InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Story of Seven Men ❯ Chapter 2 ( Chapter 2 )

Chapter 2- Tempest

 

Ol' Smokey's got them ears on and he's hot on your trail.

He ain't gonna rest 'til you're in jail.

The music blared through the speakers of a dark blue Kenworth semi hauling a load of lumber down to Abilene, Texas. A slim hand reached over to the volume control turning it up as a melodious voice accompanied the radio.

 

So you got to dodge 'im and you got to duck 'im,
you got to keep that diesel truckin'.
Just put that hammer down and give it hell.

 

Green cat like eyes watched the road as the Kenworth rolled down US Highway 84. Looking in the mirrors on occasion, the female trucker sang with the radio, completely engrossed in the song.

 

East bound and down, loaded up and truckin',
we're gonna do what they say can't be done.
We've got a long way to go and a short time to get there.
I'm east bound; just watch ol' "Bandit" run.

 

As the final bars of the song ended, a white flutter of material caught the trucker's eye. Unable to stop the big rig on a dime, the trucker threw on the Jake break and four-ways as the semi eased onto the shoulder of the road. A quarter mile later, the Kenworth rolled to a halt and the trucker pulled the trailer break to keep the truck from taking off.

 

Jumping from the cab of the truck, the trucker moved down the length of her 53' flat bed trailer and up the side of the road to where the white material fluttered in the wind. Checking both directions for oncoming traffic, the trucker sprinted across the road. Boot heals clicking a little staccato as the trucker ran to the object that lay in the median. What the trucker saw nearly caused her to be sick.

Bankotsu's mangled body lay on the side of the road, breathing weakly. His clothes were ripped, soaked in blood, with bits of flesh sticking on the sleeves. His normally strong and well built chest looked weak and deflated. A huge bruise circled his right eye paired with multiple bruises with purple stains on the exposed skin of his arms and sides and cuts covered his body. The long silky braid had worked loose of its bindings to become mangled and knotted. A thin stream of dried blood had trickled down to the corner of his mouth. From the position of his body his leg looked to be twisted in an unnatural position, suggesting that it was broken.

 

“Damn, buddy. You look pretty fucked up,” a warm mezzo soprano voice mumbled as she moved her hand to Bankotsu's neck, hoping that she'd find a pulse.

 

Shaking her head in wonderment that he was still alive, the trucker looked once more toward the body of the stranger as she commented, “I'd hate to see how messed up the other guy is considering the beating you took.” Gently she reached under his chest, to roll him onto his back so as to drag him back toward her truck. Grunting with the effort of just turning him, she looked once more to where her truck sat along side the highway.

 

“Damn it! I need help,” she growled as she leaned back on her boot heals, knowing that the longer the injured stranger lay out in the afternoon sun the more likely he was to die of dehydration. Taking her flannel shirt off, exposing lean tanned arms and a light gray tank top over a lithe frame, she laid it over the stranger's bruised and battered face. “Here… you need this more than I do,” she soothed before sprinting back to her truck.

 

She flung the door open as she scaled into her rig, only to be greeted by a warning growl from the bunk of her truck. “Not now Coda,” she growled as she grabbed up her CB mic. She listened to the CB for a minute before she keyed the mic, “Break one- seven. This is Tempest and I need a 10-34, over.”

 

Once she released the mic key, a few moments of silence was broken by a cackle of static and an answering tenor voice came over the line. “Break one-seven for Tempest. What's you're 20? Over.”

 

Tempest's eyes searched the road side as she replied, “This is Tempest, and I'm south bound on US 84 about 8 miles south of Post, over.” She looked in her driver side mirror, checking on the stranger as another semi pulled up behind her own rig. A curious look crossed her face as she put the mic away.

 

“Ten-four,” was all that came over the CB before she jumped out of her truck.

 

Moving at a swift jog, Tempest's lean legs moved along the length of her truck as she took in the emerald green semi as she heard the hiss of the trailer breaks. Once she reached the engine compartment of the semi, the driver's side door open. The black jean clad legs descended from the truck as Tempest recognized the driver and called out, “You're the one who answered my call?” she hadn't been expecting this guy, but was grateful none the less.

