ahead.”

Jason stared hard into the distance for a minute then looked back down at his sister. “This does have to do with Dad. I didn't even know about it until a few months ago.”

“Why didn't I know?”

“Don't ask questions. Just listen.” Jason reached into his back pocket and pulled a piece of paper from it. It was damp from the river, but he unfolded it and handed it to Melody.

She held it up and strained in the dimming light to read it, then shook her head. “It's just a picture of a blue X.”

Jason nodded. “Exactly. It's a mission launch call.”

“What?” She wrinkled her face in a perplexed expression.

“Do you remember Dad mentioning that he might have to go to Germany for an extended period of time a few months ago?”

Melody nodded.

“Well, there's...there's something big going on over there. I can't tell you all about it, but I think we're more involved than we realize.”

“Involved in what?”

Jason kicked at a pine cone and swayed from stomped his feet lightly like an nervous horse.

“Jason. Involved in what?”

“Okay,” he said. “There is a German general named Fredrick Buckeimer. He's like...like a second Hitler or something, only his plans are much quicker and deadlier to a lot more people.”

Melody shook her head. “I don't understand.”

“It-” Jason stopped and snapped his gaze up, past Melody.

“What is it?” She looked behind her.

“Duck!” Jason grabbed the back of her head and slammed her on the ground next to him.

A boom rang out and something smacked into the earth ahead of them.

“Get up! Run! Run!” Jason grabbed Melody by the arm and yanked her to her feet, not even giving her time to get her balance before he began to drag her along.

She scrambled to get her feet underneath her and broke into a full out run, keeping close to Jason.

He reached back and grabbed her hand, whipping her up in front of him and giving her a push. “Run! Don't stop!”

“Where are you going?” She screamed, obeying his orders.

“I'll be right behind you, just run!”

A thousand thoughts raced through Melody's mind almost as fast as she was running. Her breathing was getting labored again and she could feel her legs growing weaker. No, she told herself. Knock it off and run. She forced herself to focus on the rhythm of her feet as the pounded onto the rough ground, each step sending her deeper and deeper into the forest.

Another shot rang out and she heard a shout. She looked back to see Jason grab his arm and stumble to the ground.

“Jay!” She shrieked, turning back to him.

“Keep going!” He shouted at her, picking himself back up and running towards her. “Don't stop!”

She continued to run and glanced back at him again. She couldn't tell if he was hurt badly or not, the light was growing dimmer and dimmer and she could barely see her way through the trees let alone Jason's wounded arm.

Her heart roared in her chest, sending a pulse through her entire body, climaxing in her head where it pounded so loud that she could barely hear anything else.

She coughed and continued to choke in air as she ran.

She looked up to see if there was a break in the trees and any way to tell her way out of the woods, but before she could tell, she slammed into something and fell on back, slamming her head against the ground.

She lay stunned for a minute and blinked as a shadow rose over her. The shadow of a large man. He reached down and grabbed her hand, pulling her up and setting her on her feet.

Screaming, she kicked at the man and tried to pull herself free from his grasp, but he held tightly to her.

“Jason!” She shouted, looking back. The sound of footsteps were heard pounding towards them and in an instant her brother was beside her, grabbing her arm and pulling her towards him.

The other man released her without resistance and Melody threw her arms around her Jason.

“It's okay, Mel. It's okay. He's a friend.”

She looked back and up at the man who stood over them, a full head taller than Jason. She could just barely make out his face in the moonlight and saw that he wasn't glaring or scowling at them at all, but she still held tightly to her brother.

Their new comrade reached out and said, “Come on, we've got to-”

But, before he could finish his sentence another gunshot rang out and he crumpled to the ground as three other men ran up behind them.

Jason forced Melody down and ran at them, but skidded to a stop just a few feet in front of them as they all raised pistols and held them level with his chest.

RESCUE~Chapter 4

This is the first chapter I've written in a while, obviously. I couldn't write for a while then...today...IDK...just came out pretty easily and I think I like how I've been able to roll some things together that make it all come together better in my mind. I'd love thoughts on this chapter, please. Does it hold your attention? Or do I lose you at any point? And if so, where? There was a gap between Derek in chapter 2 and 4 since chapter 3 focused on Melody and Jason, so...if none of this makes sense, it may help to go back and read the other chapters. On...and one last thing, I decided to just make it two dark skinned, foreigners instead of the origonal four who meet Derek and the General. Thanks!

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Chapter 4

Derek fell back against his seat as the General's word's echoed in his mind, “If we are ever going to launch the Fellcamp Mission, it's now or never.”

He forced himself to listen to the rest of the conversation to be sure he'd actually heard what the General said. Something like this couldn't afford to be mistaken for something else.

The old General puffed cigar smoke into the air, filling the limousine with a sweet smell that made Derek nauseous. He never could get used to that kind of smoke.

One of the dark skinned men leaned forward, resting his folded hands on the table in the middle of the car and let out a forced cough. “We thought you were coming to hold a meeting to discuss the possibility of a Code Blue.”

Buckeimer laughed, setting the cigar down on a rest. “Gentlemen, really. Do you think I would have come this far, this fast with this little if we were simply going to discuss the idea of this?”

“This may not be the best time, General.” The other of the dark skinned men, who Derek noticed to be very small, said.

