One Drama After Another

“Sometimes life just loves to heap manure on you right after dropping mud on you from a great height. Thanks can only get better right?”

I wrote this story for the following prompts.
Sadje’s What Do You See – Image credit; Carter Saunders @ Undplash
Ragtag Daily Prompt — Rhetoric
Pensitivity’s Three Things Challenge — Grin – Frown – Wrinkle
Word of the Day Challenge — Breaking
Your Daily Word — Spoor
Fandango’s One Word Challenge — Rotund

One Drama After Another

“This’ll do, Rusty.” Ed nodded beyond his swishing window wipers to the red ‘Vacancy’ sign on the motel wall. Then looked in his rear-view mirror. “Told you we’d find a place.”

Rusty gave a small bark in answer. He was a rotund golden retriever. Perched on the back seat with his tongue out, he gave a doggy grin.

“Ha! Yes, I’m sure they’ll have a steak for you too.” Ed’s eyes flicked to the suitcases in the boot behind the dog and he couldn’t help but frown and sigh.

Just hours ago he’d grown tired of his wife’s usual rhetoric about who did what around the house. He couldn’t even watch an entire TV show or go down the pub one night a week without breaking Angela’s rules. Even Rusty got nagged for leaving his fur and spoor about the house. Like he could do anything about it.

Today he had enough. He told Angela too. She never replied, she simply picked up his suitcases and handed them to him.

So now here he was looking for a motel to spend the night in. At least the weather was being sympathetic. The heavy rain seemed to be nature’s sadness for him losing his home.

Clicking on his indicator, he steered his old Ford Fiesta Zetec through a large puddle and into the potholed car park. There were few cars about indicating the place was quiet. He reversed in beside a black van close to the reception door.

“Right, you stay here, Pal. I’ll see if I can procure us a room.” Ed stepped into the rain and groaned.

Rusty barked his disapproval and laid down with his chin on his paws.

“Yeah, no kidding! It’s a miserable night.” Ed closed his door and dashed to the dully lit reception. He glanced at the ‘Vacancy’ sign glowing red in the rain. ‘Even an empty motel has less vacancy than the hole in my heart,’ he thought as he pushed through the glass door daubed with circus posters. At once he noticed the bell above was hanging off as he dripped inside. ‘Not a good start for a fine establishment,’ he thought.

Reaching the dirty white-fronted counter, he looked about but could see no sign of anyone. There was no bell here, and with the doorbell broken how was he supposed to summon somebody.

“Hello!” he called.

Only the heavy patter of rain on the windows answered back.

A yawn escaped him and he rubbed his forehead. The lines gave an impression of one big wrinkle. “Bloody hell, what a mess!” He murmured before calling for help again.

The silence pressed upon his shoulders, broken only by Rusty barking twice and then falling silent.

“That’s it you go quiet, Pal,” Noticing the office door behind the desk was open ajar, he decided to investigate.

Coming around the counter, he noted the twenty-year-old proof of sale system computer and line of keys hooks beneath. Considering the motel was supposed to have vacancies, there were no keys here, only a single empty key ring.

“Perhaps they store them elsewhere for security these days,” he mused as he arrived at the office door. It was there the smell of iron assaulted his nostrils – blood — he’d know that smell anywhere.

“Hello! I’m Ed, I’m an off-duty paramedic. You need help!” he called although instinct told him something was deadly wrong around here.

Pushing through the door, he never saw the shadow pass across the glass entranceway.

Ed gasped as he took in the wrecked office. Paperwork had been tossed everywhere, desk drawers thrown askance on the floor, both the computer and an old TV were smashed. Amid them lay a man in jeans and a white T-shirt. Blood had pooled around his balding head.

“Looks like today’s going to be one drama after another!” Ed dropped to his knees as he pulled his phone from his pocket. Dialling 999, he engaged the speaker and dumped it on the desk. “Sir, can you hear me?”

“Hello, you called the emergency services how can we help?” answered a female voice on the phone.

“Hi, I’m paramedic Ed Galloway. I need an ambulance at the —” Ed groaned as he eased the man into the recovery position, “Oh, shit …” He uttered — the man was a stabbing victim.

“Sir, state your emergency please,” asked the dispatcher.

“I’m at the —”

A leather boot connected with the back of Ed’s head.

He pitched forward over the unconscious man and crashed into the swivel chairs. Feeling like his head was split in half, he lay watching the room spin around him. A shadowy figure disconnected the phone call and pocketed Ed’s phone.

“Pity ya came in here. Now ya have to bleedin’ die as well.”

“What!” Ed rolled onto his hands and knees. “Nobody has to die. You haven’t killed anybody yet.”

“He’ll be dead soon —” A car door opened and closed loudly. The man put his head out of the office door. “— enough,” he finished.

“But he doesn’t need to. You don’t need life in prison for murder either. I’m a paramedic let me help him.” Ed pleaded.

“Nah. Then ya’ll both be able to identify me.” The man stepped forward. Reeking of alcohol and with four days’ worth of stubble spiking his scarred chin, he held a menacing figure.

“Stop! See sense —Aargh!” Ed finished with a fearful cry as the attacker lunged.

Grabbing Ed’s scruff, he hauled him to his feet.

Ed watched him draw an evil, curved blade known as a Kukri. Designed for stabbing around armour, this was a knife built solely for death. “Don’t!” He warned.

“And what if I do? Can’t do much …” Both men heard a clicking sound and glanced at the door “… with ya entrails spread all over the floor now, can ya?”

“Urgh, you’ve been watching too many horror shows!” Ed stated, hiding a grin from knowing what the clicking was. “Now put me down, and dropped that bloody knife!”

“Nah, I like usin’ my baby.” The man raised the knife.

Ed would have flinched if he hadn’t seen the nose.

The blade slashed toward his neck.

Rusty leapt onto the desk and threw himself into the air. Forty-five kilos of fur, teeth, and claws slammed into the man’s back.

Ed rolled beneath the knife.

“What the faaaaa—” the man screamed as he pitched off his feet, bashed his head on the desk and crumpled to the floor.

“Thanks, Pal,” Ed said patting his soft head.

Rusty looked pleased with himself; sitting on the man’s back with his teeth inches from his neck. Nobody hurt his best friend without him having something to say about it. “Ruff!” He said with his doggy grin stretching from ear to ear.

Ed swiftly removed the knife from harm’s way and again called the police and paramedics.

The hotelier was barely alive when he was carted off to the hospital. His attacker concussed and bleeding from a collection of claw marks down his back; shouted his innocence. He was dragged into the police detention van threatening lawsuit over the dog roughly apprehending him and promising to kill him and Ed.

Rusty followed, growling at him the whole way. He barked happily as the van doors slam shut on the criminal. The officers made a fuss of him and then he returned to Ed’s side.

“Well, I’m glad that’s over, Pal.” He said scratching his ear. “The only problem is we’ll have to go find another bloody hotel now!”

The End

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Don’t forget Holly Ward investigates, Stolen Treasures is out on Amazon now!

A recent bank robbery. A saddened man. A coded message. Can they all be connected?
Young Sleuth Holly Ward is determined to help the man. It’s not long before she too comes under assault from a group of dangerous individuals. In the face of intimidation, abduction and even murder can Holly solve the clues and catch the criminals before she becomes the next Stolen Treasure?

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Thanks for reading my friends.

There’s more in the Poetry Corner, Poetry Nook, and the Short Story Collection

Have a great day!