 

Blue eyes met green as the taller trucker looked at Tempest, taking in her tanned skin, high cheek bones and lush, naturally rosy lips. A lop sided grin crossed his lips as he replied; “You called for help?” his eyes thoroughly enjoying the saucy look he was getting from the female trucker. She'd always had a bit of feistiness in her which he enjoyed pushing her buttons because of. "It's been a long time Tempest." he stated.

 

“Obviously, though we need to hurry, and this isn't the time or place to reminisce Jeremiah.” she replied slightly scolding him, as she moved quickly past the tall trucker, her eyes full of worry for the stranger down the road.

 

A quizzical look crossed the Good Samaritan's face as he followed her curvaceous backside up the side of his truck. “I thought that you needed help with your truck,” he called out teasing her hoping to get a bigger rise out of her as he quickly followed her.

 

“You'd never catch me dead along the side of the road with a broke down truck,” she yelled back as she looked for oncoming traffic before darting out across the road. Kneeling near the stranger once more, she lifted her flannel shirt, hearing a slight groan as the full light of the sun beat on his swollen face.

Darting after the strange girl, Jeremiah saw her kneeling near a body and really became worried. “Who the hell is that?” he asked as he got a bit closer, taking in the beaten to a pulp look of the stranger.

 

Thinking on her feet, unsure of just who the stranger was, Tempest lied, “He's a friend of mine and I need to get him back to my truck.” Looking into her ex's worried eyes, she continued, “If we don't hurry he could die.”

 

“Don't you think that we should call the authorities?” he asked, before moving closer toward the injured stranger, knowing she had a knack of helping wounded animals.

 

Slipping her hands gently under the legs of the injured man, Tempest replied, “No… they'd ask too many questions.” With a shake of his head, Jeremiah grabbed up the stranger by the shoulders and on the count of three, they hurriedly crossed the highway.

 

Quickly they carried the unconscious man down the side of the road to the passenger side of Tempest's truck. Lowering the strangers' boot clad feet to the road's edge, Tempest opened up the passenger door, only to be nearly bowled over by a large black and tan German Shepard.

 

Grabbing the door for support, Tempest glared at her dog that had ran into the nearby scrub brush to relieve her self as she snapped, “Get back here Coda!” Turning her soft brown eyes toward her owner, the Shepard slunk back to where the truck was located, and sat quietly near the passenger side tire.

 

Seeing that her dog wasn't going to run out into traffic, Tempest entered the bunk, and unlatched the door, swinging it to where they could get the stranger onto her waiting bed. She jumped back down to the pavement and held the stranger upright as Jeremiah entered her truck. Within a few minutes, Bankotsu was laid out on his back across the bunk, bleeding slightly from wounds that had opened during his move. Tempest checked on him once more, making sure that he was comfortable.

 

After a few minutes, she moved back to the front of her truck, stepping out the passenger side to the road as Jeremiah asked, “What are you planning to do now?” his eye brow raised.

 

Helping Coda back into the truck, Tempest replied, “Drop my load and go from there.” A quizzical look crossed her face as she thought about his question. Turning her attention to his ruggedly handsome face she asked, “Why do you care?”

 

Leaning toward the woman of his desires, Jeremiah lightly traced the line of her jaw, sending shivers down her spine as he replied huskily, “You're headed my way… I was just thinking… that you and I could… you know…”

 

“Make out like old times?” Tempest replied breathlessly as she fought the urges that raced through her lithe frame.

 

A smirk crossed his lips as he continued, “You read my mind.” In a flash he descended upon her lips, crushing them as he kissed her, his hands moving over her body to come to rest lightly upon her hips, drawing her into his body.

 

Seconds seemed like hours before Tempest pushed against his chest, breaking the seal of their lips as she panted for air. “Not… this time…” she gasped between breaths of air. Pushing him further away as she slammed the passenger side door shut, Tempest continued, “We're over, Jeremiah. Nothing you can do or say will ever change that.”