“The time is now, Nateel!” The German slammed his fist down on the table. “This is the only time for it! Everything is lined up. The charts all match perfectly. And if we don't do it now...” He broke himself off in the middle of his sentence and leaned back again with a pained expression in his face.

“What is it, General?” Nateel asked.

“Nothing.” The old man shook his head, the fat under his chin jiggling like jello. “This is the only time to make it work. As I said before, it is now or never. I need you men to trust me.” He glanced around at each of the faces, surprising Derek by looking at him too and holding his gaze for a moment. “The boy is ready. No matter how much I will always doubt any and every man on this earth, I know that the boy is as ready as any of them could be. He will make this work.”

“Sir,” the larger of the foreign men leaned forward, reaching for a bottle that sat in the middle of the table and proceeding to poor himself a glass of the drink. “It is not that we doubt you, but our chief is no longer certain the the benefit for us would outweigh the enormous risk factor that we did not know of until last week.”

“Radeeb need not fear for his people or his island,” Buckeimer said, picking his cigar back up. “Their safety will be as ensured as that of the German nation's.”

“How can we be sure?”

“No man can be sure of anything in life, Sael. This is where you must trust me.”

Nateel leaned forward again and shook his head. “It is too risky. Radeeb won't consent without more proof that you and your men will do all in their power to ensure the safety of our people and land.”

“Have we not done enough?” Buckeimer shouted. “We have already kept your island secret from any sort of satellite or tracking device. As far as the entire world is concerned, your island doesn't even exist! You're the invisible people! How much more of a guarantee does your chief need? Do you have any idea what kind of money and technology it takes to do something like that?”

“Allow me to point out, General,” Sael said, “that all of this has been done in such a way as to make this mission of yours most convenient for you. It is hard to see the sacrifice from our point of view since, without our island and it's...invisible qualities, your precious Fellcamp Mission would never work”

“I can't believe what I am hearing!” Buckeimer slammed his hand down on the table again. “If it had not been for us finding your island when we had, it would have been blown to pieces in our test launches on the United States! Our missiles would have ripped right through the core of your little piece of land and nobody would have been any the wiser! We have had to reconfigure our entire system, which is no small task I might add, to keep you safe!”

Nateel broke in calmly, but with a firmness that Derek would not have suspected from a man of such small stature. “Do not forget, Buckeimer, that this became the case only when you realized that our island would expand your plan to more than just America. That it would allow you to begin a true world domination and, not only this, but that our island was set up perfectly for you to build your compounds and training camps on. Not to mention the fact that, with our island being invisible to the rest of the world, you could hide there and be virtually impenetrable without having to build any sort of armor, except that which is needed to protect the force-field.”

“With you by my side! With Radeeb as my equal in power! We are not enemies! We are allies with the same dreams!”

“This is your dream, General.” Nateel kept a firm gaze fixed on the now trembling German. “Radeeb's is to simply better his land and his people's life. We have lived off the land for quite some time very comfortably. The only time we have ever had rumor of war or any kind of real trouble was when you came into the picture with your plans.”

Buckeimer opened his mouth to reply, but Sael cut in before he could say anything.

“I'm sorry, General. But, Radeeb has instructed us to inform you that we are pulling our support and thus, the land and people we have supplied for you. We can not, do not, and will not aid you in this bloodthirsty endeavor.”

Derek saw Buckeimer's face grow red as he said, through clenched teeth, “It seems that you forget that I have nearly as many people on your island as you do. And mine have weapons much more advanced than your hunting rifles and cross bows. I could simply begin with your little island as a practice run in my tactics for world domination.” He leaned back in his seat and resumed puffing in his cigar again. “Give that to Chief Radeeb to chew on.”

Resuming Rescue

Well, no...it has not been a year. And yes...I am getting back to writing. My reasons are...well...mainly things I don't want to say on the WWW. But, nothing has changed from what I said in my last post on this blog, but I have thought and prayed for a little while now about getting back to my book, as well as talking to three people that I very much trust their thoughts on the matter (I trust their thoughts on just about all matters, actually) and they all thought it would be a good idea for me to write again. So...to keep this from getting long, I have decided to get back to writing. I thought about restarting Rescue, or starting a new book altogether, however I have decided to just continue with Rescue and go back to do some minor editing. For one...I think I may cut out the subplot with Samuel, but I'm not 100% sure on that. I'm going to pace myself...or at least try to pace myself. So...I'll try not to be writing two or three chapters a day.

I've written chapter 4 an will post that in a post above this one.

A matter of...well, I can't think of the right word :P

Well, I really don't want to say what I'm about to, but I've been doing a whole lot of hard thinking and praying in the last 12-14 hours and I think this is the right thing to do. I think it's what would please God the most at this point.

Okay...so, no use trying to talk my way around it. I'm stopping writing. Not forever, but I don't know when I'll pick it back up. I do...completely plan on finishing “Rescue” at some point, but it may not be for a year and quite possibly longer.

I love writing. I love doing it more than I love doing anything else in the world when it comes to hobbies (for lack of a better word). I love it more than I love singing or cooking or anything like that. I'd be happy if I could just sit in my room all day and write. If I could make a living on writing, I'd be very content and happy. But I just can't, obviously. (Plus, there's other calling on my life that is so much more beautiful.)

