A Twisted Road

By Vincent Sachar

“Some say the road of life is filled with twists and turns and we often cannot see what lies ahead. The journey I embarked on was unplanned, even unexpected. Yet the more I followed the path, the more I learned along the way—the more I continue to learn.”

Chad Darrington never expected that he would become a national hero. He also never anticipated that he would also be regarded as a spokesperson for the plight of the American middle class.

From hero to icon to a man racing to save his family and his own life, A Twisted Road, tells the story of one man set against the powerful forces of those who seek to suppress and control the lives of so many others.

Vincent Sachar’s thriller/suspense novella will keep you turning the pages as he combines humor, drama, thrills, and suspense into a story that will keep you engaged from beginning to end.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Vincent Sachar
• Release date: Dec 5, 2015
• ISBN: 9780989813365

Vincent Sachar

Vincent J. SacharVincent J. Sachar is an attorney with a passion for writing fiction. He earned his Juris Doctor from St. John's Law School in New York. Despite much success in business, including a position as the youngest executive level Vice President, General Counsel, Corporate Secretary throughout the nation in his industry, Vince is now writing full time, having left his most recent position as a Managing Director in the legal division of a global consulting company. As a hybrid author, Vince has a traditional publisher and also self-publishes.Sachar is also an experienced public speaker. In addition to speaking at book events, high schools, colleges, universities, and book clubs, he has addressed crowds large and small (including with foreign language interpreters) and has done so in some very unique situations (such as a prison in Siberia).Sachar also conducts radio and internet interviews across the nation and has provided interviews for prominent author websites.A native New Yorker, Vince and his wife, Gwen, a native of southern Louisiana, met while attending Loyola University in New Orleans. Vince and Gwen currently reside in Florida.For more info, please visit Vince's author website at: www.vincentsachar.com.

Book preview

A Twisted Road

A Twisted Road

Vincent J Sachar

Contents

1. Chapter 1 - Black is Black

2. Chapter 2 - When It All Began

3. Chapter 3 - Middle Class

4. Chapter 4 - I Thought It Was Me

5. Chapter 5 - One Squeeze Too Many

6. Chapter 6 - Ain’t Got a Chance

7. Chapter 7 - The Day Everything Changed

8. Chapter 8 - There’s a New Kid in Town

9. Chapter 9 - Damage Control

10. Chapter 10 - A Second Encounter

11. Chapter 11 - It’s in the Eyes

12. Chapter 12 - Too Much at Stake

13. Chapter 13 - Getting Hotter

14. Chapter 14 - In Memoriam

15. Chapter 15 - Who’ll Stop the Rain

16. Chapter 16 - A Twisted Road

17. Chapter 17 - From Grief to Anger to Action

18. About the Author

1 Chapter 1 - Black is Black

Some say the road of life is filled with twists and turns and we often cannot see what lies ahead

When I arrived , everything was pitch black. Veiled behind the falling rain on a night devoid of any moonlight, the old mansion seemed to cry out in warning to me as I drew near.

I opened my car door. Blinding flashes of lightning bolts intermittently streaked across the black sky. Booming claps of thunder caused my body to jump each time they resounded, despite the fact that I knew exactly what they were. I ran in the blackness of the night towards the home of Elwood and Jane Montgomery.

The covered front porch offered some immediate reprieve. Nature’s fireworks of lightning followed by ground-shaking blasts of thunder continued to unnerve me, but at least I now had a covering over my head. The feeling, false as it was, that lightning was no longer a threat since I was not directly under the open sky also provided some comfort to me.

For the second time on this night, I arrived at a house where the front door was ajar. Elwood’s car was parked in front of the garage, instead of inside, as was their custom.

A cold chill ran through my body. I reached into my belt and pulled out my handgun. Now for the first time, I attempted to move my finger to the trigger and found that I was unable to do so. Hah! A gun that I could not fire. What now? Maybe use it like a hammer to club someone over the head? I placed it back in my belt.

Slowly, ever so slowly, I began to push open the huge front door and peer inside. I was greeted by blackness. I questioned at first whether my eyes would adjust permitting me to see anything. They hardly did.

I began to call out.

Elwood. Jane. Hello. Elwood, are you here? Hello. Anybody home? It’s me, Chad. Hello.

