Marina's+Manuscript


 * Hi there! Marina Scott here!**


 * First off, I’d like to thank you for reading my manuscript. I promise to try and make it as thrilling, suspenseful, and humorous as possible. Keep in mind though, that its been almost two years since my last novel (“Addy’s Eyes”), and made the transition over to manga (Japanese style comics). So if things get a little too unreal for you, just rough me up a bit. Okay?**


 * Secondly, this is a sci-fi action/comedy. I would probably rate it PG or even PG-13 for language and a little bit of crude humor. It is directed at older teen to young adult readers, so please mature when reading this. Now that you have been forewarned, please do not judge or shake fingers at me without at least noticing the quality of my writing. : )**


 * So once again, thank you, and please enjoy this reading of “Sunrise”.**


 * Marina Kathleen Scott**
 * Marina K. Scott**

= = =__**Sunrise**__= =Chapter One= =“ This is the day that the Lord hath made,” said Michael Baxter, pouring water into the coffee maker. He made sure the grounds were correctly in place and snapped the lid shut, “ Let us rejoice and be glad in it.” As the coffee maker began gurgling, Michael leaned against the edge of the kitchen sink and stared out the window. At seven forty in the morning, the sun had already laid a warm, yellow glow on the leaves of trees and sides of houses. Dew drops shimmered on the neatly cut lawns on the block. Undisturbed, one of nature’s beauties. Through the treetops he could see the sky had become a pale blue as opposed to the hazy purple color he’d seen when he woke up this morning. Not only had the sun and the sky woken up, but the people who lived under it had begun to stir as well. A senior in a red jumpsuit jogged by on the sidewalk. Mr.Lennings was proceeding to his car next door, coffee mug in hand, newspaper tucked under his arm. Across the street, little Mrs.Trump was hobbling out onto the white porch of her pastel colored house, her cat Muffin the calico behind her. While a nice and quiet old widow, she once scolded Michael for pruning stray branches off a tree in his own yard. ‘Trees have feelings too, dontcha know!’ she’d said, wagging her bony finger at him. Now she was checking her birdfeeder, her cat Muffin hoping a bird would miraculously fall from it to within his grasp.= =The morning had begun, and at least in this part of New York City, all was quiet and as it should be. Michael breathed a deep sigh, the aroma of coffee filling his senses, “ This is the day…”= =“ Is that your catch phrase?” Michael turned to see Karen walk hurriedly into the kitchen, carrying her overstuffed make-up case in one hand, tying up her auburn hair in a messy bun with the other. Michael laughed.= =“ What makes you say that?” She plopped the bag down on the island, and pulled a handheld mirror from it.= =“ Well, you do say it every morning.”= =“ Its good to remind yourself of it. Aren’t you glad for it?”= =“ Hmm. I’d be more glad if you’d share some of that premium roast.” Michael turned to the coffee maker, which was now done doing it’s job. He poured two cups and set one down beside her. She took it black. “ Fanks!” she said with a hair tie in her mouth, now using both hands to assemble the mess that was her hair. Michael stopped to watch her. Karen Walker, Michael’s sister-in-law, was a petite twenty-seven year old, who was always moving on to the next thing in life. At one moment following the latest trends, the next on a supposed journey of self discovery. Michael still cringed at the memory of hours of endless motivational tapes and primal scream therapy! The latest and maybe most long lasting development, a position at a hair salon in the city, had her sporting a soft pink blazer. She was dressed the part, all except for the mangled bun on the back of her head.= =Karen noticed Michael’s absent minded stare and said with annoyance, “ What are you staring at?”= =“ For a hairstylist, that’s certainly an interesting take on a bun.” Karen shot him a sharp look and proceeded to torture her hair with another onslaught. Michael chuckled and finished preparing his coffee. One fourth Irish crème coffee creamer and a tablespoon of sugar. Just the way he liked it.= =“ Shouldn’t you be out protecting the peace or something? Mr.Cop?” Michael was a policeman for the NYPD. He’d been on the force for six years now, recruited in 2004, after he and his daughter had moved in with Karen.