Clawed Hands… #atozchallenge

“Christ, Rocky, help me.” Suddenly they were
surrounded by bony skeletal figures. Clawed hands grappled
with living flesh. The stench and smell of death was around
them. Foul breaths and dead flesh filled the air with its
stench.
More Diesel engines began their sinister growl. The
bestial sound filled the air with a challenge. A kicked up
roar that was deafening proved that many feet had the pedal
on the floor. Was death providing a cheer for its ghoulish
companions to strive and conquer?
Rocky kicked and fought back. He used his pistol as a
club, shattering and breaking. Hector tore into a ghoulish
threesome. Breaking and hammering with his fists, covered
in dead hair, he grabbed, threw and broke bodies that were
already dead.
A chorus of roars followed and the sound of clattering
metal pushed against Rocky and Hector. Other engines
followed in a cacophony of brutal sound. Roars. Crashes.
Unearthly screams made the ground tremble and the building
shook.
“Can barely stand,” Hector yelled, leaning against the
wave of sound.

A single pair of lights came on. Then, the driving
lights on a trailer box. An eighteen-wheeler. Hector was on
his knees, his hands clasped over his ears. “I can’t
believe this is happening,” Hector screamed.
They were surrounded by bones, broken, mashed and some
with skin still on. The creatures that survived had backed
off.
Horns blared out and rose in pitch. Insistent and
mocking, their pitch became a physical force that bumped
and pushed against Rocky and Hector.
Rocky stood against the noise and rolled the Buddha in
his jacked pocket, trying to find peace. There was none.
But he continued to search.
Another engine started and then another, and more
continued to fire up in a growling challenge. But in the
clouded light Rocky saw the Humvee. It had a Baja Police
seal on the door. There it was. Just get it and we’ll get
out. But Rocky wondered how do you open the big door to get
out?
“Hector, can you drive that thing?”
“Sure, don’t need a key just flip the switch.”
“Okay, get in there and I’ll try to figure out how to
open the big door.”

Hector screamed. A figure appeared in the headlights
and cast a long shadow over him.
It spoke in hissed. “You’ll like being like us?”
Mute, Hector could only stare at the thing. “You’re
kidding me, you’re an ugly piece of shit,” he screamed.
“Soon, I’ll make you like me.” The creature said. His
jaw cracked when he smiled. His clawed hands reached out.
Hector did a two-step dodge and ran around the
menacing figure.
“My God, Rocky,” Hector yelled. Another menace clawed
him. More were closing in on him.
Rocky worked at a chain and latch, and the big door
began to rise.
“Rocky,” Hector screamed again. “They’re back.”
Rocky turned, pulled his pistol and fired at the near
figure. The bullet blew it into pieces of flying matter.

Be Wary… #atozchallenge

Be wary, Rocky told himself. Inside the huge structure Rocky and Hector listened to the idling Diesel. It was dark inside.

“Whaduya wannna do, Rock?”

“What are we looking for?”

“A Humvee.”

Okay just hang loose until we see light or some movement.”

Other engines began to start in the darkness.

“Jesus Christos,” muttered Hector.

Coughs and pops merged into a thunderous roar. The exhaust choking fog trembled and surrounded them. Headlights that opened the darkness were so bright they hurt ones eyes to look at them.

“Eighteen wheelers are what they drive,” shouted Hector. “And there they are.”

Driving lights lit the trailer boxes. Like an evil circus colored lights filled the space with ominous colors. “They ride tight on other truckers tails and force them over, sometimes run them off the road.”

“Why do they do that?” asked Rocky.

“They got a bond with the devil. They take what they want. They’re dead but they can’t rest, because the devil drives them.”

Hector crossed himself.

Rocky rubbed his brass Buddha he always carried. He looked for serenity, but found none at the moment.

In the biting light Rocky saw the Humvee. “I see it, there’s the Humvee.” It had the Baja Police Seal on the door.

“Hector, can you drive that thing?”

