I wanted to share part of the first chapter of my novel Treacherous Trust with you. I hope you enjoy it. If you would like to finish the book you can go to this site to get your own copy in ebook form:
http://www.amazon.com/Treacherous-Trust-Tropical-Skies-Book-ebook/dp/B00KRO9YU6/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1411862722&sr=8-1&keywords=treacherous+trust
CHAPTER 1
The
waters of the lagoon shimmered around Holly like smoked glass in the late
afternoon sun. Beyond the strand, nothing more than a narrow thread of sand and
coral, the Caribbean pounded, a constant roar in the otherwise tranquil
surroundings. As she sat motionless in the dugout it occurred to her how much
she was like this place. Outwardly, the world saw her as a tranquil, though
somewhat melancholy, person. They had no idea of the restless, relentless inner
tumult she felt.
Paddle
across her knees, she stared at the blueness beyond the strand. The sea and sky
met without any conflict of color, in perfect harmony. She knew she should have
been able to find peace and calmness in this place; yet it was not to be. She
closed her eyes and sighed at the hopelessness that filled her. More than two
years had passed and still she was unable to cope with what had happened.
Unable to understand why such tragedy had occurred in her life. Unable to put
it behind her, to overcome the feeling of guilt, and to get on with living. So
much horror in one brief moment; it had left her shattered and questioning the
faith that had once given her strength so long ago.
The
gentle current within the lagoon had pushed her towards shore and into the
shade of the mangroves that formed a canopy over the landward side of the
lagoon. Although the shade was pleasant and cool, the hum of mosquitoes was
not. Unwilling to be a meal for the hungry insects, she was readying her paddle
when she became aware of a new sound. She frowned, turned her head to the left,
feeling pressure against her eardrums. The air throbbed and she felt a deep
vibration in her chest. Startled, she glanced up and gasped as a blue
helicopter with black markings swept across the lagoon, barely skimming the
surface, the water ruffled by the vortex from its blades. The chopper careened
seaward and rose slightly before it turned landward again. Suddenly a second
helicopter, dark grey in color and much larger than the first, roared into
view. From the larger chopper the rattle
of gunfire stung the air, and ripped at the water. Bullets hammered the surface
of the lagoon less than a foot from her dugout and showered her with spray. The
blue helicopter swerved seaward as gunfire from the larger chopper peppered its
side. The blue helicopter spun around, away from the sea, trailing dark smoke.
The wind from its blades rattled the upper branches of the mangroves not one
hundred feet from Holly before crashing into the marshland beyond. She could
see the blades of the larger, grey helicopter through the treetops as it hung
in the throbbing air over the crash site for what seemed an eternity.
Renewed
gunfire rattled as a third helicopter, black in color, roared across the lagoon
from the sea. The larger helicopter returned fire for several seconds before it
rose into the air, swerved left and out to sea.
The third followed with continued gunfire. Holly gasped as she realized
she’d been holding her breath. Through the mangroves she saw smoke and realized
that the downed machine was close by. Every instinct told her that either or both
of the other helicopters would be back and she should put distance between
herself and this place. Yet she couldn´t go. Someone might still be alive. She
couldn´t just leave. No more deaths could be on her soul.
Holly
ignored the mosquitoes that now did more than hum and paddled toward a small
estuary that was hardly wider than the dugout.
She maneuvered between the mangrove roots using her paddle to push pass
and under low-hanging foliage as she worked her way deeper within the canopy to
strike solid, though spongy ground. She climbed out into ankle-deep water,
carefully tied the dugout to a protruding root, and headed into the swamp. A
nearby caiman watched her with wicked yellow eyes as it displayed rows of
teeth. She sighed with relief when it slapped the water with its tail and sank
beneath the surface. Several others sank quietly without a ripple beneath the
surface of the water. Glancing nervously
around, she plunged deeper into the undergrowth toward the smoke.
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HAPPY READING!
