Opening for my mystery/thriller Novel: Cast.

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Harbourman
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Joined: July 11th, 2022, 3:17 pm
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Opening for my mystery/thriller Novel: Cast.

Post by Harbourman » July 11th, 2022, 5:04 pm

Cast

Part One: Stormy Seas

Chapter 1:


Parker Marina
Harwichport, Ma.
7:46pm

Squall:
noun /skwôl/
1. Sudden and harsh tempest. Violent and unforgiving.

Truth be told, those were some of his best qualities.

Randall ‘Squall’ Herrick sat on an upturned bucket squinting hard, gray eyes into the horizon as he loaded a dense wad of chewing tobacco past stained teeth. Raising a vile red oil rag that rarely left it’s equally vile home in the pocket of his overalls, he dabbed the corners of his mouth as if he'd just polished off a soufflé.

His nose wrinkled above his greasy beard as he sniffed at the air like a wharf rat. Sure, the harbor was glassy flat, and the air held the faintest scent of heather from the marsh, but Squall wouldn't be fooled. Couldn't be fooled. He could call a storm two weeks in advance just by sniffing a drop of Seagull shit. A monster was brewing, of that you could be sure. Spawning and swirling, clawing and sucking it's raw energy from the salty depths.

But that wasn't his primary concern. In fact, it wasn't a concern at all. Squall loved a storm, the bigger the better. It kept things away. Humans things. Things that made noise and asked questions. Hypocritical things that reeked of judgement and superiority, despite how broken they were themselves. No, Squall had little use for things that he couldn't predict. He liked motors and gears and winches. He liked tides and wood and the smell of gasoline. These were the things that Squall Herrick felt closest to, the only family he had, wanted or needed. That’s what made Squall the best salt mechanic on the eastern seaboard and what made his second job, as 'Rental Supervisor' for Parker Marine, such a royal pain in the ass.

Yes, there was only one thing Squall hated more than Humans, and that was Tourists. During the summer season, the town was flooded with smug, rich, blowhards. This wasn't the Cape from his childhood. Not that he was particularly fond of those memories either (the cigar burns on the back of his neck were reminder enough) but at least the tourists back then seemed more humble, more normal, more…tolerable. Cape Cod was always a popular vacation destination in the Northeast, but back in the day everybody could afford it's small cottages and family owned restaurants. A pizza was all you needed most nights, maybe some fried clams or Lobster if you could afford to splurge. College kids rented shacks for the summer, flopping 8-10 bodies in a two bedroom, working any number of jobs pay rent and still have some coin left over to get drunk and screw in the dunes on a nightly basis. Now, you couldn’t drive from P-Town and back without seeing a BMW or Mercedes perched on a crushed-shell driveway.

Squall shivered at the thought and released a thin brown stream of tobacco spit onto the weathered planks. He unscrewed the top off a fifth of Jack Daniels, tossing the cap in the general direction of the trash-can where it bounced off and settled against several more of the same. Normally he would have finished the day's drinking at The Tank, a local dive bar, but he was forced to sit vigil for that one boat still out. The pride of the fleet. A brand new 26 foot Boston Whaler center console that left just after dawn and was supposed to be back by noon. Squall never worried, but this was about as close as he got.

He sensed something was off the minute the boys walked into the shop this morning, ringing the service bell like it was a contest. Squall was elbows deep in a Mercrusier Marine 460 Hp. Big Block. Complete rebuild that was due this coming Sunday. The difference in cost between engines that need to be replaced, versus those that can be rebuilt, is hefty. A pair of gas engines may be rebuilt for $8,000 but the replacement cost is $22,000 including installation, a difference of 67% or $14,000. Real Money, real work. The bell continued to ring in the sunrise.

Squall walked out of the boat house, wiping his hands on his rag, and spit a brown river into the garbage can.

"What." It was a statement, not a question.

The two kids practically looked like stack of crisp hundred dollar bills. Clearly neither one had worked a real day in their 20 or so years of soft living. Tall, tan and more Vineyard Vine Wales then a Macy's catalog, they professed to need a boat to "Observe, Document and Protect the Harbor Seals of Monomoy Island".

Like he gave a shit. It was everything he could do not to punch them both in the face, but switching hats from grease monkey to 'Rental Supervisor' he slapped the yellow rental agreement on the desk, threw a pencil off the blonde one's Ken Doll-like chest and began barking instructions, punctuated by wet bits of flying chewing tobacco.

Technically, anyone over the age of 16 can operate a motorboat on Massachusetts waterways without any restrictions whatsoever. However, Squall never missed this phase of the process to interrogate, intimidate and berate. the customers as much as needed to inflate his mood. Every season his nastiness increased exponentially, in hopes that word of mouth would prevent new customers. It never worked, they still came in droves. These two particular snowflakes hung on his every word, asking smart, detailed questions about tides, safety procedures and 'local marine protocols'. They continued, producing Boater Safety Certificates, captain licenses, nautical charts, and even, what looked to be at first glance, a meticulously kept log book. Herrick fumed.