= =After the accident.= =“ Haven’t you looked outside? It’s already safe.”= =“ Hmm. What about the back alleys?” Karen began speaking in a dark, hushed tone, slowly walking up on him, “ Crime lords, drug tycoons, and organized crime? Lurking, in the shadows?” Michael furrowed his brow and tightened the corners of his mouth.= =“ Come on Karen. It’s my day off.”= =“ Day off?”= =“ Well, I’m on call.” Truth was, Michael could hardly ever get the time off. He could barely manage holidays and recitals and such.= =“ That’s because you’re such a good cop.” Karen observed her pinned up hair in the mirror. Unsatisfied with her vain attempt, Karen slipped out the hair tie and let it hang carefree over her shoulders. She gave her scalp a quick massage, “ Besides, you should be spending some time doing other things. Get a hobby, a dog… a girl.”= =“ So that’s what you’re getting at. Now how many times do I have to tell you, I’m not interested.”= =“ Aw come on Michael! You’re a sweet, sensitive, middle aged working man. Get out there and show yourself off!”= =“ Why don’t you follow your own advice? Find a man. Start a family. Have some kids.”= =“ Yuck.”= =“ Oh come on! You love kids.”= =“ Right.”= =“ You love Shelbie, don’t you?”= =“ Well of course I do! But I’m living the bachelorette’s life! The whole… boy meets girl, happy… mom thing isn’t me.” “ What is?” Another sharp glance, before Karen slipped on her sunglasses. Michael shook his head with a smile.= =“ Look, Karen. I apreciate your concern-”= =“ Ha! Concern?” she interjected, “ Not at all. The sooner you find yourself a girl and move out, the sooner I can start having some real company over.” When there was no sharp come-back, Karen looked up at Michael. He stood straight and still, gripping his coffee cup in his hands. His dark, thin bangs hung down in his downcast eyes. Karen felt a twang of shame in her lack of sympathy. Michael disliked himself enough already for needing to rely on her so much already, even if they were family. Things had been hard the last couple years, and now she’d gone and said something to open up the still tender sore.= =Karen stepped over toward Michael and gently turned his face with her palm to hers. She felt her heart beat an extra time when he looked at her with sad puppy-dog eyes and a soft boyish face, while still having a strong jaw. She pecked him lightly on the cheek. “ Look big guy. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”= =“ It’s okay. Really.”= =“ But I am serious. Someone else’s company might be just what you need. You’re too nice a guy to hold everything inside like you do. A gun and a badge might protect the people around you and your body, but might not be enough to protect your heart.” She patted his face and returned to rummaging through her bag, leaving Michael standing there in thought. When his life had been turned upside down, he had reached for the gun and holster to protect his little girl and possibly his sanity. Using them as an excuse to exact a degree of retribution on what had threatened it in the first place. During this time he had also fallen back on his faith, with Karen there as an extra and much appreciated crutch. Even when she’d lost so much along with him.= =“ Thank you.” he said with a smile. Karen stared at him a moment then smiled back,= =“ Don’t get all sympathetic with me mister. I’m busy keeping my own head above water, thank you very much!” Michael returned to the window to enjoy his coffee, and Karen glanced at her watch, “ Oh shoot! I’ve gotta get going.” She slung her bag over her shoulder and rolled up a magazine from the counter, “ Tell the birthday girl I’m bringing her gift home tonight.” Michael watched a man and woman kissing each other goodbye on the other side of the street.= =“ Do you really think I’ll be okay out there Kare’? In the dating ring I mean?” Karen gave him a quick once over; tall, muscular, and handsome, then smiled.= =“ You’re a catch with your personality alone.” Her smile became a mischievous grin, “ And…”= =“ And?”= =“ And, you have a cute butt.” she said, swatting his behind playfully with the rolled magazine. She laughed and then left the kitchen, humming ‘Happy Birthday’. Michael blew on his coffee.= =“ Little devil…” Michael himself checked the time. Seven fifty. In two long strides he called through the kitchen entryway and down the hall, “ Shelbie! Hurry up! The bus will be here any minute!”=
 * By Marina K. Scott**

