Turning The Knives 6

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“Michael,” a voice cried.

“Michael!” It was strangely familiar.

“For god’s sake Michael, snap out of it.” There was a loud screeching sound.

Michael’s eyes jolted open. The policeman’s body hung limply against his shoulder, dripping blood down his collar. Suddenly, the illusion of death vanished. In shock, Michael flung the policeman onto the tarmac. The ute screeched to a halt in front of him.

“Come on,” Nigel screamed. He glanced around with urgency on his face.

Michael bunged the fuel cap back in not bothering to lock it. He flung his door open and shoved the key in the ignition. The car started up, and he nodded to Nigel to go. The ute began moving, and he saw his twin sister in the back holding the gun as they passed. She’d saved his life.

Michael left a scraping of rubber on the ground as his car screamed back onto the road. He cut straight across the traffic, sending a motorcyclist crashing into a light post. Down the hill, one hundred metres ahead was the Denmark Bridge. He covered the distance in a few seconds.

The two cars followed a wild course, screeching from left to right, avoiding the throng of cars. Horns beeped and people shouted obscenities at them. Nigel smashed past the front of a smaller car. Michael had to swerve to avoid the angry occupant’s door as it swung open. Sirens blared out from behind as the cops zoomed past the fuel station.

Once they were off the bridge, Michael managed to regain control of his car. He reached for the two-way. His hand was trembling violently from the close brush with death, and he realised he could barely remember anything since the gunshot. He’d been running on adrenaline autopilot.

“Dad,” he spoke into the transceiver.

“Shh,” came Nigel’s reply. “They’ll be listening in on us. Follow me and don’t use the radio.”

Michael wriggled his fingers on the steering wheel to make sure he was in full control again. Dripping trees lined both sides of the road now. They cut through the night, past the school. Something told him he wouldn’t see it again, which he would have considered good news in any other context. In only a matter of seconds, his school was behind him, his town was behind him, his life was behind him.

They shot past the golf course and turned off the Albany highway and onto the Mt. Barker Road. They crested a hill, then dipped into a valley and were out of sight of the main road. This was no reason to stop though. It was a reason to floor the accelerator. No doubt the region would soon be on high alert.

Michael glanced down at the speedometer. It was maxed out at 140, yet the Hilux still kept getting further ahead. He moved to contact his father, but then stopped himself. “They’ll be listening in on us,” Nigel’s words ran through his head. And he wondered just how much that was true. With the technology the government had, they could probably track them with radars or something. He felt like an ant vainly biting a human; there was no way he’d get out alive.


Michael felt his head slowly lower towards the steering wheel. The scrub around him seemed to melt into one big blur. His eyelids drooped, and it seemed as if the world was an illusion.

Jolt! Michael’s mind sprang back to consciousness. He was flung forwards against his seatbelt as the car landed back on the side of the road. He swerved back onto the road, and looked in the rear vision mirrors. Whatever he’d hit had been swallowed up by darkness.

Michael tried to think what time it was. The clock in his car was broken when he’d got it. Whatever the time was, he’d been driving for hours, and couldn’t stay awake. He flashed his hazard lights, and pulled onto the roadside. The Hilux stopped in front of him.

“What,” said Michael. Nigel was outside his car and the door was open.

“Need a break?” said Nigel.

“Huh,” said Michael. Then he realised. He’d fallen asleep just after he’d stopped. “Yeah.”

“There’s a few hours left until morning. We should probably make as much distance as we can while it’s dark. You can’t drive though.” Nigel gave a weak laugh.

“I’ll drive,” said Gaea’s voice behind him. Michael hadn’t even noticed his sister there before.

“Fair enough,” said Nigel. “Up you get Mike.”

Michael barely managed to get himself out of the car. Only then did he realise that it wasn’t raining anymore. His windscreen wipers screeched against the dry glass. With one hand on the car’s body, he slowly dragged his feet around to the passenger seat.

“How’s the fuel?” said Nigel.

“Dunno,” came Michael’s slurred reply as he clasped his seatbelt.

“I’ll fill her up,” said Gaea. “Been driving for five hours so it’s bound to be near empty.” Michael heard the boot open and the sound of jangling keys. He slumped forward and bashed his head on the dashboard. It woke him again, but only for a few seconds.

The next thing Michael knew was that he desperately needed to pee. He glanced around in the dim light. He didn’t recognise where they were. Low scrub, barely taller than him was spread sparsely around them. Gaea was snoring like a truckie in the drivers seat. He quietly opened the door and stepped out onto the sandy ground. The white Hilux stood out like a beacon in the darkness.