“Yeah, Cruz put a Hurst four speed shift in it.” Hector made the motion of shifting a four-speed. “Four on the floor pal.”

“Okay, you get in and I’ll figure out how to get the big door open.”

“Holy shit,” Hector screamed.

Rocky turned and watched a macabre shadow appear in the lights. It’s skin flapped and hung loosely on its bones. Its face was skeletal and without hair, which covered the rest of its sinister body. One eye was a dark hole and the other carried a red glow. The creature held out a hand where flesh hung off the bones.

It spoke in hisses. “Do you want to become one of usss?”

Rocky and Hector stared at the thing. It was unlike anything either had ever seen. Other hominoid forms began to weave through the burning lights of the rumbling trucks.

They slowly came at Rocky and Hector screaming and choking in laughter.

Always Something…

WEDNESDAY AM

Always something. Wednesday morning. The call came at three thirty.

“Rocky, what the hey, sorry for the hour of my call.”

“Oh, I know,” Rocky yawned, “Cruz is out of toilet paper.”

“Noooo, it’s worse that that. El Camioneros Muertos have stolen some goods.”

“The gang that calls themselves the Dead Truckers?”

“They don’t just call themselves that. They are dead.”

“Where are you?” asked Rocky.

“Tuna Club, my place of business, where I watch my money.”

“Okay see you in an hour.” Rocky was a disabled Marine who had become a hitter for the CIA and some Mexican cartels. Captain Roberto Cruz ran the Mexicali cartel. Rocky was the go-to guy for his problems

 

Rocky and Hector drove on Mexico Highway 2, they were heading in the direction of Tijuana. They climbed the Rumorosa Mountains on what locals called The Whispering Highway.

“Where we going?” asked Rocky.

“It’s not far ahead.” Hector nodded.

Rocky slowed at a small village.

“Take the dirt road,” Hector suggested.

Rocky pulled off the highway and followed a rutted trail that wound up a mountain. Hector gestured, “Keep going.”

A stonewall built into the side of the mountain appeared. “Here we are, Rock.” In the wall was a large door with a human sized access in the lower left side. They pulled up to the entry and parked to the side of it. The huge entrance was large enough for an eighteen-wheeler Diesel truck.

“Who built this place,” Rocky asked.

“When we get out you’ll see,” said Hector.

Rocky stepped out and closed the truck’s door. He walked and crunched on human bones.

“This building killed them,” Hector mumbled, humbled by the surroundings. But they were already dead before they started.”

“This is worse than Afghanistan.”

“These people were born to die here.” Hector shook his head.

“We need to get inside,” said Rocky.

“Yeah, unfortunately.”

“What kind of vehicle did they take?” Rocky asked.

“A Humvee.”

“Better check my loads.” He pulled out his pistol and opened the cylinder.

“Why?” Asked Hector. “These guys are already dead.”

Behind the door they heard a Diesel start with a low staggering growl that turned into a roar.

“Sounds like there is some life in there,” Rocky growled.

“That Diesel is alive, but the driver is dead.” Hector hissed.

And they entered the unlocked door.

 

 

 

 

In the next few weeks I have taken up my first A-Z Blog Challenge. This challenge is to take each letter of the alphabet daily (except Sundays) and create a blog based on the letter of the day.
I will be creating a short story each day, most likely about our good “friend” Rocky.

These stories will be essentially flash fiction and not part of any novel that I have written thus far. I have reserved the right for the stories to be continuous but they may not be.

I invite you to come back every day and see what Rocky is up to as well as all the gang from the Tuna Club.

Remember: No matter how weird it can get, there is always some element of truth.

I write Pulp Fiction,
Wally

It’s stating the obvious to say these are strange and hard times. I’ve been driving the freeway and I know a lot of folks are working at home. If you are at home you’ll probably want a break to take your mind off things.

