Second Chance
Chapter 14

SECOND CHANCE is copyright protected. Any use, including reprints, without specific written permission is forbidden and illegal

DoOver Sci-fi Sex Story: Chapter 14 - 43 year old Carl watched helplessly as Death came for him in the form of an overloaded produce truck. Suddenly he found himself in the body of a 14 year old boy, injured in the same accident. Now Carl had to learn how to live as Brian and cope with a new life and a loving mother.

Caution: This DoOver Sci-fi Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/Fa   Consensual   Science Fiction   DoOver   Incest   Mother   Son   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Petting  

It didn't take long for Holly to let me know they were very grateful for my help and for us to get on the road. I wanted them far away from the place where they were dumped, in case the aunt had a change of heart and decided to torment them some more. Something nagged at me about their situation, and I wondered if they were in danger and didn't know it. When they were less wound up, I would try to discover more about their parent's death and the facts surrounding their estate. Maybe that would give me a clue as to why I felt so insecure about their safety.

We hit a Walmart in Saint Joseph to get them squared away for the next few days, had a late supper in Columbia, Missouri and stayed overnight at a nice place in Mount Vernon, Illinois. Our conversation through the rest of the evening was muted. All three of them were too stressed to relax, so I let them decide when to talk and when to remain silent.

The hotel had a nice two bedroom suite, and each room had two king sized beds. The girls took one, and I sacked out in the other. The trip from Sioux Falls to Columbia was enough to wipe me out completely. I know I made it into bed, but can't remember any of the details. We agreed to sleep a little late and meet for breakfast at ten.

When I came out of the second bedroom, all three girls were freshly showered, packed into their new, Walmart suitcases, and ready to eat. I could tell they were hungry, but not comfortable enough to say so. There was a mom and pop diner very near the hotel, and I made a show out of ordering things I thought they'd like to go with the things they ordered.

Once we were all fed, I made a side trip back to Walmart and bought them each a smartphone of their choice, with a prepaid, twelve month, unlimited talk, text, and surf package. When I caught Holly looking at a Microsoft Surface Pro Tablet, I bought them each one with a twelve month, prepaid, data package to go with it. As we pulled back onto the interstate, they were all three surfing to their hearts' content.

It was because of the tablets that they left me.

We'd been driving a little over three hours when Lettie shouted, "Holly! I Found Aunt Darla and Uncle Matt! Look. They live in Lebanon, Tennessee. I looked up the white pages for them there, and found a phone number. Call them!" She was so happy, I wondered who Uncle Matt and Aunt Darla were, since Holly had said they had no other relatives. I figured they were close friends who had the kids call them aunt and uncle.

Holly punched in the number and when it was answered, the volume in the car went up dramatically. The couple seemed as happy to hear from Holly as she was to speak with them, and pretty soon the three girls crowded around the phone, while Holly told them of their abandonment. That lowered the volume considerably, as they shared the ugly details.

A short time later Holly looked at me and said, "Uncle Matt wants to talk to you – please?" and handed me the phone.

I took it and casually said, "Hello?"

"Hi. This is Matt and Darla Covington. The girls are like family to us, and we had no idea things were going so badly at their uncle's. I know you pretty much saved them, and I hate to ask, but instead of taking them to your ranch, would you be willing to either bring them to Lebanon, or meet us somewhere that we can pick them up? There is no way they are going to be orphans while we are alive." He stopped talking, having said enough to let me know they meant it when they said they wanted the girls.

"Sure. Please give Holly the physical address where you are, and I'll bring them straight to you. We are a long drive away, and I can't imagine getting to Lebanon before supper. So they will have eaten when you see them.

"The young man who abandoned them, drove off with all their belongings, and I replaced their immediate needs, but we didn't do any serious shopping. Are you able to handle that, or should I stop at a mall and outfit the three ladies?"

He gave that little thought and said, "What you've done for those girls is way beyond the call. Their parents' attorney needs to get involved here, and use the life insurance money to replace their belongings, as well as go after that idiot of an aunt. If you would PLEASE bring them here, we'll deal with it all tomorrow. You did say that they have what they need for a few days? Is that what I heard, because if not, Darla and I can run out and start picking up the essentials."