Michael walked over to a bush, the sand crunching underneath him. As he unzipped his fly, he glanced skyward. Black clouds loomed overhead. The cold desert air raised goosebumps on his arms. He breathed an audible sigh of relief.

Crack. Michael jumped. Thunder roared overhead. A bolt of lightning flashed behind the bushes.

“You should have seen yourself,” said Gaea’s voice from behind.

Michael forced a weak laugh. It certainly wasn’t funny to him. “Have a good sleep?”

“I have to say, your car isn’t exactly comfortable. I can’t feel my butt anymore,” said Gaea. “Still, at least I didn’t brain myself on the dash.”

Michael zipped back up, then felt his forehead. A big lump had formed. He couldn’t remember any pain when he’d hit his head; he was that tired. “How long was I asleep?”

Gaea looked at her watch. “Three hours.”

“What about you?”

“One, but I fell asleep in the car before I started driving for you. I’ve had plenty.”

Michael felt a raindrop. He looked up, just as there was another thunderclap. “We took the weather with us.”

“Shit,” said Gaea. “This ground ‘l turn into a shag. We need to get going.” She dashed to the Hilux and flung the door open. “Wake up. It’s raining, we’ve got to go.”

There were a few grumbles from within the ute, followed by a “shit,” from Nigel.

Gaea dashed back to the Sierra and climbed into the drivers seat. “Help yourself,” said Michael, as he took the passenger seat. The drizzle turned to torrents as soon as the door slammed shut.
Q: Where do you go to buy shoes?

A: At the shoez canal, lol.




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Wow, this is really good! I love how right at first the action keeps me on the edge of my seat. The story is really fast pace and leaves me with all kinds of questions. Like- Why was Michael carring a dead policeman?? Or why are they seemingly against the goverment?? Anyway just a tip don't go to long without answering a few questions. You're story comes out very nice with you're MC emotions flowing really well, I could almost feel my own eyelids becoming heavier as he fought to stay awake. I can't really tell to much about the plot but I'd bet it's a really cool one!
Nicely done.
Keira




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I don't have time for a full length review but I just had to say that this is a really great piece. There's a ton of action and realistic emotion and I can't wait to hear what happens next. Keep writing!
-Meggy86




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Michael’s eyes jolted open. The policeman’s body hung limply against his shoulder, dripping blood down his collar. Suddenly, the illusion of death vanished.

Very, VERY well put. Loved it.

He cut straight across the traffic, sending a motorcyclist crashing into a light post.

Somehow I find this a bit too aggressive, like they've suddenly become relentless criminals. "Hey, we're already being chased by the government, why not run into a few motorcyclists to top it off?" I hope you're following me. Although, I'm a bit torn, since they ARE being chased, so it might just be part of the panic and as you mention later, ADRENALINE AUTO PILOT (Excellent phrase by the way)

Michael barely managed to get himself out of the car. Only then did he realise that it wasn’t raining anymore.

I haven't noticed before, but you use the word "realise" very often. Maybe alternate it with "notice" or "discover"? Just a suggestion.

“This ground ‘l turn into a shag. We need to get going.”

I'm not sure what you mean by this. It might be that I'm not used to seeing this word.

I liked this chapter very much, it was very well written and you get to know the characters even more. I'm very excited about it, and am looking forward to the next part!
"SHAMAN" is a action/adventure fiction novel I'm writing, following the adventures of Marcus Lee. Marcus finds a book with a peculiar symbol engraved on the cover. As Marcus digs deeper into the mysteries of the book, he learns about controlled reincarnation.




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Hectic metric
This is probably more of a literary curio but you mention in part of the prose that he's driving his truck at 140. Due to the fact that the Hilux tops out at 170 km/h (about 105 mph) its physically impossible for this to be a metric figure out of a stock engine. The fact that the story takes place in Australia solidifies the decimal system theory. The problem is, an American reader might get tripped up over these figures. Make sure you provide things like km/h, meters, and kilograms for figures, it tidies this stuff up.

bad ass sister?
So his sister shoots someone and just kinda shakes it off? Either she's taken human lives before or she is just hard as hell. It seemed like a very unemotional reaction to what should be a very emotional action. It doesn't seem to stick with her the way I'd think that it would.

Jolt! Michael’s mind sprang back to consciousness. He was flung forwards against his seatbelt as the car landed back on the side of the road. He swerved back onto the road, and looked in the rear vision mirrors. Whatever he’d hit had been swallowed up by darkness.


Either ax that 'Jolt!' or italicize the word jolt if you want to emphasize it's an action. The way it's written is kinda immature.

Other than that, the quality is as good as always. The last couple chapters beg the question of where exactly they're driving to, but that's the intrigue I guess. Good story!

-Pattycakes



Only the suppressed word is dangerous.
— Ludwig Borne