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Reading books fiction Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself.



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Read books online » Fiction » THE RUNNER/SCREENPLAY by BRIAN R. LUNDIN (best free ebook reader for android .txt) 📖

Book online «THE RUNNER/SCREENPLAY by BRIAN R. LUNDIN (best free ebook reader for android .txt) 📖». Author BRIAN R. LUNDIN



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twenty other men will be positioned in the jungle surrounding the village, again to block any escape and another twenty men will raid the mountain lab and twenty men will conduct the actual raid on the village, when given the signal by me, a long whistle blast, they will then burn the fields and kill everyone.

What Al didn’t know that the Colombians had an informer in the group and he notified Phillippe and gave him the entire plan. Pops, Cinque and Marque returned to Chicago and started receiving the heroin from the Colombians. The drug-starved junkies immediately recognized the quality of the heroin, the high was more intense and there were no adverse side effect.

Phillippe told Zuba who got the information to Pops told Jerome McLemore.
Jerome told Marque and Madame Bourneis about the plan to kill the villagers. It was a warm humid night, the air was thin and the vegetation dense when Al and his 200 men arrived at the seemingly sleeping village. The men took their assigned positions and awaited Al signal. Al joined the men in the jungle and watched the village. Smoke was coming out of the straw huts and the soft and happy voices of men sitting around a blazing fire drifted up to him. This is going to be easy, Al thought; he did not know how wrong he was. Pops, Cinque and two hundred Simbas had arrived two days earlier and Phillippe and another three hundred of his men had arrived the following day. Fifty Simbas and fifty of Phillippe men moved the women, children and older villagers to the mountain lab. The Simbas had taken up positions in the jungle while Philippe’s men had taken up positions on each side of the dirt road. Cinque high in a large bamboo tree was ready with his bow and arrows. Al blew one long blast on his whistle and watched as 100 of his men assigned to storm the village, started running howling and screaming. All of a sudden, he saw one man fall, a long steel arrow protruding from his neck, then another man fell an arrow was lodged in his right eye. Al was in shock as he watched his men running towards the village cut down by automatic machine gun fire. Al desperately signaled the men on the dirt road to attack. The fifty men on the road sprinted towards the village. Al Hernandez watched in horror as automatic gunfire slaughtered his men. Suddenly, the dense jungle where Hernandez was watching came under fire. Trees erupted in flames, as bullets sprayed the area. Three steel arrows killed three men standing besides Al when one of the men fell he knocked Al down, Al pulled two of the dead men over him. As he looked out from under the body of the men, he saw the carnage. His men were being cut down on all sides and just as the quickly the shooting stopped and he saw the villagers rushing towards his men with long knives. They started hacking and slashing his men, wounded included. The cries of the dying men anguish and pain echoed through the night air. After butchering the intruders, Al watched as the villagers built a large fire that lit up the night, he watched in horror as his men, some still alive were tossed into its blazing flames. The villagers were singing and dancing as Al watched from under his dead comrades. The mosquitoes were fierce, stinging Al all over his body. Red whelps appeared on his legs, face and arms but Roberto resisted the urge to scratch, he watched and waited. The dead men covering Al had begun to smell and he felt nauseous, but he lay still, waiting. One hour-two hour, passed before the celebration in the village quieted down. The raging fire had simmered into a small blaze but the smell of burned human flesh filled the air. Al waited until the villagers had returned to their huts. He waited an hour before he slowly crawled out from under the men. He crawled about fifty feet into the dense dark jungle before he rose to his feet. Al started slowly walking into the jungle and ducking behind the large bamboo trees at the slightest sound. As he continued walking, he suddenly realized he was lost and did not have his glasses. He cussed himself for not paying more attention when they were coming. After an hour of wandering, Al was tired, thirsty and hungry.
The first rays of the sun started to break through the jungle’s canopy, casting an eerie light upon the trees. Al decided to sit down on a rotting log, relax and figure a way to get out of this mess as he fought off the ever buzzing and biting mosquitoes. He listened to the songs of the tree birds scampering around and seemingly mocking him. In the distant he heard the deep growls of wild animals searching for prey before the sun made its appearance. Al heart began to beat faster as the sweat poured into his eyes. There was another animal sound and fear started to invade his consciousness. Al pulled his .357 magnum, jumped off the log and shouted into the jungle.

AL
Me got something for your asses.

Unconvincingly AL looked around but everything looked the same, nothing but large green trees.

AL
Shit!
Al mumbled as he looked at the red whelps on his arms and legs.

Fuckin’ mosquitoes!

He sat back down on the log and rubbed his legs and arms.

Me will just cool out until the sun comes up and walk back to the village and pretend like I was one of the other men who helped them, yeah, that are what me will do.

