\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/461653
Item Icon
Rated: GC · Book · Action/Adventure · #1167223
A Navy SEAL, crippled by wounds, is given a chance to be whole again … but at what price?
#461653 added October 14, 2006 at 10:45pm
Restrictions: None
Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12

Brandi and Arnie were on the road at five thirty the next morning, and by eight they were leaving the warehouse with the load bound for LA. Neither of them paid any mind to the black Ford Explorer trailing them at a distance, though Brandi did see the SUV in the mirror. It was one of thousands of vehicles on the interstate and was too far back for Brandi to detect anything about the occupants. An hour and a half later Arnie pulled into a truck stop off I-5 so they could get some breakfast.

“Don’t know how you stay so skinny the way you eat girl,” Arnie said with a grin as he watched Brandi wolf down a huge breakfast.

“Just good genes I guess,” Brandi told him.

After eating Brandi made a side trip to the ladies room while Arnie went out to get the truck started. Though her body was capable of metabolizing everything she ingested without producing any waste, when she had plenty of food available she still used the bathroom fairly normally.

After she was finished she spent several minutes staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her long blonde hair was tied back with a scrunchie, the only way she knew to keep it under some kind of control. While at the lab, just days after her transformation, she had begged and pleaded and finally refused to cooperate with any testing until they had someone come in and cut her hair. She had them cut it short, but Susan had convinced her to keep the style feminine, so she had gone with a pixie cut. Brandi had been quite satisfied with the result, but when she woke up the next morning her hair was once again waist length. Her body had interpreted the cut as damage and repaired it while she slept. Brandi had spent the entire day crying.

She was used to the length now, though she did wish she knew more about maintaining and styling it. She knew that if she was to function she as a girl she needed to know such things. With a sigh, Brandi left the restroom and headed out of the restaurant to meet Arnie.

As she walked outside, the rig sped past her, heading for the access road that would take it back to the interstate, the black SUV right behind it. Brandi sensed three people in the rig; one appeared to be unconscious, and saw two more in the Explorer. Arnie’s truck was being hijacked.

The safe thing to do would have been to go back inside and notify the highway patrol of the hijacking. Brandi of course started running after the truck. It pulled onto the access road and then the ramp which would take it back to the southbound lane of I-5. The ramp curved around in a big loop before passing under the access road and then connecting to the interstate. Brandi turned, running up the access road as fast as she could, thankful for the sports bra that held her breasts tightly confined. She was no sprinter; her body was better suited to endurance running, but the truck could only travel at a slow speed and the ramp was long. She reached the overpass several seconds before the truck passed under.

As the cab came into view Brandi jumped, landing on the forward part of the trailer, going prone to keep out of sight and reduce the drag from the wind as the truck picked up speed. The view of the two men in the trailing SUV was blocked by the overpass, though several passing motorists saw her make the jump. If they called it in fine; the highway patrol would stop the rig and she would deal with the men inside before they could hurt Arnie. No one made the call.

They continued south on the interstate until the truck finally exited and headed west near Bakersfield. The westward journey continued and they eventually turned onto a poorly maintained stretch of blacktop which soon became a narrow dirt road winding upward into the mountains. Brandi wore no watch but knew it was just after noon; since her transformation she had developed an innate sense of time, almost like she had a built in clock.

They stopped at what could only be described as a ghost town. Several ramshackle buildings dotted the dusty street. They appeared to date from the late twenties, though Brandi could not be sure. At the end of the street was a large warehouse which the truck backed into. Inside there was another rig waiting, along with six men. Arnie’s truck was backed up to the waiting rig and the seal and lock was pried off. Once the doors were open a ramp was slid across between the two trailers.

The men in the truck got out, dragging the still unconscious Arnie with them. It took the two of them to move the big man, and Brandi could see from her vantage point atop the trailer that Arnie had a large bump behind his right ear.

