The Hood: Origin

By Charlie Baxter

Roseburg was a typical, small, quiet, Oregon town until a rash of muggings in late 2005 threatens the peace. Seventeen year old college student Sam O’Sullivan wants nothing more than to find the place where she fits in, but when she is thrust into the fray, accidentally stopping an assault on Halloween night she discovers a strange new addiction: thwarting crime as a masked vigilante. Will she continue her search for normalcy, or will she embrace her new persona, Roseburg’s hometown superheroine, The Hood?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Charlie Baxter
• Release date: Oct 30, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463925188

Charlie Baxter

Charlie Baxter is the new author of “The Hood: Origin”. Charlie lives in the Pacific Northwest, U.S., has a loving, supportive significant other, Lilly, and enjoys good food and bad music.You can reach Charlie Baxter by email at [e-mail] .

Book preview

The Hood: Origin

by Charlie Baxter

Copyright 2019 Charlie Baxter

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes:

Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or noncommercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.

Thank you to Lilly, who always cheers me through all my endeavors.

Thank you to my beta reader, @aloonycynic. Your encouragement and critiques were invaluable.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 1

Monday, 9/26/2005

Community college was not going to be like high school. Thank God. High school was nothing but pride, raging hormones, and insecurity masked by ostentation. Now, fear mixed with a little hope is what Sam saw as she glanced around at her new peers. Maybe in this world of mismatched people she would find her place. The jungle of confusion she was used to was a far cry from her new company: young people looking to further their careers, teens going through the higher education motions, and out-of-work forty-somethings struggling to remain relevant in the workforce.

Striving hard to graduate a year early, the seventeen-year-old was a little sad that she had left her one close friend behind under the authority of the Lord of the Flies, but nothing was going to keep her in that hell-hole any longer than necessary. Maybe with space enough to breathe and to think she could scramble together some sort of plan for her life.

Roseburg was not the most exciting place for a teenager. Another dismal, jerkwater Oregon town on the Interstate Five Corridor, it was a hundred miles from the Pacific on one side, and walled in by the Cascades on the other. The Umpqua River weaved its way through town, sandwiched by lush, green banks that drew plenty of fishermen. But if you were not a patagoniac treehugger, or at least a has-been golfer, you would be bored out of your skull.

Last week was orientation for fall semester, 2005. She was now sitting in her first real class: Algebra. She positioned herself in the back row, far corner. She brushed her short, black hair out of her eyes, flipping through her math book idly with one hand, fiddling with her purple choker using the other. She had thrown on her usual charcoal jeans and checked belt. The cycle of her anxious thoughts was interrupted by sparse raindrops pattering against the window. She scanned the web of walkways that lie across Umpqua Community College’s lawn. Each pedestrian compared his class schedule to his map, heading to what he thought was the right building. The fact that she was not the only one lost eased her mind.

The rest of the morning crowd filed in. From her other classmates she took particular notice of a guy who looked like he was in his early twenties, tall, thin, with a light jacket on. His light blonde hair was uncombed, and was clean-shaven save a small soul patch. That is something Roseburg High did not have: men. It was all boys. Sam could not have been bothered to look twice at a guy before. Once, perhaps, but never twice.

Maybe I'll find something more interesting here.

7:45 struck just as the teacher walked in to begin the class. Alright, good morning. Without leaving space for her class to respond, she continued, Welcome to Math 111, College Algebra with Carter. If you’re not here for that class I would run.

As one disheveled student scrambled to pack up his belongings and race out the door the class rumbled with a chuckle.

There’s always one. We’ll start with attendance, and then get into the syllabus. Arquette, Jordan.

Here.

She went down the list, scribbling after each one. Douglas, Brent.

The guy Sam spotted earlier stretched his arm up. Here.

Before long it was her own turn. O’Sullivan, Samantha.

Just Sam. Of course, there was nothing wrong with the name Samantha, but she viewed it like fine china; it was only to be used on special occasions.

Carter jotted a note, and then continued. No rolled eyes from the teacher, no spiteful murmuring from Todd Dawson and his lackeys. Roll call felt like an odd end to take comfort in, but the lack of notice the class took was another weight lifted.

I can get used to this.

#

Sam trudged up the front steps to her parent’s suburban home, having conquered day one of her new school experience. Hey, dad! She threw the heavy door closed as her dad rose from the living room recliner.

How was your first day?

Good. They traded an embrace. The aroma of her mom’s chicken parmesan greeted Sam as she heard the oven door slam in the next room. It smelled about perfect, which meant that mom would leave it in there for a while longer.

Hey, honey. Her mother glided in, pulled off her oven mit, and gave her child a hug. "Tell us all about it. Just typical