And that's part of the problem. I need to do whatever I can to move forward in my life. I need to be able to leave everything from the “no major responsibilities” part of my life behind...at least for now. Writing ties me back to the time when I could do a day's worth of school then sit and write forever. I'm not there anymore. I need to not be there anymore. And as hard as it has been to admit it...writing is getting in the way of my mind being in the place it should be.

Writing is an escape for me in a sense. Not that I need to escape from anything really anymore...but it allows me to throw myself in a world that doesn't exist, which takes me out of the world that does exist...and thus the world that matters. It gives my mind the chance to create problems that I know I can fix. It gives me a chance to be with some of my “favorite people”...and they aren't even real.

Instead of escaping this world, I'm at the point in my life where I need to, not only face it, but embrace it and embrace the duties that brings with it.

Writing is a major distraction for me. Like I said before, I love it. I mean...I seriously can't begin to say how much I love it. As much as I gripe and complain about how bad I think I am at it (and I very well may be just as bad as all that), I do that a lot because I guess I've been afraid to face just how much I love it and how much it loves me back. Nobody (and I do mean nobody) knows how much I love writing. How much I love thinking about it. Coming up with plots. Hanging out with my characters. Creating a world where everything ends well and I can see that ending when nobody else can. I've never told anybody just what it does to me and how much I love it. IDK why I've kept it so secret. Maybe I didn't even know myself.

This may all sound crazy...especially to anyone who doesn't write...but if you do and you're passionate about it...you get an idea of what I'm saying.

And...it's pretty hard to accept that I won't be writing my book. I may continue writing...songs, short stories, etc...but I simply can't continue with my book and focus like I should on where I believe God is leading me. It's something that deserves everything in me...all that I am, can be and will be should be focused on this calling and leading from God and it takes more willpower than I care to describe to admit that writing is taking part of me that should be elsewhere.

More than anything else...I guess writing is just a distraction to my mind and time and it's so connected to my childhood (since I started loving writing back at a time when that was fine and I didn't have to focus on anything else.). And it's time for me to let go of childhood and embrace the fact that God is growing me up perhaps faster than I realized. And that takes effort, attention, devotion and hard work.

Even if writing isn't necessarily harming what I should be doing...it's certainly, certainly not helping it. And I need to devote my time and energy to things that will help it and all the people involved in the calling God has given me. I need to prove to God and show Him how serious I am and how much I am willing to work to get where I believe He is leading me. Even to prove how much I just want it. Because it really is so much more amazing than any book that I could ever write...or even, I think...any that has been written by man.

So, yeah...I kinda just spilled my guts here...and it's been hard to admit all of this. Like...really, really...really hard. But, I know now that it's best. The hardest part about it was just swallowing the truth the first time and admitting that I need to stop writing right now. Especially when I'm so excited and into my newest work, Rescue. I was so excited about it and had it planned better than any book I've even attempted writing...maybe too much so.

Sorry to all of you who were reading my book...and thank you so much for the time and interest you put into it. Like I said, I don't plan on this being permanent, but I'm not putting a time limit on it. I'm just going to have to wait on Christ and let Him lead me and show me when it will be right to take it back up.

Now that I've said all that I may have a good cry. :P Yeah...I'll miss it. A lot. But I do believe it's God's will for me and that it's a sacrifice that will help the future I believe God is arranging for me. And that makes the sacrifice so, completely worth it.
I'll still do things that have to do with writing...just not write my own book. 

Thanks again, y'all, for the time and thought you've put into the small amount of writing I put up on this blog. Hope I can return the favor someday, somehow. :)

RESCUE~Chapter 3

Ha! I got another chapter done. 0.0 :P
This is the third chapter, of course, and at this point in the last version I was about half way through the book. :P So, hopefully this works better.
Questions! How are the chasing scenes (both car and on foot)? How's Melody and Jason's conversation in the truck? How's...uh...everything? Does it make sense? How's the flow? Too short?
What do you think of Melody right now? Is she too...wishy-washy?
Thanks a bunch! :D (Again...dawgon formatting won't let me indent the paragraphs. :/ )

~.~.~.~.

Chapter 3

Martin Willard waited a moment before slowly pulling the phone away from his ear. His heart rate accelerated as he sucked in a few shallow breaths and mechanically set the phone down on the receiver.

Too many thoughts to process fully raced through his mind. His family. His job. His life. Then, his country. The well-being of the entire nation had just been thrown on his shoulders. No, not just their well-being; their survival.

If he didn't do what Buckeimer was demanding, his family would be slaughtered in cold blood. But, if he did do it, he would be destroying millions of lives.

No, he didn't like the president, the government or almost anything that came from Washington, but this was more than that. This was more than just a political agenda now. This was even more than just a war.

He tried to steady his heart-rate and his mind, but both were overpowering him. He coughed and reached for his stress pills, then pored two of them into his shaking hand and cramming them into his mouth, choking them down without water.

He had to think. He needed time to think. But it was clear that time was out.

He took a deep breath before picking the phone back out and punching in a series of numbers, and raising it to his ear. It rang on the other end only twice before a deep voice came through.

“Merlin.”

“John, it's Martin. Get the jet ready. We'll leave tomorrow night.”

~R~

Melody sat in silence as she rode in the passenger seat of the over-sized Dodge truck and Jason bobbed his head to the country music he was blaring over the radio.