The two from the truck were joined by the pair from the Explorer, and one of the waiting men stepped over to them. He wore a light jacket and Brandi detected the outline of a weapon beneath his left arm. There was something about him; the way he carried himself, an air of self assurance about him, that warned Brandi that he was dangerous.

“Where’s the girl that was with him?” The man demanded.

“She never came outta the diner,” one of the men said. “She was just a hitcher Chuck, he probably cut her loose.”

“Max said she was his niece you idiot!” Chuck shouted. “She’s probably already called the cops!”

Brandi’s eyes narrowed at the mention of Max, the manager of the big parts store in LA they had made delivery at. So Arnie’s truck had been targeted.

Moving to the back of the two trucks Chuck barked, “Get your asses in gear! We gotta get the load transferred and get out of here.”

“Take him into the office and tie him up,” he told the two men holding Arnie. “Then get out here and help. We’ll deal with him later.”

Brandi sized up the odds; ten to one. She had taken on six trained opponents at the lab, but none of them had been armed. She did not know how many bullets it would take to drop her, but even one to the right place could seriously slow her down. She had to even the odds and that meant doing something she really did not want to do.

With a sigh of resignation she slipped stealthily from the top of the trailer and into the cab. She retrieved her duffel bag and pulled out the clothes she had bought in LA. In a few minutes she was back in the crop top, spandex pants and high heeled boots. This time there was no fear brought on by her attire. This time she had a mission ... and she would go as far as she had to.

Once dressed she closed her eyes and concentrated. She had never tried fighting while in an altered form, and did not know if she would be able to maintain the necessary concentration. Still it was the only option she had, as the four men that had hijacked the truck knew she had been left behind at the truck stop.

When she opened her eyes she gazed at her reflection in the small mirror on the wall of the sleeper. Her hair was now a deep wine red, hanging just past her shoulders. Her face was older, making her look like she was in her late twenties and her eyes were jade green. Instead of youthful innocence she had a sultry, seductive look. She kept her figure the same, not wanting to risk altering her balance.

She slipped the duffel over her shoulder and left the cab, gently closing the door so as to not alert the hijackers. Moving stealthily, she reached the entrance to the garage and then intentionally knocked over a stack of empty wooden crates. The noise drew the men from the trailers and Chuck was quickly at her side, grabbing her roughly by the arm.

“P ... please don’t hurt me!” Brandi cried. Her voice now a smoky alto.

“Where the hell did you come from?” Chuck demanded.

“I ... I was just lookin’ for a place to rest outta the sun,” she told him, tears beginning to streak down her cheeks. “I’m tryin’ to get to LA but I got lost and I can’t find the highway. P ... please I didn’t see anything ... I won’t tell nobody nothin’!”

“Ya know she might be worth keepin’ around Chuck,” one of the hijackers said as he leered at her.

“Shut up Eddie!” Chuck snarled. “Take her into the office and watch her ... the rest of you get back to work!”

“Please I won’t say nothin’,” Brandi told Chuck as he passed her off to Eddie. Her tears were gone and she gave him a nervous smile. “We can, ya know, like work somethin’ out honey.”

“Ya know she might be right Chuck,” one of the others chuckled.

“We’ll worry about that later. Get her in the office, Eddie, and if she gives you any trouble smack her.”

Eddie dragged Brandi to the office and thrust her inside. Arnie was awake, gagged and tied to a wooden chair. As he saw the two enter he stopped struggling against his bonds.

“Settle down pal!” Eddie snarled.

“You don’t gotta be so mean, Eddie honey,” Brandi purred. She turned her eyes towards a doorway leading from the office to another room in which several beds were arranged. “Like I said, I can be lotsa fun to have around. Why dontcha let me show you how much fun.”

“Yeah right, Chuck would break my neck,” Eddie chuckled, but his eyes kept darting from Brandi to the other room.

“I’m not gonna tell him if you don’t,” Brandi said as she moved close and touched his chest. It was too risky to take him down in the outer office, as it had a window that placed them in full view of the men moving back and forth between the two trucks. She had to get him into the other room first. For the first time since the transformation, she embraced her constant arousal, and her nipples began to harden, making them plainly visible beneath the thin lycra top.

