David spent three-days’ journey in the back-roads of Georgia. Enjoying the scenery, fishing and walking back-country-trails. He had time to think. To ponder his recent actions, events and intentions. He was on the run, yet he’d led a docile-life. As much as he’d accomplished, so did he leave unwasted-in ordination... The occurring-endeavors had provided him with money, a truck and supplies for time far ahead. He had little to worry about. Yet there were concerns, considerations and personal-advisements. He dealt with-it before, many times; yet against the authorities, had never happened. Still he knew as the ‘outsider’, now. He started-to focus on the better-things, in life. No; it wasn’t the importance of conformation, in elision... He was-functioning, under a precipice-of-fruition. He-worked ideally, on fractions and castings. Posing-ideas and issues, were fruitless. He’d always worked-independently. So it had worked in his-favor. Understanding, that friction was worse than fortune; he realized this while a young. But also, that the authorities, he once held in good-stead, was now in-violation. He had now violated.
He was a criminal and a murderer exacting, legal-apprehension. He’d been a man-of-orders commanding others. And now, the definition of who he was, was beyond legitimacy. If David was in therapy, he’d be considered bi-polar with retentive-tendencies. Yet his retentive-success obviously, played a role in-his condition, today; com-puncture, duly and capable though he was, his inner-compunction had lead to his utter-failure and revulsion. This reality; the reality he had raced and revolved-around him... Being a man of officer, he knew duty yet recourse alluded-of murder; marked him for life, was he responsible, or had the ’‘system’, failed him. His realized, honor and inhibition were two-sides of an in-evitable coin... Most-officers had a certain parallel-to follow... This was a farce-reality... Most understand the sacrifice and ultimate demise-of one who upheld the‘code’. This-was compensatory, and an ’‘omen’; each man utterly, met his own-demise... David had rested longer than most. His once glorified-role was now a divulging-of forged-declarative, left to device... He could chose dozens of reactions, enacts and combines-causing; yet he chose reprise, uncomprise which held-up so far.
In war, as any time the forces spoke for themselves living-by increments, was a way-of-life. Each man-choosing his own way, in-time. The strange-adjunct made men determined-to survive and function. Ideally, an officer followed-orders and did all he could to carry out his mission. It was no different now. He reported-to a series of chaotic-ventures, realizing failure was possibly the only, outcome. The fault and blame-oriented survival, no-matter what in-efficiency or duty. He knew, the HQ was conceding to overt-him. His substance had always been ordered. Being-both endowed, and encouraged... Neither his interests or ideas were substrates-of alluding. Being brought into the rewards and reliance-on a discipline. He-was thus, an actual-of his own fortune and deeded, sensing-to in misfortune. His history, was a straight-line incursion of ardent, apposition and appliance. No true civiljudgment. Which could have been how reckless-abandon, had taken-shape. As no-officer took himself too serious, because this was a certain-end. Implication had many aspects-’civil’ and dissipate... Most, quieted their hearts and minds through duty, trial and alleviation; this could have been how instinctually, he came to no-ruling, deficit...
Yet no, now-’defining’, comported to living a distant-reality. He-understood that abject, fact... Knowing the qualms of self-delusion were ‘sated’ of self-destruction, in honored-men... Though, he-killed; the men, who had reached the level of government-agency were men-of impeccable. They were responsible for more than their share of commitment. Yet the impress-of-honor and compress of-duty had come to cross ‘critical-lines’ and David knew-this. He knew that, as he crossed into North Carolina coastal-roads the things he’d once understood and held close-were nonexistent... Plausible, in fact made him conscious of past, and of fate. The once diode between the two-meant the causing toward-convening and intimidation. Yet would this be the same without the backing of a commission by those in-propagate. He knew, the answer-lay convocatively, in mental-missive; death, desire and delusion. Bo Jon wondered this, and if only he had realized it-in definitive... He was heading West back through Texas, than Arizona. He had stages to plot. He had enumerate ideals-and advantages, in a tandem. He knew his-concise, conjecture were orifice around what could have been redeeming, calculations...
A finite-fissure to bring to a uniting, commiseration. Para-normal, was the cuing-resound of David’s inter-play in adjunctive... Performance began to overture-implement, and authorial, the many facets, of forgings and follow-ups, were being-forms of either, fortuity. Men-of-honor and embellish, framed, earn man’s manifest and was now, the elegiac-ism of ornate, artifice. The next-move each-made was the quintessential-orientation of ’evince-conscription’. The element-of auspice was danger and demise, outlined-in any man. Yet these two-were on opposite sides with how upheld in degree. Credibility put one-man outside of law and the other, as its hand... Bo Jon knew his limits and David averted them. Bo headed to Arizona hoping his quarry left clues; evidence that he-existed. Somewhere along the roads, he-left unmistakable-clues; cues-of reverential. He could re-find, David’s actions. An implication-of-’will’. ...Bo appeared-at a hiring-office. Not upscale, out-where the worn and ‘caustic’ could find ‘decent’ employment and turn his life around and afford a place to rest, something to drink, and food. He observed every-aspect. The many people, what they-did and when they went to work.
