by Quinn Loftis
Her phone vibrated. A text from Jen read, “Heat sheets r n call me when u get home.” Awesome, she thought. Therese was anxious to see who would share her heat in tomorrow’s championship meet. She hoped she would be swimming breaststroke in the top heat against Lacey Holzmann from Pagosa Springs. She wanted to beat her this time.
She searched outside her window for the scruffy face but saw only a line of headlights as others, like they, exited the parking lot of the concert hall. Maybe she had only imagined the man. It was getting dark. The mountains across campus were barely visible as dusk turned into night.
“We’re both so proud of you, Honey,” Therese’s dad said from behind the wheel.
Therese probably got her imaginative talent from her father, who was a successful crime fiction writer. As soon as his first book made the New York Times bestsellers list, he moved his family out into their big log cabin in the San Juan Mountains.
Therese saw her father eyeing her in the rearview mirror. “Aren’t we, sweetie pie?”
She wondered at her father’s need to praise her mother all the time. Didn’t her mother already know she was brilliant and that her husband and daughter looked up to her? “Absolutely. You’re awesome, Mom.”
Therese’s phone vibrated again. A text from Paul read, “Wat r u waring?”
She cringed and murmured, “Oooh. How gross.” She couldn’t believe he had got her number. He had been stalking her around campus just before school let out for the summer.
Before she had a chance to delete the text, Therese heard the rear window behind her head explode. “What the…” Glass shards pricked at her neck and bare shoulders. The car swerved left and right. She looked back to see the window behind her busted. The line of headlights had dispersed into chaos, horns blasting, people shouting.
“What the hell was that?” her father yelled. “Oh my God! Linda! Linda!”
“Dad, what’s wrong? Is Mom…”
Another explosion rang out, and something zipped just past Therese’s head.
“Therese? Are you okay? Get down!”
“What’s happening? What’s going on?” Therese cowered in the back seat as a third explosion sounded, this time near the windshield. Therese could barely breathe. She gasped for air, her heart about to explode.
“Stay down! Someone’s shooting at us!” her father shouted.
The car swerved, slowed, and turned. The smell of burned rubber permeated the air. Therese’s head whipped back as her father gunned the accelerator. Her fingers trembled so wildly, she was barely able to punch the correct numbers on her phone. She messed up twice and had to start over. Finally she pressed them in slow motion: 911. It seemed an eternity before a woman answered on the other end.
“Nine-one-one, is this an emergency?”
“Someone’s shooting at us! You’ve got to help us. We’re leaving Fort Lewis College. Dad, where are we?”
“Heading toward Huck Finn Pond.”
“Huck Finn Pond!” Therese screamed into the phone as the car swerved, her seatbelt digging into her hip. Then she noticed the blood dripping down the back of her mother’s neck and onto her mother’s silk scarf. “Oh, my God! Mom? Mom, are you okay?”
“She’ll be okay, Therese!” her father shouted.
“Oh my God! I think my mom’s been shot! You’ve got to do something! You’ve got to help us!”
A crushing sound shot through the car, and Therese felt herself jolted hard to the right. She hit her head on the window and dropped the cell phone. When she bent over and tried to pick it up, the back end of the car lurched upward like a seesaw, and her head hit the back of her mother’s seat in front of her. She sat up and saw they were sailing through the air over the lake. The front end of the car hit the water, causing her head to flop forward and back. She heard the air hissing through the airbags as they inflated in the front end. She was so stunned, she couldn’t speak. She watched in silent shock as water crept into the front end of the car, up to her father’s neck, the untied bowtie of his tuxedo floating around him. The front airbags pressed against her father’s cheek, her mother’s face. Water spilled over the front seat and onto the floorboard in back where she sat elevated higher than her parents.
She unfastened her seatbelt and leaned over and looked down at her mother in horror. A bullet had put a hole in the back of her neck, and blood rushed from it. Her head lay against the airbag turned to one side, toward Therese’s father. Her eyes were open and she was gasping for air, but blood was pouring from her mouth and choking her.
“Mom! Oh my God! Mom!” Therese’s teeth chattered uncontrollably as her mother strained to look at her. She reached down and caressed her mother’s hair. “Mom! Oh my God!”
She realized her father had been shouting her name for several seconds. “Listen to me, Therese! Therese! Try to open your window. Therese! Try to get out of the car!”
