The Target and Other Bold Stories: Three Short Stories

By Lee Ooley

Three short bold adventure stories about people, some strong and some not so strong who encounter life's chalenges. These are not superheroes. just people getting by as best they can.

First story: The Target is about a social misfit who goes on a killing spree and ends up being the target.

Second story: The Sentinels is about several old guys who become vigilantes in order to fight back against some neighborhood thugs. They have good success in two instances. Then things start going wrong.

Third story: Rudy's World is about a farmer and his wife who lose a son, a terrible shock. Then later they learn that their property is being used by satanical cult members. There are several more adventures that unfold, such as the cold fear of being surrounded by wolves.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Nov 12, 2015
• ISBN: 9781682225851

Book preview

World

The Target

Vivian was just pretty. Forty-five years old, a slim brunette with soft dark eyes and a quick smile. She and her husband, Les, had made an enviable income for the past fifteen years or so, until the bottom fell out of the economy.

Les had been tinkering with cars for as long as he could remember. His forte was to take a used, hopefully gently used, luxury auto and return it to new condition. He worked on Lincolns, Cadillacs, Lexuses, Acuras, and such. His favorite was the Mercedes because it was so stout. It was expensive to repair, but the pieces fit together well and finished out beautifully.

They had gone into hock big time to build and equip the three bay building that made up Les’s Motors. It was a smart decision. They paid off all debts quickly and were able to make several investments. So when the market for high end used cars went into a slump, they didn’t worry about losing anything.

They had talked about retiring but were only in their forties and didn’t have that kind of a nest egg built. So Vivian went to work waiting tables in Angie’s Restaurant and Truck Stop, while Les kept on with his restorations. Viv worked the day shift serving breakfast, lunch, and coffee to both over the road truckers and to locals. She enjoyed her job and was good at it.

Every now and then a would-be Romeo would make an out of line remark or suggestion, to which those soft brown eyes would become dark flames, and the patron would be dressed down in a voice that caused a hush over the whole diner. Most of the time, the blushing fellow would apologize, pay his bill, and get out of there quickly.

The patron that Viv called the creep was the exception. If you met Red on the street, you would think him a likeable guy. He drove some sort of delivery route and would stop in mid-morning twice a week for coffee and a roll.

At first it was just smiles and winks, progressing slowly into suggestive comments like if you ever get bored, look me up.

He would often mumble softly so one time Viv looked him in the eye and said, Excuse me?

His response was, What did you do?

After that Viv refused to wait on him when he came in. Angie tended to him and warned him a couple of times to behave or don’t come in.

One particular day was harried for some unknown reason, with customers calling for warm ups, water, and more attention than usual. As Viv stepped past Red’s table, his hand reached out and caressed her bottom. Not just a pat. A caress. Instantly, his lap was full of steaming hot coffee. As he cursed and tried to rise up enough to get the burning clothing away from his skin, she stepped to the cash register table and retrieved a canister of pepper spray and filled his mouth, eyes, and nose with spray.

Coughing and gasping, he swung wildly until a pair of truckers picked him up by his belt and collar and carried him out the door. Then each took a swing at his nose. His injuries, in addition to a burned groin and stomach, were two black eyes, several loose teeth, a broken nose, and lots of swelling.

Herb the cook stood in the front door with a huge butcher’s knife and observed.

Red lay in the seat of his truck for some time, trying to get his breath and hoping that his vision would clear enough for him to drive on.

Angie had called the sheriff’s office right away. A deputy would be coming by soon. He was on his way. Angie and the dispatcher both agreed that Red was no threat, but it wouldn’t hurt for the deputy to make his presence known.

Finally, after dousing a bottle of water over his eyes and finishing a cup of cold coffee, he could see and breathe enough to sit in the driver’s seat and handle the truck.

Les drove into the parking lot just as the International delivery truck pulled out on to the highway.

Viv was visibly shaken, so Angie ordered Les to take her home for a chance to relax and forget this morning. They did not get away quite soon enough. The deputy wanted a deposition from Vivian, Herb, and a couple people who had witnessed all of the confrontation. One of the witnesses had seen the truckers punch Red, but no one could remember their names or which truck was theirs. After a while the deputy apologized for holding them for so long, and congratulated Viv for her quick response and determination, and then released her.

It took a couple of days to finally relax and even laugh at what Red must be going through.

Red was used to trouble and hard times. His education beyond the sixth grade was almost nonexistent. He was kicked out, expelled, put on probation, and flunked out of almost every class that he enrolled in. As a teenager he spent most of his time getting high and selling marijuana enough to support his habit.

Somewhere in his late teens he was arrested for the umpteenth time. By this time the judge had lost all patience with Red and was ready to impose some serious prison time on him, when his parole officer persuaded the judge to give him one more chance, by approving his joining the Army.

The infantry would not have been his first choice, but it beat a jail cell. He got by okay for the first year and a half, but then he was arrested for assault. That charge got him busted back down to private. Not long after that he went A.W.O.L. for three weeks.

Having spent all of his money, and with nowhere else to go, he showed up for roll call one morning. This time he was sent to the brig and spent his days doing close order drills and scrubbing the floors with a small brush. The final straw came when he took a swing at a sergeant who was one of the jailers. Not only was he booted out with a bad conduct discharge, he nursed a dislocated shoulder for several months.

When he walked out of the gate into civilian life, his parole officer was there with a warning, Mess up and go to prison!

The brig had been enough to impress upon him that prison was not something that he wanted to know about. With help from the parole officer he got a job on the cleanup crew in a slaughterhouse working nights. The work was steady, and the wages were okay. Determined to stay out of jail, he became a good worker who never missed a day and never failed a drug test.

After several years he had saved enough to buy a used mobile home which he moved out on to an isolated pad way back at the end of the trailer park.

One of the fellows that he worked with was an avid hunter. During hunting season Red was the recipient of venison and antelope steaks as well as lots of stories of stalking, waiting, then at last would come the chance for a kill shot. Red was fascinated with the idea of taking an animal with stealth and cunning, so as soon as he could afford it he bought an older hunting rifle equipped with a scope and sling.

He would drive his very old Toyota out into the country to shoot at cans and bottles, and occasionally poach a white tail deer.

In the bar which he frequented he met Dora, a tiny wisp of a woman who was never without a cigarette and who could drink him under the table, any time.

She moved in with him and the two of them lived a fairly normal life for a while. She cooked whole meals and enjoyed being the wife. Both of them cut back on their drinking. They even took a small vacation to a lake where they sun bathed enough to be slightly burned, caught some fish, and enjoyed each other.

Then came the day when he back handed her across the mouth. He tried a clumsy apology, about how tired he was and how she sort of asked for it. Not a word was spoken after that. He had a bowl of cereal for dinner while she sat frozen, staring at the floor.

Late that night he was shocked awake by the blaring smoke alarm. The living room was engulfed in flames. In a stupor, he emptied two fire extinguishers to no avail. The fire was already inside the walls and ceiling. Closing