The Dramatic Saga of Peter Q KleeshayChapter 3
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The Dramatic Saga Of Peter Q. KleeshayChapter 17 free porn video
"They've taken Megan!" Exclaimed a dirty and exhausted yet still surprisingly attractive and sexy Carla.
Pete was frozen to the spot, a cold lump forming in his otherwise lumpless stomach. Penny, however, rushed to the disheveled girl and in as motherly a manner as she could muster, helped her to a chair while instructing Wendy to get a glass of water.
"Here," soothed Penny, handing her the water, "drink this. Now try and calm down and tell us what happened."
"Calm down and tell you what happened?" complained the lovely blonde, taking a sip of water. "How in the hell am I supposed to do that? I mean, there we were, minding our own business when a blue 2003 Buick LeSabre, came out of nowhere. There were three guys in it, two with black hair and one with blond, but all three just looked like thugs. Anyway, those crazy fuckers rammed right into Chad's car! We thought it was just a regular car accident when all of a sudden there were two more cars, a red 2000 Ford Taurus that had two more blonde haired thugs and black Lincoln Town car, either a '95 or a '96 - I always get those two confused - the driver was a thug but the passenger seemed to be in charge. He was tall, around six foot two, maybe a hundred ninety pounds and short brown hair. Well, in no time at all they were all over us, mainly grabbing at Megan, Chad tried to stop them, he couldn't take them all but I saw him knock out two of them before they put him down - I don't know if he's okay or not, the last time I saw him he was lying on the ground and he wasn't moving, needless to say I'm very worried about him. I tried to run but one of the thugs grabbed my arm then they tied up Megan with duct tape - not the real stuff but some cheap knock off brand - and that was when the guy who seemed to be in charge, ordered the guy holding me to 'go ahead and kill the bitch' so I kicked him in the balls and ran off into the woods. I got here as fast as I could."
Carla paused to catch her breath, "So after all that it's amazing that I can remember my own name, just how am I supposed to calm down and tell a whole story?"
"Never mind dear," said Penny, patting Carla on the head, "sip your water and try to relax."
"What are they gonna do to her?" Pete asked his two mentors.
"My guess would be," replied Bernard, "that they are trying to decide whether or not we have a breeder. They will first give her a pregnancy test and if it's positive, they'll extract the embryo to see if it's human or alien."
"But what about Megan? Are they going to hurt her?"
"They'll keep her alive until they find out what they need to know, then she becomes a liability and will probably be killed. If they had a breeder of their own she would be used for that, but since they don't, she is just excess baggage."
"How long do we have?"
"The pregnancy test is simple," said Skip, "but they won't be able to get the embryo out that easily, and then it takes a little while to examine the DNA. If you want to find Megan alive, we have to do in the next day or two."
Pete grabbed the phone. "Carla, do you think you can take us back to where it happened?"
"Now Pete," counseled Bernard, "I don't think it's a good idea for you..."
"Don't worry, I don't plan on going there alone - I'm calling back up." Pete said as he finished dialing.
"Johnnie? Trouble ... call your cousin and get back here ... we're fine here but Megan's been kidnapped ... you bet your ass it was the Sonarians, Carla described the guy I saw at the school ... the one I fought with ... that's because you weren't here when I told the story ... I'll tell you later ... get here as soon as you can and bring the whole crew ... great, bye."
Fifteen minutes later Pete's driveway was once again filled the throaty growls of beefy Harleys and bored out American muscle cars.
Pete and Johnnie piled into the back seat of a jet-black 1968 Plymouth Fury convertible while Carla took the passenger seat. Johnnie assured Pete that his best driver, Gimpy Joe, was behind the wheel.
"Okay," said Carla, having been informed that she was to guide the driver and all the others would follow, "head towards that boutique that has the cool hair scrunchies but doesn't carry any good clothes whatsoever."
Gimpy Joe stared at her with a blank look. "Any chance you have a street name?"
"Sure, it's one of those number streets, and the other was a president's name. It's by the big snowman."
"Fourth and Jefferson," supplied Johnnie to the amazed looks from Pete and the driver. "There's a tire store there, its got a big blow up of that white tire dude."
"Yeah, that's it," Agreed Carla, "the Michigan Man."