I took a break and read The Good Shepherd by C.S. Forester. It’s about a deeply religious US Navy Commander who is in charge of several escort destroyers protecting a convoy in the North Atlantic during WW2. The story is action, action, and action. The outward conflict takes place on the sea against German Submarines. Internal conflict also shows in Commander Krause who leads the destroyer escorts, and is the one man who has no combat experience. He wonders how he was selected to lead when younger subordinates have had long fighting experience. It’s worth the read just to find out how he grows into his position.

It’s a good story about a man who only wants to have his subordinates do well. It’s easy to see why Tom Hanks, who plays Commander Krause, has made the movie.
The Good Shepherd is a terrific read by a great author. When you get into Commander Krause’s mind his thinking may help you get through these times.

My names Wally Runnels and I write Border Pulp.

Stay Well.

ME-37OLDS copy

Would you like to meet Rocky? Feeling lucky?

Feeling lucky-wally 2

Get them all on Amazon now. Just 99 cents each on Kindle.

Thanks Brenna for this wonderful review!

Twisted Love
by Wally Runnels (Goodreads Author)

Brenna’s reviewFeb 15, 2020
Four stars-really liked it

Julietta is an archaeologist. Rocky is an ex-Marine turned hired killer. Set in Mexico, the stories of these 2 characters are, initially, separated. Eventually, the stories intersect, but not without a mix of the Mexican Drug Cartel, dirty cops, bloodshed, and the possibility of bringing forth some Aztec spirits.
Yes, the story has bloodshed. Yes, there are some gritty scenes in the book. Yes, there are prostitution and drug scenes in the book. The characters of Julietta and Rocky are well developed, passionate about what they do. Runnels works in a good twist or two of who is double-crossing who. Both Rocky and Julietta have a dark side, but both have heart, with a desire to get past the negativity in their world and move forward.
Twisted Love moves quickly and will keep your attention. I kept it with me in my car and at home so whenever I did sit and read, the book was right there.

***I received a copy of this from Wally Runnels.

Are you feeling lucky? Do you have your lucky shamrock near?

Welcome to author Wally Runnels’ St. Patrick’s Day Giveaway!
This giveaway is being co-hosted by Reading Author’s Network/Away We Go Media.

There will be two winners! Each will receive a $10 Amazon Gift Card and a signed copy of Wally Runnels latest book, Twisted Love


                                                                READ REVIEW HERE

About Wally Runnels:
Wally was born in San Diego, traveled through Mexico, and Latin America. He was
raised on the border at his family’s ranch, whose original deed was recorded in 1870.
Hanging out between two countries, he met a lot of unusual people: Hollywood types,
Border Patrol Officers, professional trackers, smugglers, and people he won’t mention
by name. He’ll remind you no matter how weird a story can get, it’ll contain some
grain of truth.

Disclosure: This giveaway is being sponsored by author Wally Runnels who is responsible for prize distribution. No other blog associated with this giveaway is responsible for the prizes. This giveaway begins March 12, 2020 @ 12 AM MST and ends March 26, 2020. This giveaway is an International Giveaway. TWO WINNERS will each receive a signed copy of Wally Runnels’ book, Twisted Love and a $10 Gift card from Amazon. Note: If the winner is outside the U.S. only a Kindle of the book can be given. Countries or territories that do not allow giveaways will be excluded. All entries will be verified and winners notified via email.You must enter both of the mandatory entries to be qualified. Winners must respond within 48 hours with complete mailing or forfeit their prize.

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In-Ko-Pah Spirit

The In-Ko-Pah Spirit Cover

A hired killer is paid to track and terminate a dangerous member of a Mexicali drug cartel.
The search leads to the In-Ko-Pah Mountains, an isolated region on the Mexican/American Border. The hunter and the hunted are soon forced to confront the threatening presence that inhabits the In-Ko-Pahs.

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I'm the author so this is not a review, but a description of my work.

Border Pulp, that’s what I call the stuff I write. Think of it as noir
in Spanglish, and in color. My protagonists and villains inhabit California/Baja border towns...




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