“I been on the road awhile, and its been sooo long since I had any fun,” she pouted, allowing her hands to roam over her breasts. “I haven’t been with a guy in a really long time and, well, you’re makin’ me really hot.”

“Well I don’t know ....” Eddie said, his face reddening.

“Come on lover,” Brandi sighed, pouring it on as she gently grasped his hand. “It won’t hurt a bit ... I promise.”

Arnie watched as Brandi led Eddie by the hand into the other room, and began struggling at his bonds again. As they passed, Brandi turned and gave him a smile and a wink. The door to the room closed and seconds later Arnie heard a muffled cry followed by the sound of wood splintering. A moment later Brandi emerged from the room alone.

“Okay, maybe it hurt for just a second,” she giggled. In her hand was a pocket knife which she had found on Eddie. It looked like the type with a thumb stud for opening the blade one handed, but Brandi had seen its kind before. She pressed her thumb down on the side slab and the spring loaded blade snapped open as a hidden release was triggered.

“Arnie listen to me carefully,” Brandi said before cutting his bonds. “I know this is gonna be hard to believe but I’m Brandi. I snuck into your truck two nights ago at a rest stop south of Vegas.

“There are still nine of them out there, and at least one is armed. You have to promise you will let me handle this. If you don’t promise, I’ll leave you tied up and handle it anyway.”

Arnie shook his head furiously and Brandi tried again.

“Arnie, I can take care of myself,” she assured him. “I know you’re a strong man and can handle yourself, but I don’t want you in the line of fire.”

Something about her own words struck a chord in Brandi’s mind, and for some reason she had a brief flashback to that night in the desert northwest of Baghdad. She shook it off and returned to the job at hand.

“Arnie do you promise?”

Reluctantly Arnie nodded his agreement. Brandi cut him free, figuring if he tried to get macho she could always disable him the same way she had Susan, when she escaped from the lab. She closed the knife and clipped it inside the right waistband of her pants, just behind her right hip.

“What the hell? Who are you?” Arnie demanded as she removed the gag from him.

“Shhhh,” she cautioned. “I really am Brandi. They knocked you out and hijacked your truck. Max set you up.”

Arnie’s eyes hardened and he started to rise but Brandi pushed him back down.

“Just be cool and when this is over I will tell you everything ... everything about me. For now you have to trust me. I need you to put the gag back in and sit in the chair and act like you’re still tied up and out cold. If all goes well I’ll be back here in a minute with another of these goons.”

Arnie looked as though he was about to object, and then nodded his head. Brandi smiled and then rose to her feet and stepped over to the door. She grasped the neckline of her top near her left shoulder and ripped, leaving her left breast nearly exposed. Then she took a deep breath, screamed at the top of her lungs and ran into the garage.

She ran right into Chuck’s arms and began sobbing as she fell to her knees. He jerked her up roughly and shook her, demanding to know what was going on.

“He ... he attacked me!” Brandi cried. “He said he wasn’t gonna be second to you ... he ... he was gonna get his first. I got loose and hit him with a chair.”

“Fucking moron,” Chuck muttered, turning to the others and snarling, “Tommy, you come with me, the rest of you get back to work! I’ll deal with this.”

Grabbing Brandi by the arm Chuck stormed towards the office, Tommy trailing behind. Chuck shoved Brandi roughly through the office doorway ahead of him and then followed. He took a quick look at Arnie, apparently still out cold and tied to the chair, and then stomped into the other room.

Eddie lay on the floor, pieces of a broken wooden chair scattered about his inert form. Had Chuck taken a bit more time to examine the scene, he might have noticed that the chair pieces were under Eddie, since it had in fact broken when he fell on it after Brandi hit him.

“Shit,” Chuck swore, returning to the outer office and turning to Tommy. “When that asshole wakes up send him out. You watch her and keep your fucking hands to yourself!”

