The Foretelling: A Journey to Truth by Marc Abbott

Author:Marc Abbott
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Thriller
Published: 2012-07-15T23:00:00+00:00

the following afternoon Judy found herself in a cheap motel. Again she wasn’t really sure where she had been taken too, and try as she might to work it out on the journey there in the car, none of the road signs gave her a single clue. She was still in a state of numbness and only vaguely remembered being wakened at around seven by a guard bashing his baton against the bars.

“Wake up, sister! You’s goin’ for a little ride!”

At that, another voice was heard. An overweight officer, she thought she remembered his name as Donovan, came along the corridor.

“Sergeant Drewery! What the hell do ya think you’re doin’?. That bitch ain’t goin’ no place. She’s a number one suspect on my list o’ trouble makers round here. Now you put them keys away and let me handle this.”

Judy was becoming more and more allergic to the southern accent that everyone seemed to over use in this town.

“But chief, that woman with the legs says we gotta let ’em go. They gave O’Reilly at the front desk an official notice from the FBI, what else we s’pposed t’ do?”

“Well for starters you inform me, ya idiot. Who’s in charge round here anyways, Dondald Duck!? O’Reilly! Get ya arse in here, pronto!”

Jenny Clark appeared with O’Reilly and a heated, whispered discussion started, with Donovan waving his arms about and Clark obviously trying to soothe matters and showing him an official piece of paper. Judy could only make out the occasional words and all of them from Donovan: “Special! ... City Slickers ... ON WHOSE SIDE?”

However, Clark got her way and two dark limousines drove in convoy away from the station and on to the motel. Judy had been left alone for a while. She tried all the doors and windows, but they had been securely locked. “Well slightly better than the police cell I suppose,” she muttered. The room itself was quite large for what she presumed was a cheap motel, about twenty by fifteen feet. There was a small bedroom off to one side and a kitchen section opposite the front door. In the centre were two low leather couches in a caramel shade of brown. Her shoes, squeaked on the laminate floor as she moved around to inspect everything.

After about ten minutes, Jenny Clark, David Jennings and the Mexican looking girl came into the room.

“Well this is much more pleasant,” commented Jennings. “anyone for coffee, water, tea...beer?”

Judy hadn’t noticed how dehydrated she had become over the past few days and now realised that her thumping headache was due to it. Clark gave her an ice cold bottle of spring water which she gulped down with fervour. As she put the bottle down she studied the young girl and caught her eye for a second. A flash of understanding went between them. A moment that brought them together in fear, mistrust of their captors, and a knowing that they must help each other. Judy took another bottle and offered the girl some water too.

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