Blinding fog, through which only God could see, consumed the street and all the objects around her as she stumbled to the right and into an alley. Half naked, her tight, old fashioned, ice-blue kirtle torn nearly off at the bust and sleeves, its hem damp and shredding as she stepped on it, she staggered face first into a dumpster and fell. Face swollen, her bright crimson cheek torn, she crawled to her feet and wept.
They were somewhere behind her, but where? Terror a spark that shocked her to her feet, she pushed away from the dumpster and ran on. Her feet vehicles with no driver, they flailed against the pavement as she careened her way along, crying, crashing into walls and trash cans, fire escapes and stairs. Bruised and bloodied, she felt nothing but fear.
Echoing her footsteps, magnifying her sobs, the fog was a radar for her enemies. She knew they were coming by their own footsteps. Coming quickly. Steadily. Gaining on her by inches, and then by feet.
Hysterical, she ran faster, overwhelming the sound of their footsteps with her screams. Light. Where’s the light, she worried, as she searched for the other end of the alley. If I can just get out of here.
Through the haze, in the brume, a nebulous, borderless glow appeared, and she ran for it. Oblivious of all that was to the right and left of her and that which was about her, barely missing the curb at her feet, she ran half blind toward the light. Comforted by its presence, only vaguely aware that the footsteps behind her approached, she felt nothing as tons of steel, led by a bumper, hit her, sending her sailing.
Excerpt from SATAN’S SCAT
© Shawna Ryan
Author: thrillers DESTINY'S DAMNED & SATAN'S SCAT
available:
www.pilchuckpublishing.com
amazon.com
books stores and libraries
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