=* * *=

=“-and there has to be vanilla icing, but no flowers!” Shelbie was saying as Michael walked her to the curb in front of the curb to wait for the bus. What had taken her so long was her excitement in what to wear on her special day. He’d gone into her room to retrieve her, and found shirts and dresses strewn about everything. A complete wreck. In the end, she’d chosen to wear her MaryJanes, a yellow sundress with lace fringe, a soft white sweater jacket, and bright yellow pompom hair ties in her pigtails. As she walked, her blonde pigtails bounced up and down in thick ringlets. So cute.= =He was still staring and smiling when they reached the curb.= =“-and the candy letters have to spell out-” Shelbie ceased her birthday demands when she saw he wasn’t truly listening. She stomped her foot impatiently, sticking out her lip, “ Hey! Are you even listening to me mister?” Michael squated down to eyelevel with her.= =“ I know kiddo. You’ve told me everything a hundred times. And I promise, your birthday will be perfect.” She smiled, “ This is a big one, isn’t it?”= =“ You bet! Seven years old!”= =“ What? No, not you! There’s no way you could be seven.”= =“ Is to!”= =“ But you’re so little! Thought you were five.”= =“ Hmph! I’m seven mister, and I’m as tall as you! See?” she said, stretching her arm out in front of her and putting her hand on top of his head. Michael gazed at her lovingly and she giggled. The moment was cut short by the wheeshing sound of the approaching bus’s air brakes. It stopped just in front of them and Michael stood. Shelbie stuck out her lip and turned to him as the bus doors opened, “ Can’t you take me to school in the squad car?” He ruffled her hair gently,= =“ Maybe next year.” She took his hand off of her head and just held it, swaying slightly and smiling up at him in a silly way. Michael pulled her close and hugged her tight. “ I love you Shelbie.”= =“ I love you too daddy.” Shelbie let go of Michael and got on the bus.= =“ Hi Mr.Baxter!” all the children on the bus said in unison, waving with their faces out of the windows. He waved hello.= =“ Are you gonna go beat up some bad guys today?” asked one boy.= =“ I’ll do my best.” The brakes wheeshed again and the bus began to move. The children waved goodbye, the last hand he saw being Shelbie’s as the bus disappeared down the road. Michael stood staring after the bus for a while even after it had gone.= =There she went. Shelbie. Off on her new adventure as a seven year old for the first time… Seven. Had it really been that long already? Six years ago she’d been just a baby, and he a broken man. Still she, along with faith and Karen, had been an inspiration. The little angel he had had to become strong for and protect. All he had left of another’s legacy. Another’s love.= =Michael suddenly felt eyes on him. Glancing across the street he saw Mrs.Trump squinting at him with suspicious eyes. Micheal smiled back nervously and turned slowly, walking back into the house under her awkward stare…= = = =* * *= = = =Three o’clock. Rush hour in New York City. Dozens of cars and busses and taxis crammed together at the intersection, moving two inches approximately every sixty seconds. Angry commuters honked and blared their horns in vain, yelling obsenities and shaking fists. Each one’s day was more important than the other’s, but that was how the world worked. To top it all off, mid-August heat blazed down on the sea of crome and hot tempers. All this Michael observed from his position on the sidewalk, standing by a small jewelry stand, Starbucks coffee in hand. He sighed through his nose.= =After Michael had gone inside earlier, he’d sat and read the paper for a while, then cleaned Shelbie’s room for her, and gone out for the day. An hour at the gym, lunch at a small diner on fifth and Broadway; at which he received several flattering compliments from a pair of young waitresses, relaxing at the park, and now watching other New Yorkers and enjoying a cup of coffee. All the while driving the police cruzer. So far there hadn’t been any calls or disturbances, and Michael hoped it would stay that way.= =“ Mr.Baxter?” Michael turned around to the young woman sitting behind the jewelry stand, “ It’s finished.”= =“ Oh. Thanks Tasha.” Tasha was a young, African-American woman, who’d been victim to an abusive relationship. Upon her gathering enough courage to call for help, it had been Michael and his squad who’d moved in for the rescue. Since then, Tasha had opened up a small jewelry stand, and she and Michael had stayed in touch. He saw her on his route everyday, and sometimes they would have a chat. But today he needed something special.= =She handed Michael the piece of work she’d finished, and he stared lovingly at it as it glittered in his palm. On a silver chain hung a silver heart medallion, a pink heart shaped gem inlayed in the center of it. Small diamond gems lined the silver edges, and made it twinkle brightly.= =“ It’s beautiful.” said Michael. Tasha smiled proudly.