He watched as they loaded the boat with their cargo; water, sunscreen, binoculars, life jackets. Who the hell rents a boat and brings their own life jackets, Squall thought to himself taking a rip off his first bottle of the day. No scuba gear, no fishing rods, no women. They probably didn't even have a single cold beer packed into that outrageously overpriced cooler. He spat in disgust as they inched out of the harbor, waving back at him, being extra careful not to violate the 'No Wake Zone' as they went.

That was around 6am, now it was past dusk. The familiar purple-blue darkness was seeping into the Marina as the sun retreated behind the pier's shops and restaurants. The water turned from a shimmering silver to an inky black, devoid of any reflections from the yachts that bobbed silently on it's surface.

Squall stood and headed towards the office, it was time to make the call. He cursed the two renters under his breath for making him communicate with the authorities. He'd make sure they pay for it, too.

He glanced again at the mouth of the Harbor as he dialed. What he saw made him drop the receiver to the floor. It swung back and forth, the cord tangling more with every bounce, but Squall was already halfway down the quay, frantically waving his oil rag above his head. He recognized his boat in an instant as it screamed, full throttle, past the narrow rock jetties that lined the entrance to the harbor, reckless and out of control. The stern fishtailed wildly into a massive red buoy with a deafening metallic clang that echoed off the more peacefully moored vessels. Spumes of seawater arched forcefully from each side of the hull as it continued its manic entry through the marina, swamping couples enjoying wine and crackers on the decks of their mega-yachts.

Squall slowed as he reached the end of the dock, the pilot coming into focus as the boat raced towards the pier. It was the smarmy blonde kid, alright. Squall jumped backwards as Ken Doll cut the engine suddenly and spun the wheel hard, sending a tidal wave of cool saltwater into the air as the boat's starboard side smashed into the slip. Herrick leapt into the boat and was on him in an instant, ready to snap his neck like a brined pickle. Up until this moment his sole focus had been on his boat and the havoc being reeked in his marina. This was his home, and nobody violated it in such a way.

As he spun the boy around, the gruesome details became apparent. Blood was everywhere, the boy's face was pale and drawn. His eyes were full moons, wide and booming with terror. His blue lips quivered as bloody drool stretched down his bare chest. Squall had seen this look before as a Merchant Marine sailing around the Horn. It didn't bode well for the wearer. The boy's left arm was gone from just below the shoulder, leaving a tangled mess of tattered skin, sharp bone and pulpy sinew. But there was more missing. Where was the other passenger?

bobbiecb
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Joined: November 23rd, 2022, 2:25 am
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Re: Opening for my mystery/thriller Novel: Cast.

Post by bobbiecb » November 23rd, 2022, 3:21 pm

Wow. This is beautiful writing. I thoroughly enjoyed reading it. I assume you are a published author?

Specifics --

1) Lobster is capitalized in the middle of a sentence, you probably meant lobster
2) This sentence is missing the word to, which is added here --
College kids rented shacks for the summer, flopping 8-10 bodies in a two bedroom, working any number of jobs to pay rent and still have some coin left over to get drunk and screw in the dunes on a nightly basis.
3) You write numbers as digits -- 20, 8-10, 16. Is this ok? I've often heard the standard rule is to spell out any number greater than 10, but I could be wrong. Anyway, unless you know for certain that this is okay, you might look it up.
4) This sentence has a semi-colon after the word cargo when it requires a colon --
He watched as they loaded the boat with their cargo; water, sunscreen, binoculars, life jackets
5) it's is incorrect, it should be its --
on it's surface.
6) First word of this sentence needs to be capitalized --
the customers as much as needed to inflate his mood.
7) You use British-English spellings, I assume this is appropriate where you live and publish?

judgement = UK ... judgment = US
trash-can = UK ... trashcan = US
harbourman = UK ... harborman = US

Overall -- very well-written, a pleasure to read. And, it definitely accomplished exactly what an opening chapter must do -- it draws me in so that I want to continue reading your story. Excellent.

DrifterNZ
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Joined: November 3rd, 2020, 2:06 am
Location: New Zealand
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Re: Opening for my mystery/thriller Novel: Cast.

Post by DrifterNZ » November 25th, 2022, 2:59 pm

What a great start.
You introduced the charaters and setting well and I couldn't help but get drawn into the story.. Great work.
Keep it up.

JordonTerry
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Joined: September 14th, 2023, 2:30 am
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Re: Opening for my mystery/thriller Novel: Cast.

Post by JordonTerry » September 14th, 2023, 2:33 am

I appreciate what you share. This is useful information for me.
mr mine

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