MAIN TRAILS
- BORN UNDER A BAD SIGN (front page)
- In The Time of Losing It All (blog, paradigms & observations)
- Wilderness Survival Skills Prophecy (blog, spirit & visions)
- The Lost Cache Journals (blog, life & times)
- Visions of Paradise (short stories, fiction & non)
- When The Candle Flickers (poems & vinettes)
- PRIMITIVE VOLITION (novella, fiction)
- Table Of Contents
- Author Bio
- Contact
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BORN UNDER A BAD SIGN (front page) 
Primitive Volition Chapter 3
Primitive Volition Chapter 3 | Primitive Volition Chapter 3 |
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Not far to the west, at least when measured at 125 knots, rotors cut the healing sky. Harnessed in soft seats the passengers sat alone together, putting their own interpretations to the rattle and hum of a billion angry molecules careening, and colliding in a million unnatural ways. They gazed from the warm interior oblivious to the harsh realities, yet not immune to the awesome beauty, nor the vastness of the frontier they leisurely invaded. The pilot after three tours in ‘Nam had made his way to Alaska, and in the many years since had become known as the best chopper pilot in the north. Long ago his polished ebony head had earned him the title Eightball. He liked the name. And everybody liked him. The State Troopers, a career Sargent and eager-faced young rookie of the Fish and Wildlife Protection Division had been many times under his canopy. The new order of the changing world had engulfed Alaska way back in the frenzied boom of the Trans-Alaska Pipeline construction. With that a large hatch of bureaucrats and politicians materialized to reap the spoils— To justify their predatory existence they imposed their rule upon the free land, and with the influx of non-frontier Lower Forty-Eight types swarming north for the bonanza, their oily rhetoric held sway in the passing of new law and regulation. Now years later the frontier people, white and Indian alike, were systematically being harassed and outlawed out of all they loved, and indeed, even the last remaining shreds of The Last Frontier. Listening to the Sargent on the intercom bragging to the passenger they’d picked up at the research camp, Eightball bit his words...(THIS EXCERPT IS A TASTE OF THE NOVELLA , PRIMITIVE VOLITION, SOON TO BE OFFERED IN E BOOK FORMAT<br />
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