Gimpy Joe gunned the engine and sped off as he and the others shook their heads hopelessly.
It took ten minutes for the six cars and twice as many motorcycles to roar through the nearly abandoned streets to the scene of the abduction. Chad was sitting on the ground propped against a rear tire of his car. The Fury squealed to a stop, Pete and Carla flew to Chad, who looked at them with pained eyes.
"Sorry, Pete." He said, miserably with that look jocks get when they just blew the big game. "I tried man, there was just too fucking many of 'em."
"You did fine, how badly are you hurt?"
"I don't think anything's broken. Are we going after them?"
"That's what we have to figure out."
He stood, leaving Carla to fuss over her boyfriend and turned to face the group.
"So, where do we start looking?"
"I know one of their safe houses," offered Bernard, "I wouldn't expect to find her at it, but we may find someone who knows where they've taken her."
"Sounds good to me. Let's go!"
Everyone piled back into their vehicles and tore off with Bernard's driver leading the way. About half way there, Carla, who was now in the back seat with Johnnie and Chad began to shout.
"That's them! That's them!"
"What are you talking about?" asked Pete from the front seat.
"That red car we just passed going the other way, that was one of the cars that attacked us!"
Without any prompting, Gimpy Joe twisted the wheel while slamming on his emergency brake, his car spun around and in an almost seamless maneuver he was quickly roaring after the red Taurus.
The car had a huge lead and Pete, remembering his pursuit of the Sonarian agent at the school, had an idea.
"Johnnie!" He shouted, climbing up to sit on the back of his seat. "Get on my back!"
"What are you talking about?"
"Just do it!"
Note: It would help immensely if, at this time, all readers would imagine hearing Molly Hatchet's 'Flirting with Disaster' during the next two paragraphs. No real reason other than that is what the author was listening to when he wrote it - plus it's a kick ass song.
Johnnie wrapped his arms around Pete's shoulders, convinced that Pete had lost his mind when suddenly the two of them were floating above the speeding Fury.
Pete leaned forward and quickly left the convertible behind. He felt Johnnie's grip tighten painfully but ignored it as he overtook the Taurus. Just before reaching it he sent a telekinetic blast that took out the back window and a second later they were in the car, Johnnie's fists flying and Pete, having once again not completely thought through his actions, huddled on the floor boards trying to avoid injury. The Taurus spun out of control and slammed to a stop against a telephone pole.
By the time he and Johnnie had extricated themselves they had been joined by the Fury and two of the other cars along with half the Harleys.
"What the fuck was that?" Johnnie asked, his eyes wide.
"Never mind that now. Let's see if either of these assholes know where Megan is."
Skip, having checked on the thugs, pulled his head out of the Taurus.
"We won't learn anything from these two, they're both dead."
"God Dammit, Johnnie! Why did you think were chasing them?"
"I'm sorry, but those guys were really hard to hurt, I had to pull out all the stops or they would've killed both of us."
"You're right. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled at you. Somebody get Bernard on the phone."
Two minutes later Skip was shaking his head and closing his phone.
"No joy, the house was deserted. We're back to square one."
"C'mon Pete," Pete murmured to himself, "think ... think ... Hold on! Carla, can your coven help locate Megan? The witches on television have those locator spells."
"You know there is something I've read about, it's not as easy as it is on TV, but..."
Carla fished her phone from her wonderfully tight blue jeans and flipped it open dialing quickly.
"It's Carla ... emergency meeting ... no, all of them ... the cemetery on Oak Street, we have to cast before midnight so you have less than an hour ... see you there and make sure nobody's late, Megan's life may be on the line."
She hung up the phone.
"Okay, I have to get some things from my house and I have to do it fast."
"How much stuff are you getting?" asked Johnnie.
"Just a back pack."
"In that case," said Big Mike, throwing his leg over his bike, "get on ... and no screaming. Just close your eyes and enjoy the ride."
Carla climbed on and tried wrapping her arms around the huge biker but had to settle for grabbing his shoulders. She wasn't a tiny girl, but clinging to Big Mike's back she looked like a kindergartener's teddy-bear back pack on a sixth grader.
"Meet us at the cemetery, I'll be there as soon as I can." She managed to say just before the ominous looking hog roared to life and took off like a greased pig running from a dozen elephant ear and cotton candy fueled pre-teen boys at a state fair.
