"Genetic Memories"

by W. Joe Saxton

Copyright ©2003
ISBN: 0-87714-854-6 eBook edition
ISBN: 0-87714-316-1 PB edition

All rights reserved by Denlinger's Publishers, including the right to reproduce this electronic book, or portions thereof, in any form, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to the memory of my wife Cathy whom I loved and lost to cancer
and in honor of my wife Janet who taught me that life is still worth living.

THE AUTHOR

W. Joe Saxton was born in Alton, IL. on April 13th, 1954. He has been active in education and government affairs. He has served on the Automotive Technician Standards Committee for the Illinois Occupational Skills and Credentialing Council. Since 1989, Mr. Saxton has taught both Automotive Computer Controls and Engine Performance classes at Lewis and Clark Community College in Godfrey, IL. He has written both technical and general interest articles for the Automotive Messenger, a trade newspaper that serves the Greater St. Louis area. He has also taught classes on automotive emissions repair in cooperation with both the Illinois EPA and the Missouri Department of Natural Resources. Mr. Saxton serves on the Advisory Committee for the Automotive Department at Lewis and Clark Community College. He spent twelve years with a Fortune 500 company in a managerial position before starting his own corporation.

Mr. Saxton is the President of C.A.T.S. Inc., a company which, through its different divisions, diagnoses and repairs vehicles, provides training to the automotive repair industry, and runs a retail store. He produces a quarterly newsletter for his corporation.

His church and family life are very active. He is an avid photographer and a prolific writer. He and his wife Janet have both been Sunday school teachers. He currently serves as the Vice President of his church council. Through the unexpected twists and turns that life sends to all of us, he is the proud father and stepfather of nine children. Those children have blessed the Saxton's with ten grandchildren (so far). Thanksgiving at the Saxton house is quite an affair. The family lives in Wood River, IL.

THE BOOK

Have you ever had a nightmare so real you jumped out of bed in a cold sweat? Have you ever experienced déjà vu? Jim Thompson has. Immerse yourself in a copy of Genetic Memories for the adventure of a lifetime.

A Glimpse Of Genetic Memories

Sometime in the 1930's
Somewhere in the United States

The sun beat down on the dusty road. Waves of heat made the horizon shimmer and dance. Breathing was a chore as sweat rolled down between her breasts and onto her swollen belly…

As she turned to look at the man on her left, she knew he was trying to drive as gently as possible.

"Are you okay", he asked with deep concern?

"I'll be all right when we get to ma's house. I know you're tryin to be careful but this road is killin me," she moaned. "Got any idea how much longer till we git there?"

I'd guess about three more hours," he said.

Looking down, she opened the neck of her dress. It had helped some when she took off her underwear back aways and now she blew air down onto her chest. It felt cool and refreshing …

A couple of miles up the road she noticed a cloud of dust on the road below them. As they approached the top of the hill she was able to perceive that the dust cloud was caused by a pickup truck coming up from behind…

When they got to within a few hundred feet she turned to tell Mike that they were drawing near.

"I already saw them coming," he said as she turned to speak. "I'm gonna pull over up there where it gets a little wider and let them pass."

He slowed the car and pulled over to the right as far as possible without going into the ditch…

The driver of the truck had also slowed down. She figured it was just common courtesy so as not to stir up too much dust when they went around.

The car was still moving, though not more than 10 MPH when the pickup pulled up next to them. The vehicles now moved along side by side on the old dirt road…

Finally Mike could stand no more.

"Can I help you with something?" he yelled to Mr. Greenteeth.

Those were Mike's last words. Greenteeth never uttered a word but raised a sawed off shotgun, pointed it out the truck window and cut loose with both barrels. Mike's head, which exploded like watermelon, stopped most of the shot but she felt several pieces enter her right shoulder and neck …The car drifted to the right, slammed into the ditch and tilted at a forty five-degree angle…

Fighting off first the urge to scream and then the urge to puke, she began to run. After only about twenty feet she felt a crushing blow to the back of her neck. Her legs gave out and the ground rushed up to greet her… She had no strength left to resist as Greenteeth pulled her over on her back. He grabbed hold of her dress at the neck and ripped it down the middle. One button hit her in the eye as it was catapulted through the air.

"Hey Charlie, guess what, this girl ain't got no undies on," Greenteeth yelled.

"That's cause she was expecting you," laughed Charlie

Greenteeth threw the two halves of her dress back away from her body.

"Damn, but you do look good Missy," he almost whispered to her.

She felt him pull her legs apart and slam into her. The pain was horrendous. It only took him a few minutes and he was done. Exhausted, he lay across her belly and roughly licked her face.

"Hey, would you please hurry up and kill that bitch so you can give me a hand over here," Charlie yelled.

Charlie's orders to Greenteeth brought reality back into crystal clear focus. Knowing her life was over; she became white hot with anger and hatred. While Greenteeth still had his head turned talking to Charlie, she raised her head and bit down hard on his ear. She could feel the gristle popping and could hear his screams as she continued to grind her teeth back and forth on his ear lobe. He reached into his belt and pulled his revolver. Feeling it against her temple, she ground that much harder in a final act of defiance. The noise from the gun and the tremendous pressure in her head came simultaneously.

He jumped up, shook his head, and stubbed his big toe on the leg of the bed.

"Son of a bitch," he exclaimed.

"What's the matter honey?" his wife asked.

"Son of a bitch, son of a bitch," was all she could get out of him as he hopped around in the dark holding his foot.

She reached over to his side of the bed even though she knew he had already gotten up. As her fingers searched in the darkness she found the sheets wet, thoroughly soaked.

Jim finally let go of his foot long enough to flip the light switch. She grimaced and blinked as her eyes adjusted to the light. When they finally cleared the sight before her was quite a shock. Jim leaned on the wall next to the light switch. His brown hair was matted with sweat in the front and sticking straight out on both sides. Even in the cool room, sweat had beaded up and rolled down his bare chest in riverlets. His pajama bottoms, the only thing he ever wore to bed, clung to his legs as if he had just gotten out of a pool. Walking to the middle of the room, he turned in circles as he ran his hands through his hair. When he turned his back to her, she could see his butt as the wet pajamas clung to his body. His eyes, normally small and set back into their sockets, were wide and bulging.

"You had the nightmare again, didn't you?" she asked.

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