Brandi had no intention of letting Chuck or his weapon leave the office, and was preparing to take him down when the chair Arnie was on decided it had been holding up his two hundred thirty-four pounds too long, no doubt sped to its end by his earlier struggles to free himself. With a groan and a snap one of the legs gave out and the whole chair disintegrated as it, and Arnie, crashed to the floor. His arms flailed about wildly as he tried to break his fall.

“He’s loose!” Tommy cried, pulling a small revolver from the pocket of his jacket. Chuck also reached for his holstered weapon.

Brandi punched out with her right hand, but Chuck was so close it ended up as more of a powerful shove, causing him to stumble back and into the wall. She then pivoted on her left foot and sent her right into Tommy’s sternum. The kick lifted him off the ground and sent him sailing through the office window, the glass was long since gone, and into the garage outside. One of the men working on the trucks saw this and called out.

~ This is going to be interesting. ~

Chuck had his pistol free, an automatic, and was regaining his balance and raising it towards Brandi. She was moving to disarm him when she caught movement from either side; Arnie and Tommy both were getting up and Tommy was raising his pistol towards the trucker.

Time slowed to a crawl for Brandi as she switched gears. Her right hand reached back, pulling the knife from her waist band. As she swung it forward she pressed the right handle scale and the blade flicked open. The knife was never meant for throwing, but as she pivoted to face Tommy, her mind instantly calculated the weight, balance point and flight characteristics of the blade. Attempting to take out his arm was too risky she calculated; he could still get off a shot. This had to be a killing throw. She released the knife underhand, the blade tumbling through the air to bury itself to the hilt in Tommy’s throat. He dropped his gun and sank to the floor.

It had taken only two seconds to eliminate the threat from Tommy, but that had been enough time for Chuck to bring his weapon on target. Even as Brandi turned back to face him he fired. The bullet struck her in the upper abdomen, just beneath her left breast. Brandi staggered back and looked down. Blood was pumping from the wound and she felt a sudden difficulty breathing, which told her the bullet had punctured her lung. Raising her eyes towards Chuck she smiled, a savage, feral smile, and then advanced again.

Wide eyed with disbelief Chuck fired again, snapping off three more shots rapidly. Brandi felt the bullets impact her upper abdomen and lower chest as she closed the short distance to him, but she did not stop this time. In fact, she let out an animal-like snarl and leapt forward, grabbing his right arm by the wrist and elbow. She snapped it downward causing Chuck to howl in agony as his elbow dislocated. The gun clattered to the floor as Brandi brought her right hand up and backhanded him across the jaw, and then hit him with a spinning back kick that slammed him once more against the office wall. He slid to the floor and Brandi was on him in an instant.

What happened next was almost a blur. Brandi drew her right hand back, and Chuck’s eyes grew wide in horror as her nails grew from their normal half inch length to three inches. As they did so, the tips became razor sharp points. Her hand flashed forward, stopping just as the tips made contact with his throat.

For a few heartbeats Brandi stared at the frightened man. She knew she had been on the very edge of a blind rage and it frightened her. With concentrated effort, she shrank the nails back to their normal length and then punched Chuck in the face, knocking him out. Leaving him there on the floor she rose and turned towards the office window.

“Brandi!” Arnie cried as he moved towards her. She spared him a quick glance and a smile forced through the pain, and then dove out through the office window and towards the remaining hijackers as they cautiously approached the office. Her body was in full combat mode now, and her pain response lowered to zero. It was an automatic response, intended to allow her to fight effectively even though injured. She still felt the pain but she no longer reacted to it, so her fighting was unhindered.

Arnie watched in stunned amazement, as the redheaded woman who claimed to be Brandi hit the garage floor and rolled to her feet. It was like a bizarre and violent ballet as she spun and tumbled in the midst of the seven remaining men. He was reminded of ‘The Matrix’, but without the stop action visual effects. She would leap into the air, spinning about to take down three men with one kick, then land gracefully and dodge a series of attacks from the rest. One by one their numbers dwindled, several going down with broken bones and dislocated joints. This was the real thing, and Brandi had no reservations about hurting any of these men.