Pete and the rest had been waiting at the cemetery for forty-five minutes; the other cheerleaders had just arrived when they heard the throbbing growl of the Harley approaching. They actually heard it for several minutes before it finally raced into sight, Carla's gleaming blonde hair billowing straight back. Once Big Mike stopped the throbbing machine she was slow in dismounting and staggered slightly in joining them.
"Wow," she said, "that thing is a lot ... uhm ... faster, yeah, faster than I thought it would be." She shook her head and re-oriented, "Is everyone here?"
She looked around and saw everyone she needed.
"Okay girls, power circle over there, Brandy, you know what to do," she held out her back pack after extracting a small leather bound notebook, "you'll find everything you need in here."
She walked over to Pete, leafing through the notebook.
"This one is kinda dark. Someone is going to have to give up a blood sacrifice - you know, like what you had to go through when we freed Megan from your control. This is different only in that it has to be voluntary."
"That's okay," Pete assured her, "I'm ready."
"Your's won't work. It has to be a blood relative."
Since they had agreed that Penny would stay home in case Megan escaped and tried calling for help, all eyes turned toward Mindy.
"No!" said Pete firmly, "find another way, there's no way in hell I'd ever allow something like that to..." he stopped, feeling a hand on his shoulder. He turned to find his lovely little sister standing there, her light brown hair framing her beautiful features with a look of pure innocence.
"It's okay, Pete," she said, her voice barely audible. "I'll do it."
"Are you sure?" Pete asked, "It hurts a lot."
"Mindy," chimed in Wendy, "why would do that for Megan? After all she did to you over the years."
"But she's still my sister, and with the way things are now ... she's a lot nicer. I don't want her to die."
"I've kinda gotten to like her lately too." Admitted Pete.
"Okay folks," stated Carla in a 'take charge' tone of voice, "It's show-time. Mindy, you come stand in the center of the circle." She guided the adorable lithe teen to her proper place. "After we begin the blood flow you have to hold your arms straight out to your sides and turn in a slow circle. We need blood at all the points of the compass so stop when your hands are over each of these points," she indicated several circles scratched into the dirt, "and you need to hit each of them with blood from both hands, so this may take a while. You still up to it?"
Mindy swallowed hard. "Okay. I got it."
"Why does Mindy have to be in the center of the circle while you do the spell?" Asked Pete, "can't she just drop the blood and get out?" I've seen that circle in action and the center isn't the best place to be."
"She has to be in the middle. The spell is going to be 'on' her. She will become Megan's locator."
Before Pete could protest, Mindy thrust out her hands, "Let's go, do what you have to."
Pete's chest swelled with love and pride at his little sister's courage.
"Hang on," stalled Carla, "I gotta give the girls their lines."
There was a brief huddle of cheerleaders and then they dispersed to the circle. Carla approached Mindy, her hand behind her back.
"Are you ready?"
Mindy swallowed hard, "as ready as I'll ever be."
Carla produced the same dagger they had used on Pete and in two quick practiced motions, accompanied by two soft moans from Mindy, there was a small dripping wound in each hand of the lithe beauty.
Gritting her teeth, Mindy held out her arms and began the slow and arduous process of allowing her precious life's fluid to accumulate at each of the designated spots. The cheerleaders all began chanting in some ancient obscure dialect but Pete paid them no attention, focused as he was on the single tear slowly winding it's way down Mindy's adorable cheek. She finished her circuit and the air in the circle became distorted, shimmering like an asphalt highway on a hot summer day. In no time at all her hair was flying in an unseen wind as she silently screamed.
Horrified, Pete was about to put a stop to the whole ordeal when it was over. Silence descended on the cemetery, Mindy looked curiously at her now healed hands and then, turning slowly she seemed to assess each point of the compass until she finally stopped, pointing to the northwest.
"That way ... Megan is that way."
They all climbed back into their vehicles, Mindy taking front seat of the Fury this time. Gimpy Joe roared off turning when and where Mindy indicated. They had been driving for about half an hour when Pete's phone rang. He reached for his pocket, grimaced, unfastened his seat belt and reached for his phone again.
"Hello?"
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