A Sample from Hermosa…
Lauren changed out of her work clothes and into the sundress that was hanging in her locker for the last few weeks. The weather has been cool and damp (it doesn’t really rain in Southern California and it’s never cold cold) so she hadn’t changed out of her work clothes before leaving in a while. She parked in the hospital overflow lot a few blocks south from the doctor lot because liked the short walk to her car after work, in her head separating herself from the office, even though she loved her job and had to walk along the noisy overpass of the 118 freeway.
The security guard offered to give her a ride but she declined, citing the beautiful weather, but in fact he had given her that look several times, and she didn’t want to encourage him. The weather was beautiful, and he was nice enough, and cute, probably harmless, but most certainly not her type. Her type was as yet undefined, but it was definitely not married guys fifteen years her senior.
As she was thinking about her type, movement on her left came into her periphery, very close. She jump-turned to see a white van coming to a stop at the curb near her and a muscly giant in a painted-on black t-shirt and jeans step out of the sliding door before the van even came to a full stop. What the hell?
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As he was coasting up to the red light at Rinaldi St., James spotted a girl walking along the sidewalk on right side of the street in a black-and-yellow flowered sundress. He later said he noticed her because no one walks in LA, especially not in the North Valley, but in truth it was more about the long dark brown hair, the way the sundress moved, the Converse hi-tops.
He wasn’t thinking anything dirty; It was like watching moving art to James. After all, the female form is arguably the most popular subject of art in history.
While he was watching, he saw a white Ford van pull up next to her and a middle linebacker step out. She turned suddenly to her left to face the huge person that stepped out of the van and attempted to back away…
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The monster grabs Lauren’s upper left arm, hard, and starts to pull her toward the open door. He was well over 6’, impossibly strong and wearing an ugly expression on his face. Dark hair, square jaw. She attempted to yell but couldn’t catch her breath (maybe panic?) but probably wouldn’t be heard over the ocean-like sounds of the 118 freeway below them anyway. It comes out more as an, ‘Aye Aye’, like she was trying to explain herself. She thinks, ‘he has the wrong person’, for no reason she could think of. Square head turns to his right for a split second as he is backing into the van, still with her upper left arm painfully clamped when the van disappeared with a boom and was replaced by an old orange truck.
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James, rolling downhill through the now-green light, shifted into 3rd and stepped on the gas to pick up speed. There is no other traffic or any parked cars on this street, even though he has just passed the hospital on his left. He’s crossing on the overpass of the 118 freeway and traffic below is moving in both directions, odd for this time of day. The massive guy attempting to drag the girl hears him at the last minute. The driver looks in the rear view. James hit the back driver’s side of the van in the neighborhood of forty-five miles an hour. This is absolutely devastating to the van, getting hit by a truck made with steel I beams as a chassis, and worse for the slab of human in the sliding doorway. As the van shoots forward, the right side hops up onto the sidewalk and it smashes into a light pole.
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Lauren almost loses her balance when her arm is released, since she was pulling away from square head with all that her small frame could muster. She stumbles, collects herself under her Chuck Taylors, and starts to run back the way she came. Where did that orange truck come from? She must have been distracted by the monster trying to take her into the obligatory white van…
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James’ first thought was that the Power Wagon stalled but no, it was still running. It just couldn’t be heard after the tremendous sound of the collision that was still ringing in his ears and freeway noise below. Thankfully there are no deployed airbags to have to work around. At that moment, he is grateful for the massive steel truck. He also gets the major urge to get out of there before the van people see him, thinking that there must be some omnipresent, movie bad guy who has access to street cameras and credit cards. He looked to his right but the girl is gone. How long had he been thinking all of this? A second? Was he concussed?
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Lauren runs back toward the hospital, looking over her shoulder, back at the van. She gets a terrible feeling that the kidnappers are not really injured but about to spring out of the van and run after her. She knows this is wrong but can’t calm herself enough to slow down and keeps running.
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With a slight grinding of the big stick shift, James reverses to catch up to the girl in the sundress and yells, ‘Hop in’. He tried to be somewhat casual, possibly even comforting, but it came out weird to his ears, like as if he does this all the time. Great.