The obvious, near-obvious and occluded. Much could be understood and to affect that understanding were the leads to ‘insight’: to what happened-to David. He-detailed a line of judgment and assessment was gathered for further-data. Realizing David, must have been empowered-by the circumstance. He tried to check off and having plausible-in how he thought. The heeding with which David re-a-fying his-actions leaded to the astute side. He had to think with a sense of sequences, traits and events; which logically lead in some-direction. In Bo’s planning he couldn’t say if David was desperate or if in-control, it fell right into his hands... He began-to ‘game’, and come cinch-in how dubbing his-actions and reaction-became acknowledgeable. ...The ‘fusion’-had demised a fiery-end, in his semantic-analysis... He out-laid the many contingencies-to his concealed-effectives... Discovery of any-sort of ’blue-print’; to David, then he could perhaps uncover his whereabouts. Detection-in Bo Jon’s case illuminated the 'If and'-fusion, well... -A-range was established, arena and perception-made, and within these alights he could digest a conceptual. Through these, perpetuity could-be recognized. Through-refining, register and recompense; a standard could be super-imposed... Little direct-evidence, was needed.
Belying-on this, was David’s reality. Was he hidden, or some-other would-be dimensional incentive, abreast in composing and convocation. A picture in-ostentation and proclivity-interjected in little conferring-cause. A compellation-of objective, and convergence... The elements-of-conjecture in the delineation had to based, portrayed and posed to utterly, make ’‘actual’, what was ’‘witting’. Making constant, ’‘brave’ and proctor-taken to an edge-of-instance. Then 72-hours into the collection, he discovered an accommodation. Several workers had said a man who’d looked-out of his element had worked successfully for one of the oil-riggers. A ’chummy-guy’...he did a very good-job, but didn’t seem, right...” His name was ‘Dutch’. That’s all he knew... He went to the manager and asked about him. Who then pulled his-file. An obvious forgery, yet not in general-terms. It had a motel as his residence. He’d now, began the foot-work. Asking questions of an ensemble of people. He’d virtually, done an ’‘ante’-erasure through-out Oklahoma then had a few extenuation connect to Texas then Arkansas then with pro-feasible to the East-somewhere. Yet in typical, he’d stayed in the business of ‘Hazmat’ oil-transport... He gathered as much of the information as he could, putting in sequence, segment and analogies.
Then painted, pointed
and projected as much of David’s behavior, as possible. Then protracted his-mentality, as probable. As it fell-into sympathetic of a theory... Much of David’s mysterious after-math didn’t read as disastrous or drastic it had calmed, cooled and collected. He-was not deranged, he had to operate objectively and ideally. Professing, it was a lot as being-ingenious. With the property-of ’‘landing’ and taxed; he-portrayed the role-of contentious, affability. The evidence adjured a particulars un-averting to the ’‘code’ so far. This, with the ’‘fusion’-plot; commuted into a fragility-of competence... The sheer, course David-had taken was astounding. He fostered a reverently, reticular-path. Of advents and apostles, the average man-hunt could-have not guessed. Suggesting an elaborate discourse-of timing, tendency and tenacity; working foster. Falsifying framework a affording duly-conquest of vying. ...In Bo Jon’s design, he was forming a deeding amorphous-picture. The fusion plot held posturing, penalties and pragmatics, as amending-of taxing, admissions and constant-allegory... Pro-factor, adventures in vocal, vantage and convening; Bo Jon was speculating, as many proving-points. While his-’pursued’ acted fairly, unconcerned-riding the coastal-road of North Carolina with the warm-breezes, high-blue skies and beach-front tranquility.
As the skies were iridescent-blue, and as the sun was set ‘high’ above. He breathed the invigorating sea air. Now, had seemed the right time to reach the East coast. Summer was coming to an end. He realized he was on the last few legs of his-travels. He knew, quite institute, that there was someone searching for him. Military school taught you to be prepared-for anything. The slightest-change in course or recourse could mean disaster. And these men often severed-ties to carry out their duties. So being perished, didn’t necessarily mean life was over only the burden had to be excised as dead-weight. He knew as each of his journeys that sacrifice-of the few eccentricities should be done-with ease. Bo, unlike David knew life was much like war with men-of-vision carrying further then trivial, subjective and implicit. David was not a fantasizer. This, and discipline made him, un-neglectful. Many things in life functioned-well as deriving work. Yet life was full of ‘extrinsic’; which David had never known their significance, till now. Bo had made the veritable, connecting-points and started-to give substance to each plot. He had wondered in-partition, in how Garr enveloped himself in profile, proceeding and process; he’d accomplished ignominiously.