She stared out the window and tried to ignore the churning of her stomach and the tears that continued to well up in her eyes. Every time she blinked, Samuel's face flashed in her mind for a split second. He was smiling at her with those twinkling, blue eyes. She'd never met anyone with eyes the same color as his. They were almost silver.

Jason's frog like voice boomed louder than the radio as the chorus to his favorite song played over the speakers, “When your heart won't tell your mind to tell your mouth what it should say!”

Melody reached over and punched the off button, killing the sound of the music and cutting Jason off in the second verse.

He looked over at her and raised his eyebrows. “You okay?”

She shrugged. “Sorry.”

He shifted slightly, then smiled at her and said, “Let's try to think about the right things, okay?”

She tried to smile back, but she couldn't swallow the lump down in her throat and a tear spilled out of her eye and rolled down her cheek. “I'm sorry, Jason. I want to and I really am trying. But, I can't seem to escape the memories. And every time it happens, I can't get out of it for the rest of the week.”

Jason sighed as he slowed down at a red light and a few raindrops fell onto the windshield. “I know.” He nodded.

There was a pause as he sat back and Melody shifted in her seat.

“I thought it was getting better,” he said.

“It was. I mean, it has been. This was the first time in almost two months. But, it was worse this time. I could see every detail again. I could feel everything. I mean, I was leaning over my bed like it was the cliff, for crying out loud.”

“I know, I know.” He nodded again with another sigh. “I know. What do you want me to do?”

Melody shook her head. “I don't want it to be like this! Nobody should have to do anything. I should be able to stop this. Just, ignore it. Fight it harder or something. I should be stronger than this. I've got to be stronger than this. I don't want to be the kind of girl that is always needing help. I want to help other people, not just be a burden on their backs to carry in the name of love!”

Jason turned his head back to the road as the light switched to green and they began to move again. He tapped on the steering wheel with his thumb and leaned forward, setting his gaze ahead. “You're not like that, Mel. Okay? You're not. But, as long as you hold to that belief, you'll be a slave to it. You've got to start thinking right. Think positively; think on the good things. Where is it in the Bible that it says to dwell on...” he squinted his eyes for a moment, then opened them. “Oh, I can't remember how it all went, but it talks about dwelling on whatever is good. You think too much about things, then you get mad at yourself for thinking too much about things then you...”

“Jay, please. I'm trying, okay?” Melody laid her head against the headrest and sighed. “I'm trying.”

She looked ahead at the rundown road and saw a car flying towards them at a ridiculous speed for that road. “Jay, look.” She pointed at it.

“It's fine. People speed on these roads all the time. And don't change the subject yet...I'm just saying that life is just now starting for you. Well, for both of us actually. And there's going to be stuff we'll have to face. You just...you have to stop looking at life so negatively.”

“So, you're telling me I need to be stronger than I am?” She looked nervously towards the car again as it continued to speed towards them.

He shook his head as the rough pavement leveled into an old dirt road. “I'm saying that you'll never be the kind of person you should be, never be strong enough if you don't start changing the way you think. I mean, I want to help you. And you...”

“Look out!” Melody shrieked, slamming her feet on the floor and latching onto the door handle.

Jason swerved to the right as the dark blue mini-van jerked into their lane and sped towards them, head on. “What they heck are they doing?” He shouted.

The van missed them, but as Melody looked in the rear-view mirror, she saw that they had spun around and were speeding towards them at what must have been more than seventy miles an hour. “Jay, they're trying to hit us!”

The rest of the country road was deserted, so Jason pressed harder on the gas and picked up speed.

Melody looked over and saw that the speedometer was reading sixty and she sat back, gripping the sides of her seat as the needle continued to climb. “Jason, slow down! Maybe they just need...”

Her sentence was cut short by a jolt as the van rammed into their bumper.

“What the heck?” Jason pressed the gas more and yanked the steering wheel to the right to turn down another road.

“What are you doing?” Melody screamed. “This road goes to the river!”

She looked over and saw the blood drain from Jason's face as he glanced in the rear-view mirror.

“Duck!” He shouted, reaching over and pushing her head down.

The sound of gunshots rang in the air as three bullets tore through the back window and whistled past Melody's face, exiting through the windshield.

“Jason, what is going on?” She sobbed, her face against her knees.

“Get down under the dash,” he said, adding even more speed to their pace.

She slid down and huddled in front of her seat, shaking and praying.

She heard another gunshot then all of a sudden a jerk as Jason slammed on the breaks and she could feel the truck skidding forward, then stop.

Jason cursed and smashed down the button on his seat belt and unbuckled, slinging the seat-belt off of him. He reached into the center console and pulled his pistol from it, smacking the bottom of the handle against his palm to jam the magazine into place and then chambered a round as he slowly opened the door and ducked, pointing the pistol towards the back of the truck.

Another shot rang out and Jason ducked back in and pulled his door shut as complete silence fell around them.

“Jay,” Melody whispered.

“Stay here.” He pushed his door open and set one foot on the dirt road.

“Don't leave me!” She whispered again.

“Don't move. I'll be right back.”

“Jay please-”

But he'd already gotten out of the truck and shut the door behind him.

She crouched down and looked up out the windshield at the pine trees that were on either side of the road. Not a sound reached Melody's ears from outside. The only thing she could hear was the blood pounding through her head as her heart slammed against her chest.

