[Fiction] Resurfacing of Joshua O'Malley

[lilwetslave]

Great job Mr.North
You've got me hooked

[ofthenorth]

Don't I always?

[lilwetslave]

This is true
.....

[storyboy]

another great chapter!

[timetoshine]

Amazing as always. I look forward to the next part.

[Dicedarefan666]

Well, despite my distaste for the ending of the previous story, this new incarnation has my interest piqued. The league of serial killers bit seems a bit silly, but other than that, I quite like it. I'll keep reading, and hoping you keep posting

[ofthenorth]

I agree it does seem a bit silly but it allows me much more freedom in my writing. It's not gonna be a huge aspect of the story but it allows me to focus my attention and creativity to the killing, perversion, cliffhangers, and other more interesting aspects rather than as close to realistically getting away with the things he does. Most chapters will focus on a particular incident, some form of crime, killing, sexual encounter or something of that nature. Granted it is a silly aspect to the story, it allows me an escape route when I rope myself into a stupid corner as I did with the ambulance escape. This silliness will ultimately allow me more escapes, thus allowing the story to continue longer and provide more entertainment for everyone.

My writing style is spur of the moment, I don't plan my writing, never reread it, and publish it immediately after writing it. If I went back for more than a quick spell check I'd kill myself over stupid details. So the "league" is essentially my backup plan so I don't screw myself into a no-win situation without getting COMPLETELY far-fetched and saying things like "Then I picked up an abandoned AK-47 off the ground and blasted away all the cops that had me against the wall." Granted a large conglomerate of serial killers is a little far-fetched but how much more far-fetched is it than a modern day organized crime syndicate? There are websites and groups of people that regularly kidnap, traffic, prostitute and "employ the services of" young women and even some men and they openly express it with very little hiding. Who's to say there's not the same thing for serial killers that no one knows about?

Overall it's just a back up plan, but hey, you never know.

Thanks though for all the support from everyone. I know I disappointed a lot with the ending of the last one. I felt I owed it to you to run a sequel that hopefully blows the last one out of the water.

Just so you all know, I'm also writing another personal story in my spare time so this isn't my sole project so updates might now be AS quick but I'll try to never let it go more than a week.

[BlitzMundane]

Good morning.
It's 5:11 am. Can't sleep, due to my sunburned shoulders insisting on sticking to my pillow. Quite uncomfortable.
Haven't read the story yet, so I don't have anything to say, by way of if I like it or not...
Mmmm, Reese's Puffs...
Just saying that I'm alive. And will read it... later. Or now, since I can't sleep. Stupid. *facepalm*

[Dicedarefan666]

Originally Posted by ofthenorth

I agree it does seem a bit silly but it allows me much more freedom in my writing. It's not gonna be a huge aspect of the story but it allows me to focus my attention and creativity to the killing, perversion, cliffhangers, and other more interesting aspects rather than as close to realistically getting away with the things he does. Most chapters will focus on a particular incident, some form of crime, killing, sexual encounter or something of that nature. Granted it is a silly aspect to the story, it allows me an escape route when I rope myself into a stupid corner as I did with the ambulance escape. This silliness will ultimately allow me more escapes, thus allowing the story to continue longer and provide more entertainment for everyone.

My writing style is spur of the moment, I don't plan my writing, never reread it, and publish it immediately after writing it. If I went back for more than a quick spell check I'd kill myself over stupid details. So the "league" is essentially my backup plan so I don't screw myself into a no-win situation without getting COMPLETELY far-fetched and saying things like "Then I picked up an abandoned AK-47 off the ground and blasted away all the cops that had me against the wall." Granted a large conglomerate of serial killers is a little far-fetched but how much more far-fetched is it than a modern day organized crime syndicate? There are websites and groups of people that regularly kidnap, traffic, prostitute and "employ the services of" young women and even some men and they openly express it with very little hiding. Who's to say there's not the same thing for serial killers that no one knows about?

Overall it's just a back up plan, but hey, you never know.

Thanks though for all the support from everyone. I know I disappointed a lot with the ending of the last one. I felt I owed it to you to run a sequel that hopefully blows the last one out of the water.

Just so you all know, I'm also writing another personal story in my spare time so this isn't my sole project so updates might now be AS quick but I'll try to never let it go more than a week.

Right yes, I understand, I can hardly fault you, plot devices are a necessary evil, and honestly, I'm only mentioning it because you seem like such a strong writer, it's honestly the one place in the story so far I can find any sort of fault. This far outshines most stories on gD. I'll continue reading!

[ofthenorth]

Chapter 5 “Border Jumping”
I make my way to the airport just down the road from Eastridge. Susan let me borrow her car and told me to leave it in the parking garage, she’d come pick it up later. I had called and informed Ronald that I’d be there around five in the afternoon, and that I needed a flight out.

