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Joe Sargent is a Computer Programmer by day, Writer by night whose published works have appeared on Shine: A Place for Writers and Associated Content.
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Background
Information
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I enjoy all types of fiction writing but favorites include technological thrillers, action pulp, suspense and science fiction. I Enjoy early works by Stephen King and Michael Crichton.
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Favorite Links
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My Books
Clic the 'My Books' link above for more.
Amanda glided in and out of the early
morning mist as if she were hovering off the ground. Her tempo, fast by most standards, was casual for her.
Her jogging shoes made almost no sound as they floated over the wooded trail and her visible breath shot forth in rhythmic intervals coinciding with her
footfalls.
Twenty-three and extremely fit, Amanda relished in keeping herself in shape. She wore an off-white thermal jogging suit that covered her whole body. The hood was up, hiding her shoulder length brown hair.
She made her way down the route, breaking through the fog, then disappearing like a ghost. This was just the way she liked it. As she came to a sharp bend in the trail, she repositioned her stance to take her up
the hill on the other side. Her speed
increased in anticipation.
The man stood crouched behind the
trees to the left of the trail. His hands were cold and the ground around him littered with cigarettes. He knew her routine well and a smile found its way through the deep scars of his face as he saw her. He waited like a lion stalking a gazelle.
Amanda's rhythm slowed. She thought she noticed something move in the brush up the path but only for a moment. She regained her speed after scanning the foggy trail ahead. Was it possibly her imagination?
The man shot from the brush just as
she reached him. Amanda darted to the side letting the momentum of his lunge carry him across the trail to a crashing thud on the other side. He spun around and looked up at her; the knife in his hand aimed at his prize.
He heard the whisper as their eyes met. A sound not unlike a quick burst of wind in the face. He fell back to the ground and felt the warmth engulf his chest. His hand dropped the knife and searched for the source of the heat. He brought it back up to
his face a crimson red.
Amanda dropped the hood never taking her eyes off him.
"You're not her." he gasped.
Amanda pulled the cell phone from
her jumpsuit pocket and pre-dialed a
number. She kept the silencer barrel of the gun locked on him.
"Lisa, It's me. You won't have to run
anymore. It's all taken care of."
She flipped the phone closed and
squeezed the trigger of her berretta.
Pulling her hood back up, she made her way down the trail and disappeared into the mist, like a ghost.
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