Fans of my series’ (River and A Second Chance) may remember that I often claim that I don’t write the stories, my characters do. That is true for a lot of the story, but I do come up with ideas, sometimes months before the chapters will be written. Often these come as I am about to fall asleep, or have just woken, and seem to be like little movies about my characters. I have decided to present a series of these that are waiting for chapters that can use them, sort of like promos for upcoming TV shows, or trailers for future movies.

One of these will appear in the chapter after the next, and the last one will run at the (nearly) very end of the story. The others will be spaced in between (I am expecting at least 100 chapters for the saga, and possibly 120).

----- ----

Carly was a bit afraid sitting on the top of the roof. She was near the eaves, which were 25 feet in the air. Mikki, on the other hand, was fearless, and was all over the place. She had even sat near the steeple to get shots of the surrounding area. Carly was glad ‘second shooter’ status meant she could just park herself and take shots, like right now where she was filming Mikki jumping about on the peak.

The roofers had nailed Tyvek material to the roof, to separate the shingles from the underlying wood, in hopes of extending the life of the roof past the 30 years that the shingle manufacturer claimed. Tyvek is the white stuff that normally goes on the sides of a house before the brick or siding. It is shiny and slick on one side, and a bit rougher on the other. The shiny side goes up.

Although Carly didn’t notice it, Mikki had gotten something on one of her sneakers, and then stepped on a scrap of Tyvek that was laying upside down. What Carly did see through her viewfinder was Mikki starting to slide down the roof on one foot, going faster and faster. The last three feet of the roof did not have Tyvek, since tar paper would be nailed there, but that didn’t slow the girl down. Instead, she arced over the edge of the roof, with her hard hat flying to the left, and her expensive Nikon camera going to the right.

She had screamed all the way down the slide. Carly started to scream as Mikki neared the edge, and below Larissa started to scream as she saw Mikki flying through the air.

---- -- -- ------

Constable Steve lay on the ground near the porch as the man above fired round after round. Constable Velma Cierra was next to him, partially covered by him as the assault weapon fired round after round into the police cars on the street, shredding the SWAT van, and wreaking considerable damage to the other cars. The man with the gun needed to stop, and the sniper bullets from the SWAT sharpshooters seemed to be doing nothing. The man must have body armor on, even though such stuff was illegal in Canada. As was the assault weapon.

Steve counted rounds. It seemed there were 30 in a clip, and the man had many clips on him. But there was a few second delay while he changed clips. Steve listened until he heard the clicking that signified no bullets left, and rolled out onto the lawn, with his service revolver in position to shoot.

“Drop the weapon,” Steve yelled at the man, who glanced down at him. The man did seem to be armored, with a helmet covering all but his face, and numerous tears in the body armor where bullets had struck, but not penetrated. The man smiled as he clicked the clip into place.

“Drop the weapon,” Steve yelled again, but the man was just smiled as he turned his gun towards the policeman. Steve prayed that a single shot from his gun would overpower the 30 rounds that were coming, or else his recent marriage would be a short one.

---- -- ------- -----

Rachael smiled as she watched her mother coming down the aisle, slower than the traditional wedding march to keep pace with Grandpa, who leaned heavily on his adopted daughter’s arm. Bobby followed as ring-bearer, and little Danni, in a dress that might have cost more that Maria’s followed as flower girl.

Helen stood next to Rachael as Maid of Honor, while Pastor McNaughton stood with his Bible open to read the service. Rachael smiled as Grandpa handed Maria off to Geoff, and took his spot next to Grandma. The church was not full, especially compared to other weddings that had taken place there lately. And there was no Bride-side/Groom-side split. Nearly everyone there were friends to both of them, and there were no families. The ushers were from the Hobo Army, and almost all of them were at the service, either as guests or ushering.

Gary was there, with a huge smile on his face, with Alison and her children at his side. This was the lady who had given him rolls when he was homeless, and kept him fed. Next to his Angel, Rachael, she was the most important woman in his life, with the possible exception of the woman sitting with her hand on his lap.

---- -- --- -- -- -

Rachael sat atop Blacky, and guided him to the starting area.

“The pony ride is over, little girl,” said a sour-faced woman of about 45. “This race is for women, not little girls.”

“Now Doris,” a younger and friendly woman said. “Be nice. You aren’t afraid that the girl will beat you, are you?”

“Her? And that half-grown colt? Not likely,” Doris said with a sneer. “Just keep away from me, girlie.”

“Okay,” Rachael replied sweetly. “How far ahead of you should we stay? Ten lengths? Fifteen?”

All the other women laughed uncontrollably at Rachael’s comeback. All but Doris, who just fumed and swatted at her horse to move to the right, the shorter route to the first turn. Rachael just moved to the left, where there would be clear sailing for her stallion to run.

---- -- - ------ -

Racheal looked down at the Bowie knife stuck deeply into her abdomen. ‘That is in an awfully long way,’ she thought. Then the pain hit, and finally everything went black.

Robert was the first to the girl slumped on the floor. He yanked out the knife, and tossed it aside. Constable Steve was on top of the deranged man several feet away, trying to cuff him. Then little Bobby jumped in. He saw blood seeping through his sister’s dress, and tried to force his little hands in to stop it. Tears were in his eyes, when he first said: “Don’t. You. Die.”

Maria looked on at her children in horror. She heard Bobby, and thought, it worked once. She too started chanting: “Don’t. You. Die.” Pastor McNaughton was next to chant, and as he did he prayed that the Lord take him instead of this young girl.

When the EMTs got there, Rachael was still alive, but only barely. And to the amazement of the medical people, every soul in the room, save the one in cuffs, was chanting “Don’t. You. Die”. Maria got in the back of the ambulance with her daughter, and kept chanting all the way to the hospital.

The sound continued until the siren of the ambulance could be barely heard, and then it faded away.

“Come on Bobby, let’s get you cleaned up,” Pastor Helen said, taking over for his mother.

“NO!” Bobby shouted, looking at his bloody hands. “This is Rachael. It is all I have left of her. I will never wash it away.” Helen just enveloped the boy in her arms, without a worry about the blood on his shirt and pants. He didn’t hug back, not wanting to touch his hands to anything, but did sob deeply.

----- - ------ ----

Does the story end with Rachael dying, or in some other way? It is a long way until we get to that point, but it is an option, with her joining the Lord. We shall have to see.