She sucked in deep breaths and wished she had her inhaler with her as the air grew thicker. Her breathing became shallow, threatening an attack, but she closed her eyes and tried to force herself to stay calm.

Tears rolled silently down her cheeks as she waited for Jason to come back.

The longer she waited the harder it was for her to sit still. She sat with her ears straining for a sound. Any sound. But everything was so quiet. Unnaturally so.

She laid her head against the side of her seat and hugged her knees. “God, please help,” she murmured as rain began to pound down against the windshield and some of it leaked through the bullet-holes. “Where's Jason?”

Finally, she heard a scuffling noise right outside her door and a moment later she heard it being opened.

She turned and let out a scream as she saw a dark tan hand reaching for her. She smacked at it and kicked at the man/s stomach without even looking at his face.

He pulled back for a minute, giving Melody just enough time to leap over the driver's seat and throw the door open, jumping out on the road.

She looked around and screamed, “Jason!”

There was no reply.

“Jason!” She shrieked, but still no answer.

She turned and saw the man run around the truck and lunge towards her.

She let out a choked shout and ran for the woods on the other side of the road. She didn't look back to see if he was following her, but just ran as fast as she could, dodging branches and tumbling over the briar covered ground.

She heard a crack behind her and something slammed into a tree in front of her. It wasn't a bullet, but she didn't have time to see what it was as she flew past it and turned to the right onto a deer path and found it easier to run without the thick underbrush growing up and tripping her.

Another crack behind her and something whizzed past her face, just barely missing her and it sunk into the ground in front of her. It looked like some kind of a dart as she ran past it and turned again, back into the thick of the woods.

She glanced back for a split second and saw the man speeding behind her, carrying a large pistol with a thick barrel. He was gaining on her quickly and she pushed herself to run harder as the air continued to grow thicker and thicker and her breathing became more and more difficult.

Her flip flops had flown off before she'd even reached the woods and she could feel the ground thorns digging into her bear feet every time they made contact.

She wished that she had worn her long jeans instead of the ones cut off at the knees when she felt stinging of her legs as the taller thorns brushed over her them, forming dozens of tiny razor-like slices all over her bare calves.

She continued to snatch in shallows breaths as she ran deeper and deeper into the woods, glancing back every now and then only to see that her efforts were doing her little good as the man continued to slowly, but steadily gain on her.

As she jumped over a log, she choked down a breath the wrong way and began coughing for air. Tripping over the log, she lay for a moment, trying to get a breath in before forcing herself back to her feet to continue running.

It was hardly running anymore, though. She barely picked her feet up off the ground, but managed to keep up her pace enough to move steadily.

The sound of the river caught her ears and she made one last desperate effort to dash towards it. If she could just get to it, she'd float on her back and let the current sweep her away until she could get to a shore. Her father had taught her how to do it years before when she was a little girl and it was the only way she saw out of this. If there was a way out of it.

In a few more minutes, she broke out onto to the narrow, red clay shore and stopped. The river rushed in front of her and she second guessed whether or not this was a good idea. Shooting her gaze down the river she saw that it looked clear enough with no debris, but still, she didn't know how much of an undercurrent there was that could pull her under and prevent her from getting back to the surface.

She gasped in a few deep breaths and turned in the hope that she had lost her pursuer. That hope grew as she scanned the treeline and saw no sign of him. Not a sound came from the woods and everything looked perfectly still.

She leaned over and rested her hands on her knees, allowing herself time to focus on a few good breaths.

Then, Jason flashed in her mind and her heart skipped a beat at the thought of him. Where was he? Why hadn't he answered her when he called? What on earth was even going on? This was crazy! She's never even heard of-

A cracking sound behind her broke her thought in half and she jumped up, turning to see the last thing she'd wanted to.

The man stood only a few yards away from her with the strange pistol raised level with her chest. “Don't move,” he said in broken English.

Melody didn't give herself time to think before she made one swift motion of bending her knees and throwing herself, backwards, into the river.

Them that the book's about

Finalllly found pictures of all my characters! :D None of them looked like I expected...but when I saw the pictures...passed over them and kept looking...I couldn't get these three out of my head. So...this is them! :D Thoughts? Took me forever to find the right ones...and I really hadn't expected to find all of them. Just need to find one for Peter now. Oh...and Buckeimer. >8-D (You may have to enlarge the pictures by clicking on them in order to read everything.)

All image credit goes to Getty Images.

Yes, he is younger in this version of the novel than he was in the last one.

Does she look 18 to you?

And yes...Derek turned out way cheesier than I'd planned. But he told me this is exactly what he wants to look like...so I decided he had the right to choose. Actually...I wasn't even looking for a picture of Derek...was looking for Jason...and this one popped up and started screaming "DEREK" at me. :P

RESCUE~Chapter 2

Well, I have just given into the fact that this book is going to come slowly. But, for me, that's a good thing. Because, I've noticed that I really tend to rush my work wayyyy to fast and that makes for pathetic books. So...I'm slowing down. I think that most of my chapters will be "short-ish", but I don't see that as a major problem if they work. Felt so good to get to write today. :D
How is the flow in this chapter? Is the pacing slowed down enough? Are you intrigued? And does it make sense?
Oh! And I found pictures of all three of my main characters! :D I may post those later if y'all are interested.
Oh...and apparently I have a new character. I say "apparently" because I had not planned for this dude at all. Have no idea where he came from, but he's insisting he stays. So, I just need to find him a last name and a face. I'm actually pretty glad that he popped up when he did. He may just be the element that I knew my story needed. Kinda  a lighter element to keep things from getting just too depressing. :P
Anyways...I'd really appreciate any and all thoughts. On this chapter and how it's working with the rest of the book so far. Thanks so much! :)
(Errr...I can't get the formatting on blogger to let me indent the paragraphs >.<)

~.~.~.~.

