Friday, August 7, 2009

TAG TEAM 3: KNUNCKLE CITY by SARAH L. COLTER

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Lomian, Kerry and Chad take a badly beaten man to the hospital, a man who told them that his injuries are the result of a fight in a nightclub called 'Knuckle City'. They learn that Knuckle City has been under investigation for a number of years for various criminal activities, but federal agents have never been able to obtain evidence to arrest the owner, Otto Chintz.
Lomian and Kerry are elected to go to the club and try to find that evidence. Will Lomain be able to do his duty, and survive to tell the tale?

Excerpt

About Tag Team 3: Knuckle City

by Sarah Colter
33 pages / 12500 words
ISBN: 978-1-60370-647-6, 1-60370-647-X
Available file types - html, lit, pdf, prc

Lomian, Kerry and Chad take a badly beaten man to the hospital, a man who told them that his injuries are the result of a fight in a nightclub called 'Knuckle City'. They learn that Knuckle City has been under investigation for a number of years for various criminal activities, but federal agents have never been able to obtain evidence to arrest the owner, OttoChintz.

Lomian and Kerry are elected to go to the club and try to find that evidence. Will Lomain be able to do his duty, and survive to tell the tale?

Sample

August, 2000

A tropical storm was in the process of wreaking havoc on the Gulf of Mexico. As a result, southern Alabama was in the throes of a violent thunderstorm. Driving back from Montgomery, three wrestlers were assaulted by strong gusts of wind, pouring rain, earsplitting thunder, and frequent jagged bolts of lightning. ‘Big Bad’ Chad Baker and his two passengers muttered complaints of exhaustion and disappointment at the end of a long, wasted day.

They’d started out early, having left Mobile before noon, and had arrived in Montgomery an hour before the special exhibition wrestling show started at the annual Alabama National Fair. During the outdoor show, it had begun to rain, and relentlessly lashing drops had pelted the wrestlers as they performed. At first, a few of the diehard fans had remained, covered their heads with whatever articles of clothing or accessories they happened to have on hand, and tolerated the weather, but most ran for cover. After Chad’s match, when hail the size of golf balls volleyed down on them, the people scattered. The show was cut short and all outside events were closed for the day. The tag team match, which had been billed as the main event, had been cancelled. Lomian felt cheated. In their joint career so far, he and Kerry had been in only two main event matches, and had accepted the loss both times. They had been slated to win at the fairgrounds.

Kerry ‘Sunshine’ Sutton sprawled languidly in the passenger’s seat, seemingly lulled to silence by the rhythm of the windshield wipers. In the backseat, not so tranquil, Lomian Sanders was counting down the markers. I-65 South was a long, long road, but was well maintained. “We just passed up the Docker exit,” he announced. “Twenty more miles to Mobile. Almost there, Bad.”

“Praise the Lord,” Chad remarked. “I’m wound up so tight you could use me as a top!”

“We do use you as a top,” Lomian quipped, giving Chad a sexy grin.

Chad winked at him in the rearview mirror. “I doubt I’ll be worth very much to you by the time I drag my tired ass in the door tonight,” Chad told him. “All I want to do is pass the hell out for a few hours.”

“Me, too,” Lomian agreed, yawning. In a flash of lightning, he spotted a shadowy figure plodding along the shoulder of the highway. “Look!” He pointed at the pedestrian, and all three men stared.

“Why would anybody be out in this shit?” Chad asked. “Walking on the interstate in the pouring-ass rain? What the fuck?”

Just as the headlights illuminated the soggy walker’s back, he stumbled and fell to his hands and knees. “Shit! Drunk, drugged, shot or zombie,” Chad groaned as he slowed the car and pulled to the shoulder of the road ahead of the fallen man. “I’ve got to go to check on him.”

“I’ll come with you,” Lomian offered, but Chad held up a hand.

“No sense in us both getting out in this goose-drowner. Be right back.”

Kerry’s anxious blue eyes shone in the next flash. “Be careful, Chad,” he said.

Chad’s dark hand reached out to cup Kerry’s cheek. “Don’t worry, babe. I will.” He made a mad dash off in the pouring rain. Lomian peered out the back window, but couldn’t see anything through the dense fog and rain. He could feel Kerry’s apprehension, and when sufficient time had passed, he began to share it. “What’s taking him so long?”

Suddenly, a strange, wet face appeared in the back door’s window. Startled, Lomian lurched away, but when Chad’s countenance joined the stranger’s, Lomian scurried across the seat to open the door. Reaching to assist the sagging hitchhiker into the seat beside him, Lomian refrained from asking questions until Chad was also inside the car. As Chad closed the back door, slid in behind the wheel, and buckled his seatbelt again, their rescued rider’s face was shown to them in another bright flash of lightning.

His face had been beaten to a bloody pulp.

“Oh my God,” Kerry cried out. “What happened to him?”

Lomian had ever seen anyone so badly injured, and he knew that Kerry was even more shocked than him at the gory sight.

After a short coughing fit, the abused man spoke up in explanation. “Knuckle City happened to me.”

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