Working on my 4th novel. This one's going to be a mystery. Started as a short story, like most of my ideas do. Here's where it began.
When he was young, Marty Killinger dreamed of the day he’d leave Silver Springs. Every hope he had for his future was tied to the idea that one day he’d hop on a bus and never look back. It seemed ironic to him now that he was so reluctant to go. If he didn’t, though, he’d be dead soon.
“You done messing around?” Kyle Pinkney said.
“Just give me a second,” Marty said. He had been peeling the label off his beer, his stubby fingers making a mess of the job. He scraped at the white, sticky residue with a thumbnail, occasionally glancing up to look at the Sacramento River. It had overrun its banks, and the brown water was rushing by at an alarming speed.
“We’d better get going,” Kyle said. “You don’t have long now.”
The metal bench was cold. The discomfort of it on his ass, not to mention the fact that his beer was almost empty motivated Marty more than Kyle’s words had. He took the last swallow of beer, then threw the bottle as far as he could, hearing its plunk into the water but unable to see it as it was washed south on the current.
“Now your cell phone,” Kyle said, holding out his hand.
“You don’t think he can track it, do you?” Marty said.
“I think he knows every cop in this town, and they sure can.”
Marty nodded, dug the phone from his pants and handed it over. When Kyle threw it, it went farther than the beer bottle, far enough that they never heard the plunk.
More to come!
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