Chapter 2

“Hollister!” The German accent rippled through the air from an old, heavyset man lounging in his desk chair. “Where is that boy?”

A man in his mid-twenties, wearing a uniform that resembled that of the German military, ran into the room and skidded to a stop, bowing low, then stood at attention. “Yes, Heir Buckeimer.”

He sat up and leaned forward. “Why are you never here when I need you? I am leaving for a meeting in Berlin in twenty minutes and I am forced to take you with me.”

“A meeting?”

“Don't ask questions, just follow and do as I say!”

Hollister bowed again and said, “What would you have me do, sir?”

“Whatever I say to do, dumcoff! Get my briefcase from the cabinet and bring it here, then go get yourself some clothes packed. We will be gone over the whole of this week.”

“Yes, sir.” Bowing one last time, Hollister turned to leave the room.

“And, boy!” The old German's voice shot towards him.

Hollister turned and looked back. “Sir?”

“Not a word of this to anyone. This meeting is top secret and I will have you shot if anyone but you and me in this compound know about it. As a matter of fact, I will shoot you myself. Understood?”

Hollister hesitated, then nodded. “Understood, Heir Buckeimer.” He turned again and went out of the room, towards his quarters.

Stepping into his room, he reached to the right and flipped the light switch on to illuminate the room with a soft, yellow light. He went over to his closet and pulled out a duffel bag before turning and proceeding to pull different articles of clothing out of his dresser drawers.

His thoughts raced as he tried to imagine what this meeting could be about and why Buckeimer had chosen to take him instead of his regular attendant, Mueller. Why would there even have to be a top secret meeting? Germany was at peace. At least, as at peace as it always had been since Hollister could remember. And what part would he have in it? Maybe Mueller was sick and he was just the most available man. But, no...that couldn't be it. He hadn't been raised to just be a general's attendant. He knew things. More than most of the men in the compound.

The door opened behind him and he turned to see his room-mate standing there, staring down at him. “Where are you going, Derek?”

He shrugged and placed a shirt into the bag. “Just on a trip.”

“But, where? I never heard of any trip. Are you going alone?”

“I can' talk about it, Peter.”

Peter sat down on the bed and raised his cigarette to his mouth. “Why on earth not?”

“I have orders. It's top secret and I'm not to talk about it to anyone.”

His friend jumped up, nearly knocking the pile of clothes on the bed over. “You don't think this could have anything to do with Fellcamp Mission, do you?”

Derek stopped folding the shirt he was holding and looked up. “I-I don't know. I wasn't told anything.”

“It must be, Derek! It must be! And that is why they are choosing you to go. That's why they have been putting you through so much special training and...”

“Lower your voice!” Derek hissed, jumping up and slamming the door shut. “You're not supposed to know any of this. You'll get us both in trouble if anyone knows what I've told you.”

“Alright, alright. Yes, I'm sorry. But, think about it. And after the conversation I over-heard last week...it must be a Code Blue being called.”

“You don't even know where I'm going. And-wait, what phone call did you overhear?”

“It was Buckeimer talking to the American doctor.”

“Willard?”

“Yes, Willard.”

“How did you hear it?” Derek forgot about his packing and stared at his friend.

“How I heard it is irrelevant and what you don't know can't hurt you.”

Derek shook his head and crossed his arms. “Have it your way. But, tell me what was said.”

“Well, I could only hear the General's side, but it sounded like he was really hammering Willard for the package.”

“What package?”

Peter shrugged. “I don't know what's in the package, but it must be important because he was threatening the lives of Willard's entire family.”

Derek took a deep breath, then went back to his clothes and continued folding them. “Even supposing all that you say is true, this doesn't necessarily mean that they are launching the Fellcamp Mission.”

“What else could it mean?” Peter nearly shouted.

“I-I don't know.. But, we can't assume anything and we especially can't let Buckeimer know what pieces we put together. He has executed men for less.”

“Right.” Peter nodded and crammed his cigarette into an ashtray on the nightstand next to him. “How long will you be gone?”

“I'm not supposed to-”

“Oh, can it, Derek.” Peter snorted. “You've told me way more than that before.”

“He said he'd personally shoot me if I told anyone anything.”

Peter whistled and grinned. “That confirms everything in my mind.”

“What? Because Buckeimer would shoot someone? We've seen him shoot nearly half a dozen men before. Why would one more be such a big deal?”

“Not just that he would shoot one more man, Derek. That he would shoot you.”

Derek looked up and raised an eyebrow as he he zipped the duffel closed.

“They have been putting you through more special training than all the rest of us combined. There has to be a reason. And a big one. They obviously have a plan for you and so for Bucky to say he'd just shoot you...that's got to mean something substantial.”

Derek stood up, slinging the bag over his shoulder and looked at his friend. “Peter, listen. You may be right.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Okay,” Derek sighed. “You're probably right. But, if you are, that means that we have to be more careful now than we ever have been. Only a handful of us even know about the mission and why we are all here.”

