The three of us were violently hurled around the back of the van as it rolled over and over. The worse thing we were shackled hands and ankles while being transferred between prisons. The rollover caused the rear doors to burst open and two of us were thrown out, while the van continued its way down the steep hill. At the bottom was a plantation of firs and other low brush, which swallowed up the prison van.
The young lad who was thrown out with me was about five yards below where I landed and I made my way down to see how he was. It was difficult trying to move down the steep sloped side of the hill wearing leg irons, but I managed to reach him. Just as I got there he was shaking his head and sitting up looking around him in bewilderment.
"What the hell happened?" He asked as I sat down beside him.
"I know as much as you do Frankie. I watched the van vanish into the undergrowth down there," I said pointing to the spot where last I saw it.
"Should we check it out?"
"I'm hoping that they have keys to get these irons off me if nothing else. Come on it will be dark soon and we won't see a thing. Also I think it is going to rain, see those black clouds." I answered.
I found it quicker and easier to do two footed jumps to get down the hill, but it was difficult keeping our balance with your arms close to the body. The van was lying on its roof, the two guards were unconscious and the third prisoner was dead with a broken neck. Fortunately one of the guards had a set of keys on him as well as a bag with sandwiches. After undoing the irons I placed the two sets in the bag, somehow I knew I would need them.
We left the guards hanging where they were, their welfare was of no concern to me and I'm sure the van would have been tracked anyway. So taking a bearing on the setting sun we headed west keeping to the trees which protected from the incoming weather and sight. We had to get away from the area as quickly as possible before they brought in the heat searching helicopter.
Two days we moved west, crossing main roads and avoiding traffic, using trees whenever possible and dropping to the ground on hearing a light plane or helicopter. Where I was heading was towards a sixty foot converted Danish MFV I had on a slipway by an old fisherman's cottage in a bay on the west coast.
I had been on a holiday on the east coast and met who I thought was a divorcee on the first day of my holiday and for six days I had been shafting her at least three times a day. It wasn't until she let out a yell and shouted 'RAPE!' That I discovered she wasn't a divorcee at all, but a Sergeant of Police's wife. She must have heard him enter the house and then she yelled. I was buried inside her pussy when I was grabbed by the hair on my head and pulled off her. The husband must have hit me with something for when I woke up I was in the back of a police wagon.
No-one believed my story. Why would a fine churchgoing woman lie over such a despicable thing and also the wife of a Police Sergeant? After languishing in prison for six months as bail had been refused I was sentenced to eight years with no parole and the judge said he was letting me off leniently. I had been sentenced on a crime I hadn't committed, but not the one I was guilty of where I used my boat.
If I could get to my boat I would easily get out of the laws grasp and vanish anywhere I wanted, for on-board were three false passports. In these days of electronic banking it was easy to get my hands on the money I had stashed away in various banks throughout Europe.
Young Frank had been charged with attempted murder for carving up one of his Toms for withholding money from him. Even though the Tom didn't want to press charges there had been a public outcry and Frank was made an example of and given five years. One thing he wasn't coming with me and I doubt if he wanted to, we just had to get as faraway from the area as possible.
The rain never stopped from about half an hour after the crash, both of us were soaked to the skin. The food we had was gone and both of us felt real low. The wind started to pick up driving the rain like daggers into our faces. In the distance we saw the sky light up with flashes of lightning and only a slight sound of thunder, but it was coming our way.
In the distance we had been travelling towards a faint light which only could have come from a house. As we got closer we saw that is was in fact two dwellings, one a church and the other a house close by. Away in the distance was a small cluster of lights, but it was difficult to judge the distance in the falling rain. There was no alternative, we made for the church, but when we got there it was locked. The door was of the old-fashioned type with large wrought iron bolts and would need a tank to break it down. The house was only about fifty yards from it, so we moved towards the lit window, which was to the right of the front door.
Through the window a man in his late twenties was sitting by the fireplace reading. No other person was in the room and no other lights were visible from where we stood. We knocked on the door and watched as the man rose and then he opened the door. It was just a matter op pushing my hand on his chest and pushing him back into the house. He was shorter than my six feet four frame and a lot thinner. Frank grabbed him and we pushed him into the lit room.
Within minutes I had the irons on him seated on a stout wooden chair. His legs pulled either side of the front legs and the shackles on the inside of the rear legs but over a bar fitted between the rear legs and his arms stretched to the back. He sat with his knees apart and his shoulders arched back. There was no way he would break out of the chair.
The heat of the room had started to make our clothing steam as we stood in front of the fire thawing out our near frozen bones.
"All we want is some food and a chance to dry our clothes and then we will be on our way. Just stay there and no harm will become you. Now is there any other person in the house?" I asked.
"My housekeeper, she has her rooms at the back of the house."
"Frankie, keep an eye on him while I go and have a look."
"Get something to eat at the same time," he asked as I left the room.
Down the short passageway was a door at the end which was closed. I opened it and it led into a kitchen. I heard a woman singing softly to herself coming from an open door to my left and walked towards it and just walked in. Sitting in front of a mirror was a woman in her forties combing her hair, dressed only in bra and panties. She just froze, watching me in her mirror the brush held still. In her eyes I saw the fear rise and before she could scream or do anything else I reached over and grabbed her by her upper arm and pulled her into the kitchen.
"I don't care what it is, but get some food and put it on a tray, plus any milk you may have," I said in her ear.
"Can I put something on first," she said with a quivering voice.
"No, you are fine as you are. We won't harm you if you just do as we ask."
"We!" She asked.
"Yes there are two of us, now quickly for we are hungry."
Within minutes she had a tray with most of the contents of the fridge and bread stacked on it.
"Now carry it in to the room where your boss is."
"He is the vicar," she corrected me.
"I don't care what he is, move." I said slapping her ample silk covered buttocks.
When she placed the tray on the thick wooden coffee-table she made to run off.
"Now stay or I'll have to tie you down," I said but she hooked her fingers and tried to scratch me. I just grabbed her wrists and held her
"Frankie, clear that coffee-table and get me the bag."
Holding her with one hand I put one shackle on one leg passed the other under the table and secured that then I did the same with her hands. Now she was sitting astride the table but leaning forward unable to move.
"I told you no harm will come to you, but you didn't believe me lady," I said to her as Frankie and I stripped to our underwear while eating the food from the tray.
"Have you a drier?" I asked.
"In the laundry," she snapped.
"Good, give me your dirty clothing Frankie, we might as well wash them at the same time."
I left Frankie scoffing his face while I threw all our clothing including the socks into the washing machine and returned to the warm lounge.
The vicar was ogling his housekeeper's cleavage, which was in his full view. The housekeeper's breasts weren't large; I would say a thirty-six inch 'C' cup and with her arms bent under the table provided a nice view.
"Nice isn't it vicar," I said.
He quickly looked me in the eye. He didn't need to say anything the look on his face and the bulge in the front of his pants was proof enough.
"Want to see more vicar?" I asked him.
With that I undid the three clips at the woman's back and the bra fell away the straps sliding down her arms.
"Not bad at all is she. Have you shafted her yet?" I asked.
"No he hasn't. He's not like that," the woman said with almost venom in her voice.
"I bet you would like to though, wouldn't you vicar. That hard-on you have tells me you would. Maybe just a blow job, I'm sure she would willingly do that for you vicar." Frankie said now enjoying the embarrassment we were having on the pair of them.
"Don't be so disgusting," the woman replied.
"Frankie help me push this coffee-table closer to the vicar."