I have less experience with action scenes in writing, but I am learning. Although I have in my first story "Blood & Fire" few fighting scenes with blood and such but with many vamps, what I guess is not every person's cup of tea which I fully understand.857Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXF8wUFqpfK
Here is with what I came up spontaneous the other day along the way to a camp in a bus. Fair warning, there is nothing with guns and/or blood but with a lot of cleverness and bad language. I hope you will enjoy it.
Switzerland, present time
He made himself comfortable in his seat while the bus drove on the driveway. Leaning against the backrest close towards the window. The yellow morning sun warmed gently his face. His dark green eyes wandered in the distance on the landscapes of Switzerland. Green pastures and rich golden crops. Woods and towns passing by in the distance as the bus drives on the highway. In the bus nearly all the people held a conversation with their sitting neighbor, sleeping or listening to music through earplugs and reading some book. Phillip was the only one who was just watching out the window. While his appearance was relaxed, he actually wasn't. His heart pounded of fear of getting caught. His mind wondered how to escape incase a spy would be in the bus and then if he arrives safely at his destination Basel what happens next? When ever he heard a person standing up and walking down the small aisle. His eyes quickly turned towards the empty seat beside him. But it was always a person who needed to go to the bathroom.
Damn am I on edge! No wonder after six weeks getting chased day and night. Trained spies after me and I, an ordinary citizen running for his life. Well some life! It was a misunderstanding, I didn't shoot the agent. I saved his life, I didn't kill him! I can't shake lose of those damn pictures! Like a broken film repeating again and again in my head day and night. If I tell the others, they won't believe a word of it. If only the agent were alive and can reveal the truth, then I won't be here unless on vacation.
Phillip sighed and leaned his heavy head against the window. He felt on his forehead the gentle buzz of the engine. Outside beyond the highway in the air Phillip noticed a bird, a falcon soaring high on the clear blue sky. Slowly his frowning lips curved to a small contented grin.
I wish could be free as that falcon. No spies after me. No rules telling me what to do or shouldn't. No great care in this world but for food and shelter. My, what a view this bird must have. It must be beautiful up there.
Phillip gave a sigh while he is focused on the falcon. Admiring its elegant beats of the wings and the colorful appearance of the feathers. Striped in black and white with big chocolate brown flecks on the back and having strong yellow and sharp talons.
Suddenly Phillip's view was cut off by something black, lights flickered in a rhythmic interval as the bus continued to drive. It was a tunnel. Phillip crossed his arms of disappointment. There was a frowning on his young manly clean-shaven face. A thin scar was visible above his left eyebrow cutting through it, down behind his eye and over a part of his cheek. A scar he received while escaping from a spy by crawling under the barbed wire fence in North America. One of many pictures that he sees again and again in his head. His hands balled into fists. Ahead of the bus he saw the end of the tunnel and soon saw a part of the landscape again but no falcon in sight.
After an hour he arrived at his destination without any trouble, not even traffic jam. Without a word but quick noticeable glances Phillip collected his black sports-bag, wore it over his shoulder and headed to the train station Basel. While walking the last few meters before entering the station a feeling of being watched overcame him.
Damn! Don't panic! Panicking is the worst thing to do. Breathe deeply and pretend as if it were nothing, walk normal. If I look around it's too obvious. I'll act as if being lost, then I'll win plentiful of view and see what tips me off.
He thought while continuing to walk, entering the station. Before him was a rectangular shaped square filled with people and few benches, along the walls were the counters for tickets and exchanges for the money. High above the walls hung old portraits of the Victorian Era, portraying the landscape of Switzerland in soothing warm colors. Directly beside him on the right stands an information stand for tourists. One or two yards further were another entrance, nearly like a tunnel it appeared to the large high-ceiled square. Filled with restaurants, bars and shops. Ahead of him nearly across the square were the stairs and escalators heading upwards to the rails. Phillip turned hesitantly to the second entrance, believing he might win a better glance in a shop as a spontaneous plan B. He entered in the next closest shop and pretended to search something specific, beginning to wander about as if lost. "Fuck." He whispered.
In an aisle in the middle of the room, he saw a man dressed in suit with a special earplug to his ear, similar to what the bodyguards have. As they noticed each other, they froze on the spot. The scene looked familiar like in the western movies. Both had their legs apart and arms tensed in the air close beside the legs. Phillip's shoulders heaved while the other man remained calm.
Damn it! Fuck it! Damn it! Fuck it!
Quickly the spy holds a finger to the plug and speaks to it his location.
Why am I standing here? Move your fucking arse before it's too late!
Rapidly Phillip sprinted towards the spy. Pushing as hard as his arm could aside the spy. He heard rattling sounds behind him.
The spy must have hit the shelf.
"Stop! Halt!" The spy cried immediately from behind.
Phillip gave a brief glance over his shoulder. He was running after him. Phillip ran out of the store and ran right into the opposite side, a restaurant. Sprinting onwards past multiple tables and chairs knocked few of the empty chairs over. Soon he spotted the second exit and ran out on the square where the bus halted and further trams. Quickly he stopped and looked around him.
Down to the park that lies beyond the square or down the road on the left?
"There he is!" Called a spy after him from the restaurant.
Immediately Phillip sprinted down the square, across a busy street and into the park. Quickly turned to left running down a deserted street. At the next crossing he halted.
Where to now? Onward, left or right? Alright think! What would a stupid person do and a smarty pants? If I were stupid I would run onward, just onward. If a smarty pants, to the left or right.
Soon he heard familiar voices of the spies in the distance.
Quick-witted he ran onwards then took a sharp turn to the left and down the few steps of the staris. He continued running, past a church and made brief turn to the right, nearly circling the church. Against the wall close to the entrance of the church Phillip halted and listened, they ran past him without noticing and in great speed. He gives a sigh and leaned relaxed against the wall of a building. His chest heaving to his deep breathes. He wiped away the drops of sweat from his brow and headed back to the station with his hood up from his jacket. Keeping an eye sharp for any further spies. As he reached the counter for a ticket everything went smoothly. Paid in cash the ticket and headed to the rails.
No spies till now. Did all of them leave? I hope so. After all no one is that stupid to return here so soon after what happened. That's why I'm here again so soon, because I am stupid.
Thought Phillip suspiciously always throwing back glances. With the escalator he went to his specific rail, a train stood at the rail. At one of the doors ahead of Phillip stood the conductor patiently. Without hesitation Phillip walked up to him and handed his ticket. Quickly the conductor punched a hole in the ticket, handed it back and welcomed Phillip on board the train to Paris, France. Phillip gave a nod and stepped in. Within the minuet he found an empty seat and made himself comfortable. Patiently he waited for the train to move. Drumming his fingers on his knee and looking out the window.
I hope this train doesn't carry any spies along. Damn! Why did I wait then in the shop? Some vain hope that they will bring the news that I am innocent. Some hope, some life! Why did I agree on helping the agent? How could I have been such a fool! I just wanted to help and do the right thing. Unfortunately it leads me to the opposite direction, here. Oh god! I need some time to find out why I am accused of murder. Since the murder I've haven't had the time to think, always spies close after my heels. Something is foul, but from whom? Where to start? It must be someone from the inside, that means in USA! I must be crazy! They'll seize me the moment I step foot on that land!
Sighed Phillip and looked over the opposite side of the wagon. A young beautiful woman was freshening herself with make up. Suddenly it snapped in Phillip's mind.
Not as long I'm in a disguise and with a false ID! But where can I get a false ID?
Phillip sighed again and let his head rest against the window; his hands were balled to fists.
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