Now Ronald wasn’t part of the group, however, I did have leverage on him that made him do just about anything for me. You see, three years ago he was an investment banker for a company that I had interests in, part of how I was able to carry out my plans with Janet and Kate (damn, I miss Kate). Well, Ronald happened to be a little greedier than the average person in finance and I busted him embezzling approximately twenty-five million dollars over the course of ten years. Well Ronald, I knew, was an amateur pilot and had plans to start a private tours business upon retirement, which was only two years away. I allowed him to keep his job and agreed to silence, however, his plane and piloting service would be at my disposal 24/7. Obviously, he agreed.

Once I reached the airport I made my way to the private charter terminal and made it through security without a hitch. Remember, the only people that have any description of me are locked up in Susan’s house, and the sketch of me from months ago is clearly outdated, as I have changed my look so much since then. I made my way to the tarmac where Ronald was waiting, his modified Antonov An-2 ready and waiting. He bought it as a surplus plane from a Russian military supplier. They had been importing them to the US for cheap civilian transports. He refurbished it with swivel chairs so passengers could look directly out the windows or at each other, a mini bar, and a full entertainment system for those simply wanting a relaxing city-to-city flight.

Once inside the plane Ronald confirmed our destination was Edgar G. Obie Airport in Chinook, MT. He tried to ask why I needed to go there and I told him not to worry about it. He shut up and began the pre-flight checklist. A few minutes later we were taxiing to the runway and he radioed the tower for clearance. Once he received it we taxied out and he throttled up, few seconds later we were airborne.

Upon reaching cruising altitude I asked him if he packed what I had requested. He said he had and I went to the back to check. There in the passenger compartment was a parachute specially designed for BASE jumping and able to deploy fast enough to perform a jump from well below one thousand feet, a backpack with five of the military surplus, “Meal Ready to Eat” (MRE) packs, a hunting knife, a single man tent, water purification tablets, some rain gear and a few other necessary camping tools. All that I’ll need to survive my jump across the border.

I crawled back to the cabin and informed him that he was to make a pass about ten miles east of the Lake Thibadeau National Wildlife Refuge and drop to approximately one thousand feet. I informed him that this would be the last I’d need his services and once I made my jump he’d never hear from me again.

A few hours later and a few reserve fuel tanks emptied, we were approaching the jump zone. I knew the chute wasn’t designed for aircraft jumps but I couldn’t risk being spotted from a higher altitude jump. It was a risk I’d have to take. I strapped it on and tied the backpack to a leg.

Ronald yelled back at me, “This is it, twenty seconds. So long.”
“Thanks for the ride,” I yelled as I opened the door, “and sorry for this.”
“WHAT?” Ronald yelled, trying to hear over the wind blowing in the open door. He turned to look bac,k hoping to read my lips, and was met face to muzzle with a 9mm semi-auto.
“Goodbye, Ronald.” Before he had time to react I placed a round through is forehead, just as the plane began to pitch I turned and jumped. I fell for just under two seconds and yanked the ripcord. My chute blasted out and caught the air just as I approached the treetops. Unless someone was climbing trees or camping this far out there’s no way I’d have been spotted.

I knew I didn’t have much time before search and rescue would be deployed to the downed aircraft. I wasn’t on the manifest so they’d only be looking for the pilot, and I had told him to go radio silent as we neared Chinook so it’d appear as if there was a problem. I knew the black box would say different as he was still in full control but it’d be a few days before that was analyzed and I’d be in Canada by then.

I saw the plane hit the ground, probably a little over a mile from where I hit the trees. I was lucky he didn’t fall forward on the stick and dive in right where I was landing. I hit the trees and got caught in the branches. I pulled my leg up and grabbed the knife from the side of the backpack. I swung to a large branch and cut the lines. Then I pulled the backpack to me, untied it and put it on. My last act was pulling out a small bottle of kerosene and lighting the cords. The rescuers will just see it as some forest fire. They won’t even know a chute was there until arson investigators scan it and with the plane taking priority I’m in the clear.

I watch as the flames run up the cords and I quickly climb down the tree. I pull out a compass and find north and take off running. I estimate I’m about fifteen to twenty miles from the border and I have about a day or two before they notice something wrong about the crash and come looking for other passengers, unless the plane didn’t catch fire. Then they’ll notice the bullet in Ronald’s, ok I might as well tell you his name now, Jackson’s forehead right away. I better get a move on.

[lilwetslave]

Very good Mr. North.
I am, however, mad at you for making me wait sooo long!

[ofthenorth]

You can get over it :P

I was busy on vacation.

[timetoshine]

Finally. if feels like its been forever since that last time you posted. its just as good as always. keep writing. ill look forward to the next part.

[ofthenorth]

The next part will come sooner than this one. Like I said I was on vacation. And as you can see he is almost to your town. I realized as I was writing I couldn't have him fly across the border without some seriously unrealistic activities.

[lilwetslave]

It was GREAT!!!!
He should come to my town...... nice, northern secluded town.....lol