When it was over, she stood with the unconscious forms of the hijackers scattered about her. She was laboring to breath, but that was more due to the punctured lung than the physical exertion. Arnie rushed from the office as she turned to face him, and was stopped cold by what he saw.

Before the trucker’s eyes her form changed and the Brandi he knew stood there, her stomach and lower chest covered in blood which still oozed from the four bullet wounds. Her pink top was now mostly red, and blood was splattered about the garage around the fight zone. She took two staggering steps forward and would have fallen if Arnie had not caught her.

“Oh sweet Jesus!” Arnie exclaimed.

“Zigged when I shoulda zagged.” Brandi quipped, and then coughed up bright red blood.

“Hang on darlin’ I’ll call for help.” Arnie said gently as he lowered her to the floor. He started to rise but Brandi held out a hand to stop him.

“Please Arnie, no cops,” she pleaded. “Not yet.”

“Cops hell, you need an ambulance!”

“I’ll be fine Arnie, I promise.” Brandi assured him. She was not entirely sure that was true; this was by far the most serious injury she had suffered since her transformation. Still, she already seemed to be able to breathe a little easier. She could feel the tingling throughout her torso that signaled her body was healing.

“Brandi, that’s a suckin’ chest wound.” Arnie said. He did not even know how she was staying conscious. “I seen those before and …”

“Yeah so have I.” Brandi interrupted. “Bullet punctured my lung. Can you find me a first aid kit?”

“Brandi, we got to get you some help!” Arnie begged.

“Arnie I’m not gonna die,” Brandi soothed. “You saw … you know now. I … I’m not like you … not anymore. There are people looking for me because of it, and if you call the cops those people will find me. Please just help me patch these wounds up.”

Arnie relented and retrieved the first aid kit from his truck. Brandi removed her top and used it to clean up the blood, which had now nearly stopped flowing completely. Her pain response was back; she could only keep it suppressed for short periods of time which she assumed was a safety precaution, so tending to the wounds made her flinch repeatedly.

Inside the first aid kit was a plastic bag filled with band aids of various sizes. Brandi dumped the band aids out and then exhaled hard. She slapped the bag in place over the wound and held it tightly, and had Arnie secure it with tape on three sides.

“The open side will let the air out when I exhale,” Brandi explained. She then had Arnie cover the bag and the other wounds with gauze pads and wrap her entire abdomen with gauze. When it was done she sat there on the floor, her arms covering her exposed breasts, as Arnie retrieved her duffel bag and got a t-shirt out for her. For the first time she felt self conscious about her body, and blushed in embarrassment as Arnie helped her into the shirt.

She needed sleep, Zen sleep, but she knew this place was not safe. Arnie would have to report the hijacking, and she could not be there when the authorities arrived.

“Help me up please,” Brandi asked and Arnie practically lifted her to her feet. After a few seconds of dizziness she was steady. Brandi took her navy blue sweatshirt from the bag and slipped it on, and then sat down and slipped off the high heeled boots. She had a long walk ahead of her and was not going to do it in three inch heels.

“We need to tie these morons up,” Brandi said as she began donning her combat boots. “Then I’ll get out of here. Give me thirty minutes before you call the cops. Don’t forget about Max.”

“What do I tell the cops?” Arnie asked as he helped her to her feet again. “Good God A’mighty, there’s blood everywhere and a dead body over there!”

“The blood will be gone in less than an hour,” Brandi told him. “I don’t leave traces. You tell the cops the truth; mostly ... these guys hijacked you and brought you here. Some redhead showed up and kicked their asses. Then she disappeared. Their stories should back you up. If any questions come up about the blonde you picked up, tell them I said my name was…Tiffany…and you last saw me at the diner.”

