Friday 6 July 2018

THE FUGITIVES (also not done)

CHAPTER ONE


Arizona, 1995, Tuesday


“Damn, Bill.” Said Kevin, as Bill zipped open a black duffle bag full of guns. “Wadda ya gonna do ‘widall a
these?” “Well, my friend...” said Bill, in a fairly evil genius like accent. “We, are going on a trip.”

A black van with “BILL ‘N KEVIN’S GARAGE REPAIR” scrawled on the side was parked in the gravel
driveway. Bill said that the writing on the side would “Keep out unwanted visitors” what that meant, we
were just about to find out. Kevin was bobbing about in his car seat like a soccer ball with a fully
automatic machine gun and more than 5 multiple military grade gun attachments. Such as a custom
made stock that Bill bought off the black market, and a bright red laser sight capable of temporarily
blinding a deer before the high powered rounds the gun was stuffed with turned its frontal lobe into
mincemeat. They came off the highway and down a long stretch of road.

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