= =“ It’s my best work. These gems will never come loose. I gaurantee it.”= =“ I believe you. I know she’ll love it.”= =“ I can gift wrap it for you.”= =“ That would be nice. Thanks.” As Tasha wrapped the necklace in a small white box, Michael withdrew his wallet from his pocket. When she handed him back the present, he handed her several bills of money. Tasha’s eyes went wide as she counted,= =“ Two, three hundred?… But this is too much!” Michael smiled.= =“ Quality work deserves quality pay.” Tasha stared at the money, her eyes growing moist, when Michael heard feedback come in on the radio,= =“ Fzzt! Come in…Fzzt! Is there a cruzer in the vicinity?” Michael reached through the open window of his car and picked up the radio,= =“ Michael Baxter. Officer. What’s the disturbance?”= =“ It’s a 211. Armed robbery in progress. First National.”= =“ En-route. 10-76.”= =“ 10-4.” The signal ended and Michael hung up the radio. He straightened his jacket and turned back to Tasha, “ Guess my breaks over.” He rounded the front of the car and stopped at the driver’s side, “ There’s a robbery and they need my help, but thank you, again, for the necklace. I’ll be seeing you around.” Tasha looked up at him, smiling wide with a nod,= =“ God bless you, Michael.” He winked at her and got into his car. He flipped the lights on top of the car on, and pulled away from the curb. The siren blaring echoed off of the tall buildings, and traffic parted for Michael to get through…= = = =* * *= = = =Just arriving on the scene, Michael could feel the tension in the air. Close to a dozen other officers were calming spectators and corralling them behind barricades and police vehicles. They were all a safe distance from the bank itself, where Michael could see figures shifting around behind the glass windows, and hear screams and shouts from inside. Hostages. Standing at the barricade as well, was Chief officer Pat Brandson, the entire New York SWAT team positioned behind him. He held a large megaphone in one hand as he spoke into another smaller radio. Negotiations weren’t going well it seemed, and the situation was close to pandemonium.= =Michael swiftly exited his vehicle, slipping on his body armor vest. As he approached the policeman guarding the way, he flashed his badge and proceeded to Officer Brandson. He was cursing and throwing away his small radio when he reached him.= =“ Who are you?!” he snapped at Michael.= =“ Officer Michael Baxter. I was just called on scene.”= =“ Well there’s not much you can do here!” he sneered at Michael, but he decided not to hold it against him. Brandson must have been under a lot of stress. Anyone would lash out. Even Michael.= =“ Just how bad is it?”= =“ Six suspects, over twenty hostages. Their ringleader is skittish, and the situation is highly unstable. We’re treading on thin ice here.”= =“ Has he made any demands?”= =“ None yet. We’re sending a man up with a radio in hopes that he’ll calm down enough to talk to us.” Inching slowly up the concrete steps, a SWAT team member held a portable radio. He stopped at the top step and set the device down as the suspect inside began screaming something at him, only ten feet away. Both Michael and Brandson saw him point something at the officer, and Brandson jerked the megaphone to his lips, “ McPartland! Get out of there! Do you hear me?! I said get out now!” The SWAT officer turned on his heal and flew back down the steps, a startling crash following. The glass windows of the bank shattered, as automatic gunfire rained from inside. There were screams and shouts as remaining pedestrians fled to safety behind the barricades. Michael flinched as Brandson turned around to bark at the SWAT team, “ Team Alpha! Move in clear right! Try to get inside and neutralize that gunfire-”= =“ AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!” They were all silenced by a terrified scream from the closed off area. Only a few yards from the doors of the bank where gunfire blazed unceasingly, a young woman crouched clutching her head behind a squad car. The bullets ricocheted loudly off it’s surface, and then the car sank as the shooter took out one of the tires. She screamed again, “ Somebody help me! Please! Please!”= =“ Damn! How did a civilian get caught out there?!” Michael stared on in wide-eyed horror as bullets began to break through the shell of the car right next to her. She ducked lower.= =“ AAAAHH!” A SWAT member came up to Brandson,= =“ Sir! The other suspects are covering with semi-automatics! Our team is trying but we can’t get any closer!”= =“ Are any of the hostages dead?”= =“ Not that we know of sir. But we can’t tell through all the gunfire.”= =“ Worry about that later. For now we have to get that civilian out of there. Organize a rescue group. Now!” Several more bullets breached the hull by her ear.= =“ God, I don’t want to die!” Michael reached for Brandson’s holster, and before he could react, snatched the gun out and lept over the barricade.