They were so anxious about the girls that I knew it'd be Ok, so I promised to take them straight to Lebanon and handed the phone back to Holy to get the address for the GPS. When she had it punched in, we had a route, and the girls were ecstatic about their good fortune. Their happiness blunted the loneliness I suddenly felt, but refused to give in to. They needed their loved ones, and I needed to get on with David's life.

It happened just like that.

We had a wonderful dinner, and got to Lebanon about nine P.M. Darla and Matt turned out to be wonderful folks. They were older than I expected – somewhere near sixty – but the way the girls ran into their arms was a thing of beauty. They were an unconventionally beautiful family.

It was easy to leave them off, knowing someone loved them, now.

Alone again, I pushed on from Lebanon, and stayed overnight near Crossville, Tennessee. There was no reason to hurry anymore. The girls were safe, and I was, once again, at loose ends. The hotel was fine, and as I drove away, it hit me that I remembered nothing else about it.

I hadn't been on the road very long when my phone rang. It was Brenda. "Hi," I said, feeling suspicious.

"David. It's Brenda. Cindi is on with me."

I heard, "Hi Davy," in the background.

"I know you probably don't want to hear from us right now, but we need to know some things. What was your father's name?"

"Samuel Walsh," I said, feeling snippy instead of cooperative.

"Do you know his date of birth?"

I told her, and heard her sharp intake of breath.

"Sammy Walsh was my first affair, David. And he was Cindi's father. When I told you how much you reminded me of my Sammy, it was because you are half of him! I can't believe I didn't see it from the beginning.

"You've been having sex with your sister, and I've been screwing my first lover's son ... If that isn't twisted enough, you two got me touching and feeling up my own daughter." Brenda asked a couple easy questions, which I knew the answer to, thankfully, to confirm her hunch

She sounded broken. That cracked my hard shell.

"Brenda. We didn't know any of those things. Don't let it tear you to pieces. If My father was your Sammy Walsh, and we didn't know it, so what? No one got hurt, and you've gone away to live your own life, so why let it make you crazy?"

We talked until she admitted that it was over and done with, and then couldn't get off the phone quick enough.

Knoxville was my next city, and I decided to drive near the University of Tennessee campus and find a hole-in-the-wall pizza joint for lunch. Knoxville is a city built on hills. It seems like everywhere you look the road is rising or dipping down. Some people refer to it as a redneck San Francisco.

The downtown is different, and the campus kind of sprawls through it. I was enjoying sightseeing when it happened.

Two plain, white, Ford vans skidded to a stop about a quarter of a mile in front of an open air market, and six heavily armed men dressed I n Muslim barb complete with head scarves, jumped out and started shooting. Screaming replaced shopping, and it was like watching a "B" action movie, in real life.

'You Have Got To Be Kidding, ' I thought as the terrorist attack unfolded right before my eyes.

Without thinking, I floored the Lexus and drilled the driver of van number one. He never saw me coming, and didn't get off a shot as the front bumper crushed his women-and- children-killing, scum sucking, goat humping, terrorist body across the hood of his van and into the street.

Everything happened so quickly that I was the only one taking counter action.

Two shooters turned and started hosing down the Lexus with their automatic rifles. It would have been a great idea, except that I had jumped out, grabbed four extra magazines, and discovered that the dead terrorist thoughtfully left his automatic rifle nearby, which I snatched up and used to return fire.

They were not particularly professional terrorists, and I took three more down while they tried to cope with an intended victim that didn't just stand, stare, and die. By the time they organized to concentrate fire at me, I was able to use the front wheel and engine of the van as protection.

Lying flat, I took out one more by shooting under the van and hitting him around the kneecap. His screams were unearthly, and that helped throw off the remaining two killers.

The rifle was empty, but my Glock was loaded, and the brief delay got the two live shooters thinking I was out of luck.

With savage yells they ran right at me...

 
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