Karla of House Nellenbach, First of Her Name, the Uncool, Queen of Sarcasm, Treadmill Battles, and the First Cup of Coffee, Khalessi of the Great Green Scion, Breaker of Lawnmowers, Mother of Dogs (and one Cranky Cat).
These are my words. This is my life. You have been warned.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
You Say I'm a TEASE & I say, "Why, Thank You"
So, if you were here for last week's epic alien tease, you know that Thia is smack dab in the middle of a very chaotic scene. If you weren't here for that show, you can find that tease here. I'll wait while you go read it.
Are you done yet? No? O-kay.
Ready now? Good! On with this week's scene. Enjoy!
After a shocked moment, the guards rush toward me,
No time for planning, I drop my shoulders, head
bowing forward, and charge. Knocking
into one guard, he crashes to the ground and I kick his gun out of his
reach. He grabs hold of my ankle, yanks.
But, Papa taught me well, and I am ready. Instead of fighting against his hold, I let
him guide me. Using the momentum of his
pull, my kick is ten times more forceful than usual and takes only half the
effort. The air sails out of his lungs
in a loud whoosh, leaving him gasping for breath, his hold on my foot a long
The yard is brightly lit, but with the chaos of the
children being herded into the barracks and the guards scrambling after me, it
might as well be pitch black out. Every
path is blocked by some obstacle.
A little girl reaches out to me as I barrel past
her. I vaguely recognize her as being
from my first camp. Chara? Chersha?
I can’t remember, but her fingers catch hold of my shirt, fist into the
material and slow me down.
But, I don’t stop.
Run. The command echoes throughout my brain. It’s what I screamed at Leda earlier. It’s what I shout to myself now. Run.
I pump my legs harder, faster. The little girl cannot keep up. She loses her tenuous hold on my clothes,
falls to the ground with a soft whimper.
Something breaks inside me with that small cry, and my feet slow, stop.
Something zings past my ear, heating the air next to
my head. Dirt flies up to my left. Bullets.
“Get up,” I shout at her. “Hurry.”
She struggles up, hands curling around my bound wrists as she pulls
herself to her feet. When she has righted
herself, I move again. “Come on.”
Another bullet whizzes past me, this time off my right
shoulder. It’s so close my skin burns
with the near contact. I push myself
harder. My legs pump and pump and pump.
The little girl huffs along beside me, her little
legs unable to match my longer strides.
If my hands were free, I’d reach down, scoop her up into my arms, but
they’re not and I can’t. She starts to
fall behind, sobbing loudly as I leave her behind.
This time, I don’t slow down. I can’t.
If I do, it will be my end.
Another bullet cuts through the air. This one finds its mark. Hot, searing pain slams into my left elbow,
vibrating up into my shoulder. Wildfire
spreads over the skin, covering me with the tattoo of invisible burns.
My legs fall out from under me. The ground rushes up to my face, my chest
slamming into the hard packed earth first.
My air leaves me, and for a hairy moment, I gasp and sputter, fighting
for a much-needed breath.
“Got her,” someone yells. Feet pound toward me. The thunder of it drowns out the shrieks and
wails of the frightened children.
Run. Run. Run. The command
once again sprints through my mind, but this time, Leda’s voice echoes in my
ears. Run. Run. Run.
Panting, dizzy, near complete exhaustion, I struggle
to my feet. They are like boulders,
heavy and cumbersome. Each step will
require more than I have left, but I have to do this. For Leda.
I can’t give up now. I won’t. A quick glance over my shoulder shows the
guards rushing toward me. This is my
last chance. The only one I have.
One step. A
wave of nausea crashes into me, makes me sway.
I close my eyes. Only for a
second. It’s more than I can afford
right now. Snapping them back open, I
pull in a deep breath, pick up my foot to run.
“Not so fast, Zero.”
A hand clamps down on my shoulder, spins me around. The yellow-haired guard. Conrad.
His lips quirk up in a humorless smile.
“I see we’re going to have problems with you.”
I don’t think.
There’s no time. Returning his
grin, I close my eyes, steady myself and slam my forehead into his. Nails stab through my skull, pierce my brain. His pained grunt is the most beautiful kind
of music. His hand on my shoulder
slackens, falls away as he grips his head.
One step backward.
Two. I whirl, run. He was my last obstacle. Now, there is nothing stopping me from
fleeing. Beyond the truck, the walls
loom high, but the gate still stands open.
Freedom is so close, I can practically taste it.
Giddiness floods through me as I round the
truck. No more obstacles. Almost there.
The muscles in my legs burn, cry out for me to stop pushing myself so
hard, but I ignore them. What’s a little
pain, a little discomfort compared to finally being free?
Mick’s voice cuts through the din.
It feels vaguely familiar, as if I should know by his regretful tone
what will happen if I don’t heed his command.
Of course, I ignore him, even as he shouts it
again. I am almost there. Almost free.
It’s not a bullet that finds its way to the center
of my back. It’s much worse than
that. Three tiny prongs that bring with
them a wealth of memories from just a short while ago. As with the last time, I stop, try to jerk
them out of my flesh, contorting my still bound arms upward, wrenching my
shoulders until they snap and crackle under the strain.
But, I am not fast enough.
The current that runs through me is far stronger
than the last time. I barely have a
second before all coherent thought leaves me, my brains scrambling, my body no
longer my own.
Blackness swirls around me, pulls me way down deep.
Soooo? What do we think? I don't know about you folks, but I'm not sure how much more poor Thia can handle ;)