 

Pounding his fist onto the side of her truck in frustration, Jeremiah replied harshly, “Why not? Why can't we go back to the way things were Tempest?” He followed her around the front of the truck to the driver's side door. Wishfully he watched her curvaceous rear end as she climbed into the cab.

 

Reaching out to grab her door handle, Tempest sighed as she replied, having quelled most of the fire in her gut, “You know why, Jeremiah.”

 

Refusing to let go of the drivers' side door, as Tempest tried to pull it shut, Jeremiah asked, rather softly as his blue eyes searched her equally hurting green ones, “Can't you just try to give us a chance?”

 

Closing her eyes to his penetrating gaze, she replied, “No… not this time.” With a quick jerk, catching her old flame off guard, she slammed the door shut as she slammed the trailer brakes off and moved onto the high way. Jeremiah watched as her rig moved out of sight before he pulled his cell phone from his back pocket.

 

He quickly flipped it open and dialed a number as he walked back toward his own rig. As the phone on the other end picked up, all Jeremiah said was, “I've found him,” before he hung up.

 

 

A few hours later, after Tempest dropped off her trailer load of wood, she backed her rig into a parking spot in front of a hotel room. Palming the key card, Tempest eased out of her truck, knowing that the worse was yet to come. She opened the door to her bunk, grabbing a large black duffle bag as Coda nuzzled her leg, whining slightly. Looking toward the dog, she soothed, “Give me a few minutes… would you?”

 

Shaking her head slightly, Tempest understood the dog's actions, feeling the hunger pangs wrack her stomach as well. After she slung the bag over her shoulder, she headed to the door directly behind her truck, sliding the key card before turning the door. Once she turned the light on in the double bed hotel room, Tempest toasted her bag on the bed farthest from the door. Looking around, she saw that the hardest part had just raised its handsome head.

 

A loud groan resonated from the open door of the bunk, causing Tempest to rush back to the truck, climbing up the side as she peered into the dimly lit compartment. The stranger had rolled onto his injured side from his previously flat position. She looked at his beaten and battered face as her fingers grasped the hem of his pant legs, and booted feet, pulling him as hard as she could from the bunk. Easing him as best she could to his feet, supporting most of his weight across her shoulders as she practically dragged him into the room. Luckily she was fairly strong and didn't have that far to go.

 

With a grunt, Tempest laid him out as best she could across the bed as Coda looked up at her from her spot on the other bed, her head resting against the black duffle bag. As she caught her breath, Tempest looked closer at the wayward stranger, noticing for the first time the muscular toned arms as her eyes wandered from his blood covered hands to the tattered shirt.

 

“What the hell happened?” she thought as she moved toward his legs, gently picking up one booted foot, pulling it and the blood soaked sock off before moving to the other and doing the same. Her eyes wandered up the blood drenched jeans, barely realizing that they had been blue at one point in time through the black stains. She eased onto the bed beside his still unconscious body.

 

Quickly her fingers worked at the stiff leather belt that held the pants to his waist. Once the buckle was removed, she undid the button fly of his jeans, struggling with the blood stiffened denim before she was able to ease them down his body. Keeping her eyes on the pants as she removed them, Tempest nearly gagged on the stench that rolled from the injured body.

 

Once the jeans had been completely removed, trying to quell the urge to vomit what little was left in her stomach; Tempest threw them into the garbage can. Moving the can closer to the bed, she looked upon the half clad stranger, her stomach lurched, and causing her to run into the bathroom as the contents of her rebellious stomach broke for freedom.

 

After a few minutes of leaning over the porcelain god, a wet nose nuzzled her arm as a whimper of worry sounded from her concerned dog. Looking over at her companion, Tempest replied, “I'm okay, Coda. Go back to watching him.” With a slight bark in acknowledgement, Coda moved back out into the main room as Tempest flushed the toilet containing her liberated contents and washed her face of the remains.