Peter nodded and tried to look serious, but couldn't hide the twinkle in his young eyes. “Just think, Derek. What we have been waiting for our entire lives may be starting to finally happen.”

“I don't know, Peter. And I don't know if I'm ready for that to happen. We know more than most, but we still don't know everything. Something about it isn't right.”

“Lighten up! You're probably their secret weapon! I mean, why else would they be taking you or put you through all that training?”

Derek shoved past his buddy and laid his hand on the doorknob. Looking back he said, “I said you may be right, but we don't know for sure. And we have to be careful, Pete. Hold things down until I get back, okay?”

Peter nodded and slapped his friend on the back. “Stay safe.”

~R~

“Come on, Hollister!”

Derek felt himself being jolted back and forth by a hand, grasping his shoulder. Blinking, he looked up and into the face of Buckeimer. He sat up and looked around, the gentle humming of the small jet's engine catching his attention.

“We are landing in ten minutes and I don't want them seeing you looking like that!”

“Who seeing me? Looking like what?”

“I told you not to ask questions. Just get up and get yourself looking halfway decent.”

Derek stood up and walked to the bathroom where he pulled a comb out of his pocket and proceeded to sweep it through his short, blond hair as he looked in the mirror.

He realized that his hands were shaking as he fastened his top button. Looking back at his reflection he saw that his steel blue eyes were slightly reddened. Was he nervous? What was there to be nervous about? He was just attending the general.

No. No matter how much he lied to himself, or tried to lie to himself, he knew the truth. He didn't know if Peter was right or not, but something was up. Something big. And he was obviously involved. He felt his stomach churn as he stepped back out and took his seat for landing.

Buckeimer began to shoot out words as the plane gently bounced on he ground and gradually came to a stop. “When we get off, I don't want you to say a word more than is absolutely vital. Do you hear me? And do exactly as I say. Follow nobody's orders but my own until I say to. Am I clear, Hollister?”

Derek looked over and nodded at the general. “Very clear, sir.”

“Good. Now, come on.”

The door lowered into stairs and Derek grabbed his duffel bag, following Buckeimer down onto the cement.

Three men wearing black suits and dark sunglasses walked towards them.

Buckeimer waited until one of them approached him, shaking his hand with a little bow. “We are honored that you have responded so quickly, General.”

Derek looked at the speaker and saw the he was not German. His skin was too dark, but he couldn't tell much more because of the sunglasses covering his eyes.

“Just get us somewhere safe, quickly.” Buckeimer replied, turning to shake the hands of the other two men. “We will talk more in the car.”

“Right this way, sir. I will get your bag to ensure the utmost security.”

“Good. Come along, Hollister!”

Derek followed silently behind the four men as they walked towards the black limousine a dozen or so yards away.

One of the dark skinned men opened the door and bowed as the general got in. The two other men were next, then Derek slid into his seat with the last man who held the door, following him and sitting down across from him.

Derek sat with his back to the back window as the general lit a cigar and began puffing smoke into the air.

“You are sure that the car has not been bugged?”

“Completely sure, General.” The apparent leader of the three men said. It was then that Derek was really able to pick up his accent. He'd never heard it before, but it seemed to go well with his dark tan skin.

“Good, then we can get down to business. I have brought the boy, just as you suggested.” Buckeimer motioned towards Derek with a sweep of his hand.

“You believe he is prepared?”

“I don't know. But, he is more prepared than any of my other men. And this mission is long over-due.”

“Are we sure that this is the right time to start things? Are we prepared?” Another of the men said in broken German.

Buckeimer chuckled. “I used to think that we would never be ready for it. And I still think that. But if we are ever going to launch the Fellcamp Mission, it's now or never.”

RESCUE~Chapter 1 (Re-Write)

Okay! So...we are in FL. right now...but I managed to hang out in the van while everyone else was on the horses and I got my first chapter written...finally! Eeeesh, I've been itching, itching to write...feels so good. Not sure how good IT is though. :P We are headed to dinner now and I haven't had time to edit, so this is the 100% rough draft. Please let me know what you think of it all. I'd really appreciate all brutal thoughts. :P And, just so you know, this is the same story as the last version of "Rescue" I posted...I'm just adding way more to it, making it longer, giving more background/detail etc. Here's the first chapter. It's a bit shorter, but I think I work better with short stories.
Oh...and is there enough detail in this chapter? How's the emotion? What do you think of Melody? How about Jason? Is it all too choppy? How is Melody and Jason's relationship now? How does this one compare to the previous first chapter? Seriously...any and all thoughts are sooo welcome. ;)
Thanks SOOO much! :D

~.~.~.~.

Chapter 1

            “Melody, help me! Please!” Screams tore through the air as Samuel screamed for his sister.

            “Samuel!” She shrieked and ran towards the edge the cliff. “Oh, God, please!” Slamming down on her knees, she reached down and latched onto his right hand with both of hers while his left remained grasping the edge of the cliff.

            His arms shook and his knuckles turned white as he tried to keep a hold on the jagged rock.

            Melody sucked in deep breaths to keep herself calm as she pulled up on his hand. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she bit her lip, straining and tugging.

            Samuel's left hand slipped a half inch back. “Pull, Mel.” He groaned, hanging by his fingertips, from which blood began to flow as the rough surface cut into them.