Through the front entrance, the foyer, into the large dining room, I moved slowly, cautiously, wishing that I had a flashlight to help me navigate through the large old house. I began to rub my hands along the walls in a frantic search for light switches. Finding them, however, offered no respite. The power to the house was off. My strongest hope was that the absence of power was a consequence of the storm.

No flashlight, no house lights, not even a freakin’ candle. To make matters worse, I had somehow left my cell phone behind when I gathered up Meg and the children and sped away from our home. So now I was immersed in a lightless maize and that was not about to change anytime soon.

I continued to walk slowly, with my arms outstretched. It reminded me of a monster movie I had seen as a child. I quickly dispelled that thought. This was certainly not a time to start thinking about monsters.

Thankfully, I had some remembrance of the layout of the first floor of this large home, but it did not help in determining distances and exact locations. I considered simply returning to my car, but I had to know whether Elwood and Jane were in the house and, if so, whether they were okay.

Right! There’s some really solid thinking. Front door open on a stormy night, car not in the garage, someone in their house screaming out their names and getting no response. What would make me think something might be wrong here?

My discomfort for what was occurring inside the house was increasing by the moment. From the moment that I arrived here, nothing about this situation felt right.

I considered that if I could get to the back of the house where the enclosed porch or veranda is located, perhaps I would get some help from moonlight and at least regain some sight. Then it struck me. There is no moonlight nor a single visible star in the sky on this night.

Forget the veranda, I had to get to the second floor.

I remembered, even from my first visit, that all the bedrooms in this mansion were on the second floor. That’s where Elwood and Jane slept. He once told me so.

Well, I may be a bit gimpy hobbling around with my trusty cane, Elwood said, but I still make it up the stairs to the bedroom each night.

At this point, I was not even sure where the stairs were as I stumbled in the darkness. Finally, I dropped on all fours, crawled to where I thought they might be, and hit payday. I stood up, grabbed the bannister, and began my ascent.

Was it possible that Elwood and Jane were asleep in a second floor bedroom and did not hear me with all the sounds of thunder and rain? Sure and they just happened to forget to close the front door and put their car in the garage as it had been every other time I ever came to this home.

My mind was flooded with a myriad of negative thoughts. I tried, I desperately tried, to divert my thoughts to something more positive or, at least, more productive, but they kept going back down the dark alleys I was trying so hard to avoid.

They burned down my place of business. They frightened Megan and the kids—had my wife hiding in a closet. Now it is very possible, even likely, that something harmful has been done to Elwood and his wife.

Elwood warned me. He said we were getting involved with people who are playing for keeps. What in God’s name have I gotten into? How did this happen? I would never have done anything that puts Megan and my children in harm’s way. I would never have involved myself in anything that might put Elwood and Jane at risk.

No, I didn’t ask for this. I need to get out. That’s what I need to do. I’ll take my family and run—someplace far away, out of Florida, for sure. Need to let things cool off.

As I approached the top of the stairwell, I admonished myself for engaging in such crazy thoughts. I told myself that I was wrong to let my imagination go off course and take me into irrational dark places that were not supported by any evidence whatsoever.

I paused for a moment and breathed deeply.

To the right of the top of the stairs, a small window overlooked the area below. I peered out for just a moment.

What I saw made my blood run cold.

2 Chapter 2 - When It All Began

"We can do something. We just don’t."

If someone were to ask me when this whole thing started and how I ended up where I am now, I would be hard-pressed to say. I suppose the day at the Department of Motor Vehicles might be it, although things had been stirring in my mind even before then.

I remember that while I was standing in the DMV line, I discreetly checked out others in the room. I honestly wondered whether such a throng of humans pressed together in so limited a space violated some type of fire safety or OSHA regulations. Then again, I also wondered if the Department of Motor Vehicles actually answers to anyone or are they like an independent nation of some sort?

When I first arrived, the line of people twisted, turned, and filled the room. Then, before long, the snake became an anaconda. I mean the line extended out the door and down the sidewalk fronting the strip mall stores and offices. And it was still growing.

Man, I could see a line like that for a major concert or sporting event—maybe even a really popular restaurant on a Friday night. But this kind of crowd for a freakin’ government office? Waiting this long so we can pay fees for the right to drive our own cars or whatever else requires us to visit this bureaucratic snake pit? This made absolutely no sense at all to me.

Initially, there were two women tending to the people. The placard in front of the now empty workstation read D. Anderson. It seems that Dorothy or Doris