Brandi looked around the garage. There were stacks of shipping crates and boxes everywhere.

“From the looks of this place these guys have been at this a while,” she said. “The cops will be ecstatic they can wrap this up.”

“And where will I find you?” Arnie asked.

“I’m not sure you should,” Brandi said sadly. “Maybe we should just say goodbye here.”

“I ain’t goin nowhere ‘till I know for sure you’re ok,” Arnie said, his tone making it plain that he would not hear any argument.

“All right Arnie,” Brandi sighed. “There was a town about ten miles east of here called Carsonville. There’s a Holiday Inn on the east side of town. After the cops let you go stop there for the night and check in. Don’t look for me. I’ll be in the truck by seven in the morning.”

“Brandi you been shot!” Arnie protested. “I don’t know how you’re even standin’ up but you cain’t walk ten miles!”

“I can and I will,” Brandi said. “I can be a real bitch when I’m in pain Arnie and I hurt like hell right now. Please don’t make me knock you out.”

Arnie looked around at the still unconscious men and had no doubt Brandi could take him down with no trouble, even injured. He sighed and nodded his head in resignation.

They found enough rope to tie all the hijackers up. Chuck awoke as Brandi was securing him, crying out in pain as his broken elbow was jostled. Brandi punched him and sent him out again…it was the humane thing to do. Before leaving the office she gathered up the spent casings from the floor and pocketed them. If Chuck tried to tell his story about shooting her four times it would be hard enough to believe and the absence of any spent brass would only make it harder. When she was finished Arnie brought her things to her and she gave him a reassuring smile before heading out of the ghost town.

Arnie settled down to wait, giving Brandi an hour instead of the thirty minutes she asked for. It was another two hours before the first highway patrol car arrived.

*****

Vince Harris, an investigator with the California Bureau of Investigations, surveyed the scene inside the warehouse one more time before joining his partner Angela Morrow.

“So what do you think happened here?” Angela asked him.

“I don’t know Angel,” Harris said slowly. “The trucker’s story fits with what the hijackers are saying. Some mysterious woman showed up and freed him, after taking out these jerks.”

“And you believe that?”

“Arnie Belcher has a spotless record,” Harris said. “The manager of the parts store has admitted he tipped Chuck off when he overheard Belcher setting up this load. This trucker got off luckier than the others.”

“Yeah I saw the graves,” Angel remarked. Behind the garage they had found the graves of eight truckers who had not been as lucky as Arnie. The authorities had been looking for the hijacking ring for over a year. Upon finding out he was an accessory to multiple murders Max had been only too happy to cooperate, insisting he had only passed on information this one time for a promised five thousand dollars.

“The evidence against these guys is rock solid,” Harris continued. “We won’t even need the trucker’s testimony to put them away, and they’ll all go down for murder.”

“So what do we do about the girl?”

“All we have is a description with no name,” Harris said. “We’ll put out a bulletin but as far as I’m concerned she did us a big favor. I wish her well.”

*****

It took Brandi four hours to cover the ten miles back to the town. She had to stay away from the road and the rough terrain slowed her down. She needed rest to heal, and was feeling weaker than she ever had. The sun was beginning to sink behind the mountains to the west as she trudged into the small town.

When she reached the hotel she considered calling up what strength she had left and altering her form, but decided it was likely they would want to see her ID. She seriously doubted she had the strength to change anyway. She got a room for one night, paying in cash, and as soon as she was inside with the door locked she collapsed on the bed and in minutes she was deep in Zen sleep.

She awoke just before four in the morning. She was ravenously hungry, so she packed quickly and slipped out of the room, dropping her key by the office. Arnie’s truck was in the parking lot and Brandi smiled when she saw it. She spotted a waffle house across the street and decided there was plenty of time for her to get something to eat before she slipped into the cab to wait for Arnie.


© Copyright 2006 Scott Ramsey (UN: scottramsey at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Scott Ramsey has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/461653