 

With a renewed sense of purpose, armed with a clean towels and the first aid kit from her truck, Tempest approached the half naked stranger. Once she saw the wounds on his legs, she quickly got to work, cleaning the blood from around his wounds with Betadine, pouring peroxide into the wounds to clean out any infection before she wrapped them in gaze. A couple of the gun shot wounds she came across, Tempest probed slightly, removing a couple of bullet fragments that had flaked off when he'd been grazed as well as a bullet from his upper thigh.

 

Holding her breath as best she could, Tempest realized that most likely he'd soiled himself, considering the amount of damage he'd taken and the stench coming from his pelvic area. “I hope that he doesn't expect me to give him a freaking sponge bath,” she though sorely as she moved to his torso and the once white blood encrusted tee shirt.

 

Pulling her Buck knife from its sheath at her hip, Tempest made quick work of the bloody remains. Easing the remains from his body, throwing them into the trash with the jeans and socks, her eyes wandered over the well toned chest. Her breath hitched in her throat as her eyes landed upon his right shoulder. Gently almost as if in worship her fingers traced the tattoo of the stranger, who didn't seem all that strange anymore as she continued to look at the image embolden on his arm. A sign of strength power and scarred with a line of blood. Though no words adorn the famed halberd, the only word that came to her lips resonated in her mind, “Banryu.”

 

The stranger shivered slightly in the cold room, drawing Tempest back to the situation at hand. She dressed his wounds as best she could as she dug out the bullet from his back that had luckily only gone a little ways in. Within a half hour of starting her gruesome task, Tempest washed her hands of the stranger's blood, having covered him as best she could. She dried her hands and dug through her own duffle bag in search of a clean set of cloths, wanting to be rid of the stench of blood. Pulling out Coda's dog dish and a can of food she quickly fed her dog as she heated the water in the shower.

 

As the dog downed the canned food, Tempest check the locks on the door, making sure it was secure before she slipped out of her blood blacked jeans, throwing them into the garbage bag as well as her tank top and sport bra before she stalked toward the now warm shower. Tempest leaned against the back wall of the shower as the days events flooded through her mind. “Who is he? Why does he have gramp's tattoo?” kept roving as she quickly washed her hair and the rest of her body, ridding herself of the stench of his blood and excrement.

 

Once she'd cleaned herself at least three times to be rid of the stench, Tempest stepped out of the shower, and dried off as she moved from the bathroom to her bed, oblivious of the sleeping stranger in the bed across from her. Quickly she threw on a pair of loose fitting shorts and tank top before she pulled her shoulder length blond hair back into a pony tail. As she slipped into a pair of running shoes, Tempest looked at her loyal companion as she said, “Watch over him and don't let anyone else in here.”

 

Knowing that Coda was as vicious as she was loyal toward strangers, other than those she was commanded to protect, Tempest grabbed up the garbage bag of clothes and tied it shut as she moved back toward her truck, locking it in the tool box before heading to the Wal-mart store that was across the street from her hotel.

 

 

Bankotsu walked down a darkened corridor, his hands trembling as he turned a corner. Blood slicked floors were littered with bodies as he eased closer to the action. He stumbled in the dimly lit hallway, his hand against a warm slick chest that struggled to breath, blood trailing down an open mouth, calling out his name in agony. Looking into the violet eyes of his beloved brother and fellow comrade, Bankotsu gasped as he saw him lying in a pool of blood. The marks upon his face contrasted sharply with his pale, blood drained complexion.

 

“Jak,” he murmured as unwanted tears eased into his eyes. “Who did this to you?” The man just gasped trying to utter a word, only to be cut short by the roar of a gun. Brains, blood and the back of his skull, splattered Bankotsu as he looked from the dead form of his brother to the smoking gun aimed at his head.

 

“You,” he seethed, only to see a wicked gleam of pearly white teeth in the form of a grotesque smile on the hidden face of the killer. As he lunged toward the executioner a final shot rang out, and he landed mere inches from the man of his torment. Pain raced through his body, awakening the dreaming man into a scream of terror.