Al felt a cool breeze and felt refreshed. Even before the sun came out in the dark jungle the temperature was 80 degrees. Al saw a shadow in the trees. He got up from the log and pointed his weapon towards the shadow. Without his doubled bifocal lens glasses he could not make out what the shadow was although it looked too tall to be an animal maybe it was one of the villagers he hoped. When, the shadow got closer he squinted his eyes and saw it was a woman, with his hopes restored he started running towards the figure. When he got close to her, he saw that she was nude; her long black hair was nestled between her full brown breasts. The woman was tall, had an athletic body, tiny waist and well-muscled legs. She was walking slowly toward him and he noticed how beautiful she was. Al wanted to take her now but he could wait until she led him out of this mosquito infested forest, then she would be his and he would take her to Mexico, by force, if necessary. Relieved and feeling much better he started walking towards the woman who was smiling.

AL
Senorena

Roberto smiled showing his stained teeth.

Suddenly, the beautiful woman transformed into a huge black panther. Al let out a weak cry and fired three shots at the beast as it lunged at him and bit off his head.

Vito and the other members of the Combine heard about the fiasco in the village and Vito was livid.

INT. VITO’S OFFICE-MORNING

VITO
Shit, shit, fuck, what the fuck is going on, and a million bucks down the fucking drain.

Jimmy poured a glass of martini and handed it to Vito. Vito took a big gulp.

That’s some bad shit, and only one of Al’s guys escaped and he said that he saw Roberto being eaten by a Goddamn animal.

Jimmy took a sip of his drink.

JIMMY
Them Nigras got some motherfucka’ devil angel watching over their black asses, what we’re going to do next boss?

VITO
I’m going to hit all those little Nigras first, and then I’m going to hit that asshole McLemore.

JIMMY
Better think that over boss, that might get Vinnie ass up tight.

VITO
Fuck Vinnie, I’m tired of his shit anyway,

Vito gulped down the rest of his drink. Jimmy did not say anything else, he could tell that Vito was in one of his irrational moods; he only hoped that he would not do anything stupid.

JIMMY
What you got in mind Boss?

VITO
We’re going to kill two Nigras, one of McLemore’s people and one of those young niggers.

JIMMY
But Boss, you know that going to cause problems with Vinnie.

VITO
Fuck that pimp I don’t give a fuck you with me or agin me?

JIMMY
You know I’m with you, Boss.

Jimmy had his head down.

VITO
Good now this is how we’re going to work it.

The hot afternoon summer sun momentarily, blinded Edwina Johnson as she walked east on 43rd Street. She had just left the Jewish owned grocery store under the elevator and was thinking about the dinner she was going to prepare for Jerome, his mother and his wife. She had purchased 2 pounds of turnips, collars and mustards greens, five plump sweet potatoes, a pound of salt pork and ham hocks and a nice pot roast; she would also make a pan of macaroni with a lot of cheese and cornbread. Jerome’s mother Harriet was making an apple cobbler for desert and knowing Jerome, he would probably bring an expensive white wine. Edwina was deep in thought and did not notice the black car that had been following her from the store. When she turned the corner going south on Prairie Avenue the car pulled to the curb and two men grabbed her from behind, knocking the shopping bags that she was holding in each hand to the ground, as the contents from the bag spilled on the ground she was stuck on the head and went limp. The men pushed her into the backseat of the vehicle, bound her hand and sped south on Prairie. A wino that Edwinna had often fed saw what happened and had the presence of mind to remember the license plate number of the car and record it on one of the bags with a snubbed nose pencil he found in the alley.

Bobby Randall had just started his day and already he had sold over $500.00 worth of heroin at his new drug spot under the 47th Street elevator station. His spotter, William was in the alley waiting for the sign from Bobby of a sell. William watched the two black men that he recognized as customers approach Bobby and without saying anything, they grabbed him, just as a black vehicle pulled into the curb and pushed Bobby into the back seat. William watched as the men in the car fired two shots in the air, causing everyone on the street to duck and hide behind cars and buildings. The vehicle headed east on 47th Street. William immediately began running west on 47th Street towards the Robert Taylor Homes, home of the State Street Boys.

INT. VITO’S OFFICE

Tommy Mascino entered.

TOMMY
We got both of them niggers, boss!

VITO
Good work, Tommy.
When Edwinna Johnson regained consciousness, her arms and hands hurt. They were tightly tied behind her back with nylon ropes and there was tape over her mouth. The room was dark, musty and the odor of garlic came from another room. An Italian song was playing softly and she heard men talking. She heard footsteps and the door opened. Standing in the door was a large man, over six feet tall and heavy. He wore a red and white apron and was holding a wooden spoon dripping with red sauce. The man walked over to
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