He realized he was living-up to himself. He was genuinely a man of duty, for a man who knew the value of recognizance and corporeal transfixing-of chance, alone. A chance-to work, in some scaled-down and discounting yet flourish-opportunities. The Southeast-had for what it was worth dins of working-class who’d idiomatically, afforded a duly of ‘chance’ and challenge. David was shrewd, he-didn’t waste no time finding-work, making a living, restarting his-life. While Bo Jon enacted the ‘preliminaries’ of David’s concealed-life, David was enduring-to the many precipices-of the final-precept of transfiguring... David made Bo Jon seem ‘immature’ and un-surmount. Yet fear had meant David was wanted for murder, and Bo Jon his-pursuer. Life seemed-to be a series of a ‘poetics’ men were pronounced to fall-into. Receding-energies were occurring as one man was in downfall while his pursuant rose-to the factuality of a serious-crime. Thus was the thence and thicket of the working of duty, plight and pinion... Quartered, between the enforcement-of law. As Bo Jon theorized, subjugated and elicit the jaunting of Garr civic-progressing, in culmination. By week’s end he’d discovered that David had re-traced his-’steps’. That, along his years-long trail he’d practically ennui into a new-life... He’d worked at several oil-rigs on-shore and off, and headed east to Alabama and finally set-for somewhere East-under the name of Dutch Delman.
How he-came about that name, was a mystery. Yet his name came-up, frequently. He disposed-of ‘David‘, early, perhaps realizing another priority-to his-life. 12-months on-the-run re-affixed new perceptions. To work-indemnity, propose new-’substance’, many criteria and new-perspectives. Men, who’d changed their name orifice a deep-sense, of self... The warm green ocean lapped at the sandy shore. The breezes kept things nice and comfortable. The sun had risen in the summer sky. Sand-pipers ran along the beach, vacationers had come-out early... He’d left his truck at the lot, and now walked-with his shoes-off and in a t-shirt. Boats sailed-out along the breaks and Seagulls flew-out in deeper-waters. It was North Carolina and the season was reaching its peak. Beach-bums walked-by and surfers were preparing-to take-on the waves. ‘Dutch’ decided-to find a nice-place to sit, and relax. He’d been through-a lot. Life was becoming a situation of ‘lots’. Of efforts, encounters and encumbrances... Yet life didn’t lose its relevance. People still-lived their lives. He-enjoyed life in solely, protracted-pretense. What some had done in a life-time he’d done in a year. It had been no-illusion. But David felt that illusions to life were needed in times as these. He’d shaken his-head, in self-denial. As much as life was a play-on inter-cede; the practical-side, still remained unequivocal...
His-life for a year had been designed with some of the better times, in life. The credence-of duty and the travesty; if conversing, inordinate-theory of homage, epithetic. Acts, decisions and choices-ephemeral yet, ending in-demise. David had lived the past two-years as he’d led the last half-century; with the intention-of meting, valued-choices to make a living. He-lived without much fanfare on his-side yet the environments were portent-of pre-fictitious, ornate in deep, relativity of vocal and advance. Sometimes forceful, and valiant other-times faint and fortunate... Now the utter-issues of final parlay. Any aspect-in collusion of the end to-proxy; and prolixity; the never, considered consequence-of mistakes. That, lay-on his-thinking. Be any destitute and drastic rarely, entered his-mind... Yet pressing-on, it now was destiny and demise as part of the ‘real’ of his-life. He didn’t know what would become of his-actions or inventions would-take. Terse or tantamount was not paying-to tell him of his-future. Probably, the thinning-forces required a necessary, ceding-to obligation on-theory. Yet it would always be theory. He would not get understood and he would not be confused; he knew, he only had so much time and then his-fate, would be decided.
There would-be only justice-to a man who would be condemned-of murder. He would visualize what he’d done. He had no impression as he lived the last year, but he was beginning-to form one. He’d long since learned and his deceased-comrades in enthralled-flashbacks. He came ever-closer to parted in standing hisground. He ‘knew’ this, was his-reality of the in-evitable. How would this-all come-to, was all ‘mysterious’ to him as all he’d been through in the last year... Yet it was evident-circumstance that he was being, undermined-by alter-expectancies. He was a ‘wanted’ and an assailant on the loose en par with violent-offenders. He couldn’t think of himself as being arrested; jailed and convicted of first-degree multi-murder. But it was ‘to-wish’, not so ‘assumed‘. It was no fantasy, which he’d had been living. It was repugnant, how this had invoked and involved his-life. Knowing the stories-in and out; his-‘story’ of what went-on; yet he-could never prove accounting for-it...