= =“ Baxter? Where the hell are you going?! Stop!” Ducking low, Michael weaved and ducked behind the couple police cars parked before where she crouched screaming. Stalling only a moment to avoid more rounds, Michael made the final dash to the woman’s side. She was crying hysterically= =“ Please! Please! I don’t want to die! I don’t want to-”= =“ Shh! Shh!” he tried reassuring her, “ It’ll be okay. I’m going to get you out of here. But I need you to stay calm.” She screamed again as more bullets embedded themselves in the metal behind her. Michael took her by the shoulders and forced her to look at him, “ I promise!… You’ll be safe.” Her puffy eyes met and locked with his. Michael’s gaze stayed steady and he remained calm and patient, ignoring Brandson’s shouts and protests. The woman finally stiffled her sobs, and nodded, “ Alright then.”= =Michael, still crouched down, peered around the front of the car. The gunfire had stilled for the moment. The suspects were probably needing to reload “ Okay. Now is a good time.” He turned back to the woman and began to unfasten his body armor, when there was another burst of gunfire. A SWAT man trying to reach them was forced to back off by someone from inside. Michael frowned, sweat forming on his brow. Judging by their skittishness and early loss on the situation Michael could tell these guys were rookies, but they were serious. They were willing to do whatever it took to get away with this. Their reckless actions were going to get someone killed.= =And that pissed Michael off.= =Michael finished undoing his armor and handed it over to the woman,= =“ Here. Put this on. Quick.”= =“ But if you go out there you’ll-”= =“ There isn’t enough time. If they open rapid fire again those bullets will blow through this car and us, with or without body armor.” She searched his eyes frantically for hope of any other option, but Michael could offer none. Sniffling, she pulled on the armor and he helped her fasten it correctly. Michael took out his hand held communicator and turned it on,= =“ Brandson. Come in Brandson. This is Michael Baxter.” Brandson ripped his communicator from his belt and began screaming into it,= =“ What the hell do you thing you’re doing?! Are you crazy?!”= =“ Listen. I need you to get some men ready to meet us. On my count, have them-”= =“ YOUR COUNT?! What kind of crack cop are you?! And who do you think you are trying to give me orders?!” This man’s ego must have been huge, Michael thought.= =“ Listen Officer Brandson. The situation is now extremely serious, and as a Sergeant, it’s my job to make split decisions like these.” Michael heard Brandson catch his breath on the other end,= =“ S-Sergeant? You mean…”= =“ I’m your crack superior.” Brandson sighed with frustration.= =“ B-But, you can’t-”= =“ Please,” Michael’s voice was urgent, and pleading, “ If we don’t move this civilian, those semi-automatics will tear her apart when they next open fire. This has to be done Officer… On my count.” There was a brief silence, then Brandson’s reluctant sigh.= =“ Yes, sir.” Michael turned to the woman. She stared at him wide-eyed, like a frightened rabbit. Michael gave her a reassuring smile, even though he himself was uneasy with the situation, then began counting into the communicator,= =“ One…Two…” Before he finished, Brandson froze with a sudden realization,= =“ Wait a minute! He told me he was an Officer! Baxter! I’ll-”= =“ Three!” Michael gripped the woman’s arm, and as careful as he could, pulled her up with him as he dashed. At the same time, four SWAT team members broke through the barricade toward them, and at the same time, one of the suspects noticed the sudden development.= =“ Dammit! Shoot them! Shoot!” An accomplice leveled his gun out the window at Michael and the woman.= =“ Look out!” came Brandson’s cry, echoing for Michael as time seemed to almost stop. People were running for them, but the gun was on them. It was no contest which would win the race. Michael had to think fast. He shoved the woman away from him toward the barricades, reached for Brandson’s gun, and whipped around to face the bank-= =B-BANG!= =Noise. The ear splitting ring of the two gunshots were almost indistinguishable from each other.= =Screams. There were screams from the crowd and from the woman, now being hauled to safety by the SWAT team.= =Shock. There was shock on both Brandson’s face, and on the face of the standing suspects.= =Pain. From his chest, as Michael fell backward. For a moment almost weightless. He saw the other gunner fall as well, before smashing the pavement hard. Dazed. Cold. Dizzy… Michael’s eyes were suddenly very heavy, and he felt a powerful urge to sleep. The fading screams and shouts didn’t matter. His bleeding chest and fingers were going numb. All the cares of his world were slipping away. Unmissed. Unwanted…Until he saw the small white box that had flown from his pocket lying on the blood stained pavement beside him…=

=__END CHAPTER ONE...__=