            Sweat trickled down her face as Melody closed her eyes and yanked up. They flew open just in time to see her brother's left hand fly back.

            His weight yanked her down on her chest, knocking her chin against the ground. She screamed as her grasp broke and his hand slid down so that only their fingertips were locked together.

            Melody could feel her fingernails digging into his flesh as he swatted to grab her hand.

            “Sam!” She shrieked, reaching down and grabbing his wrist. She slid forward a foot so that almost her entire torso was in the air.

            “Let go, Mel!”

            “Wha- No!”
            “Melody, we'll both go down if you don't. Just let go!”

            “Sam, please.” She sobbed.

            “Do what I say, Melody,” he grunted.

            “No!”

            Their arms began to sway back and forth as both of their strength grew weaker.

            Melody stared down into the eyes of her brother. Deep green eyes that stared right back into hers. A gust of wind blew her long, red hair back and she shook her head to sweep her bangs out of her eyes.

            “Just hold on, Sam.” She slid another couple of inches forward.

            “I can't Mel.” A tear slipped down his cheek. Then, before she could think to stop him, he twisted his hand out of hers and flew back.

            “Samuel!” Her scream seemed to rip open the sky as she watched his head slam against a rock a few yards down. Blood sprayed as he continued to tumble past the cliff, landing on the ground, far below, where he remained motionless.

            “Mel,” someone whispered in her ear.

            She didn't reply, but kept screaming for her brother as she reached her hands out towards him. “Samuel, please! Don't! No!”

            “Melody, look at me.”

            She stopped crying and her eyes grew wide as she looked up and saw Samuel walking on the air towards her.

            “Sam?”

            “Mel, hey. Come on. It's okay.” His voice sounded different.

            She reached for his hand and he reached for hers.

            Silent tears streamed from her emerald eyes as she watched their fingertips meet, then slide up until their hands were locked in a firm grasp.

            “Sam...”

            “Melody, it's me. Jason. Look at me.”

            She felt her hair being stroked as a gust of wind blew in her face. Everything flashed black, then white.

            She looked around and let out a sob as her gaze landed on the white carpet. She was leaning halfway off the edge of her bed, grasping someone's hand as another brushed her hair out of her face.

            “Mel, look at me.”

            She looked up into the face of her older brother who was leaning down, looking at her with his eyebrows drawn together. His lips were set in a frown and tears welled up in his eyes.

            “Jay?”

            “It's okay. It's okay. You were just remembering again. Everything's okay now.”

            “No it's not!” She screamed, throwing his hand back and sitting up on her bed. “He's dead, Jason! Dead!”

            “He's been gone for over a year, Mel.”

            “So, you think that just because a miserable year has gone by I should be able to forget him?”

            “He was my brother, too, Melody.” Jason straightened up, still looking down at her.

            “You weren't there! You don't know how I-how he-and the blood. His face, smashed. His guts-”

            “I know, I know.” Jason sat down on the bed next to his sister and laid his hand on her shoulder. “I know, Mel. But, you did all you could, okay?”

            “I wish I had died that day!” She screamed. “I wish I would have gone down with him!”

            “Don't talk like that.”

            Melody curled up and hugged her knees, staring into space. “I shouldn't have yanked up.”

            Jason shook his head. “Don't start this again. Don't-”

            “If I hadn't done that, he wouldn't have pulled me down and I could have grabbed his other hand.”

            “Melody, please look at me.” Jason shifted on the bed and leaned down so that she couldn't avoid his gaze.

            “What?”

            “Let's go to town. Call Tracy and let's go watch a movie or something.”

            She shook her head. “I don't want to go anywhere.”

            “You can't keep yourself cooped up in your room all the time. Come on, please?”

            “I can't, Jay.” She sniffed and sat up, blinking as if she'd just woken up and looked around. “What happened?”

            Jason let out a sigh of relief. Mentioning something in their present life didn't always break her out. But it had this time, thankfully.“You were remembering again.”

            “Oh, yeah.” Her voice trailed off. “Samuel.”

            “Hey, let's call Tracy and see if she wants to go watch a movie with us. My treat.”

            Melody shrugged. “I don't hang out with her anymore.”

            “Why not? I thought you were best friends.”

            Melody snorted. “Yeah, like actual friends really exist anymore.”

            Jason bit his lip, letting his gaze fall to the ground. Then he looked at her and smiled. “Well, the truth is I'm glad.”

            “What?” Melody looked up at him in confusion.

            He grinned and stood up. “Because now, I get you all to myself.”

            She smiled a little and shook her head. “Okay, fine.” She stood up then stopped. “Wait.”

            “What?”

            “Where's Dad?”

            Jason shrugged. “He was expecting another business phone call, I think.” 

~R~

               “This is your last warning, Willard! You know what will happen if you don’t deliver.” The heavy accent flowed over the phone.

            “Please, don’t! Just give me a few more months.” Willard's voice shook.

            “Shut up and get it! Or I promise you, you’ll be sorry. But,” there was a chuckle. “Not as sorry as that little daughter of yours.”

            “If you so much as lay a hand on her-”

            “Oh, I won’t. But only as long as you deliver. And not a word of this to anyone or the result will be the same. And I may throw in a bonus for your wife and son. I mean it, Willard.”

            Click.