Conspiracy Ignited by Raymond Paul Johnson

Author:Raymond Paul Johnson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Amphorae Publishing Group, LLC
Published: 2024-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

That night, two bald men returned. Joshua heard their footsteps. They stopped beside him. One of them ripped the bag from his head, and he blinked against even the dim light. They yanked the stick from his mouth. Stuffed a rag in it. Then picked him up. Carried him outside. And threw him once again into the back of the truck. This time feet first. He landed on his ass, his head banging hard against the metal of the truck bed. The two walked around and piled into the back of the cab. The big man and another bald-headed guy were already in front. Joshua looked around. To his left, in the truck bed, sat a six-person inflatable on its side, with a 25-horsepower engine laid behind it. They took off. Windy, like falling from an airplane, thought Joshua. But at least, thank God, not the barn.

Then the truck stopped. Near a dark beach. Two of them carried Joshua. Loaded him into the boat, launched further into the waves and jumped in. The big guy steered. About a half mile out, they stopped. Tossed Joshua overboard. Then motored off.

Joshua, out of time and out of luck, had only two things going for him. First, while on the barn floor, he had loosened the ropes on his wrists and ankles. Second, he had been on the swim team at the University of Southern California. Before USC got around, that is, to expelling him, unfairly he felt, for allegedly cheating on exams. Putting those thoughts behind him, Joshua worked the ropes off. Spit out the rag. And swam for his life.

About thirty minutes after being dumped at sea, Joshua washed up on shore at a small tree-lined cove. Exhausted, he sprawled out and then blanked out on the rocky beach. When he awoke, just after sunrise, he saw two girls, jogging along the cliff line above. They spotted him. Said something to each other. Then dialed their cellphones.

Joshua concluded they were probably calling 911. With everything else shit, he sure as hell didn’t need cops. Joshua pulled himself up and crawled like a lizard into the nearby woods. Through a clearing, he saw buildings. And a sign. The UC Santa Barbara dormitories. No students around though. Probably sleeping off Friday night parties, thought Joshua.

He got up. Crossed a lawn and sneaked into the first dorm, through a back door. To his left, the students’ laundromat area. Again, no one around. But clothes spun slowly, over and over, in one of the dryers. Hopefully, men’s clothes. Pulling open the dryer door, he got his first break. He yanked out grey sweatpants, a blue UCSB hooded sweatshirt, and a pair of white canvas Sperry Docksiders. He quickly stripped, dressed in the stolen goods, and jammed his clothes into a trash bin. Then he made his way to the quadrangle. Lucky break two, he found a wall phone in this messed up world of cellular everything. Joshua smiled, picked up the phone, and dialed.

“What did you say?”

“Collect call for Ryan Stacey from Joshua Censkey,” the operator repeated.

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