His voice sounded like it did when he was cheering her on from the deck of the pool at her swim meets. “Keep going, Therese! You’re looking good! Kick! Pull!”
Except now it was tinged with desperation.
“I’m not leaving without you and Mom! I’m scared! Dad, please! Can’t you get out?” Her teeth continued to chatter.
The water level rose to his mouth. He shook his head. “I’m stuck!” He shouted through the water. His eyes widened as the water crept to his nose. He was drowning right in front of her.
“Dad! Dad!”
In a state of frenzy, he turned from side to side, only the top of his head visible.
Therese watched in silent shock.
She looked at her mother. Her mother’s eyes met hers briefly, then closed as the water washed over all but her red hair. Unlike her father, her mother didn’t move, but simply relinquished herself to the water. Her hair danced like seaweed, like long veins of blood. Therese became aware of the coldness of the water that had been sucking her down. Its cold fingers crept up to her shoulders. Her white gloves floated beside her, pointing at her. You! Do something!
She took a deep breath and went underwater toward her father. She couldn’t see in the dark, so she pushed against the airbag and felt around for the harness. The belt was undone, but the steering shaft was crushed across her father’s lap. She pulled with all her might on the steering wheel. It didn’t move. She tried to puncture the airbag but without luck. Then she yanked on her father’s lifeless arm. She couldn’t lift him from the seat.
Another memory shot through her mind: She was pulling her father’s arm, coaxing him from his recliner. “Come see the deer,” she was saying. She was small—maybe six. “Come on, Dad. Come see.” He had laughed and made a comment about her chipmunk cheeks and dimples, that he’d do anything to see those dimples. She pulled at his arm and he laughed and climbed out of his chair to follow her outside.
But now she could not get her father to follow her.
She felt her mother’s hand and flinched. She found it again. It was as cold as the water and as limp as a dead fish. She hugged her mother, held on to her for dear life till her brain hurt and she needed air.
Therese popped back up near the top of the car for air, but there was none. She hitched her body up and hit her head on the roof of the car. She then noticed a bright light shine on her through her backseat window. She thought she saw someone swimming toward her. She heard another crash and a surge of water, but she needed air! Panic overtook her like a wild beast, and she opened her eyes as far as they would open, writhed her body against every molecule in reach, and strained her mouth wide open. Her lungs filled with burning water, the cold water burning her like fire. She gagged on the water, gagged, kicked, went wild with fear, and then stopped and gave in to the darkness.
Regardless of whether or not you have room for me, thank you for being so supportive of other authors! I hope if I'm ever as successful as you are, that I will be able to do the same.
Please enjoy this excerpt from
Inheritance by Willow Cross
&nb
sp; Chapter One
Bang, clang, bang reverberated up the basement stairs and throughout the house. Sarah had already attempted to finish her homework in every room available, but the volume of noise remained equal in each. At least the kitchen table offered usable workspace.
Every so often a swoosh and tick tick tick from the portable welder would interrupt the clatter of metal being pounded into place. Then the bangs would begin again.
She took a sip of coffee and sat her cup on the kitchen table harder than normal. Hot liquid sloshed over the sides and pooled under the blank sheet of paper that was supposed to have been an essay on slavery in the modern world. “Crap.”
The sunflower border atop the yellow walls was obviously meant to imbue a happy, even peaceful, atmosphere. However, intention fell short. It didn't even come close to matching her mood. She stared at the mess on the table as the banging continued.
For the umpteenth time that afternoon, Sarah wondered what Aunt Edna would have done in this situation. Sure they'd never met, but it would've been nice to have a grownup's perspective. A scowl crossed her face as she thought of what the last set of foster parents would have done. Jason would already be in an institution somewhere, if not in jail.
She sighed and grabbed a paper towel. Grownups were usually more trouble than they were worth. Besides, seventeen was pretty darn close to grown up. Close enough anyhow.
Yesterday was the first she'd heard her brother banging away in the basement. Up till then, Jason had been meticulous about working on his project while she was at school. And when she'd asked what in the world he was doing, she certainly hadn't been prepared for his answer.
“Ha ha, very funny.” Sarah rolled her eyes, flipped her auburn hair over her shoulder, and turned to walk away.
Jason grabbed her arm and spun her around. “This is serious! Why can’t I remember? Why do I keep waking up naked in the woods?”
“Do you have any idea how crazy you sound? You were dreaming. It must have been a dream.”
His eyes narrowed. “And I suppose I dreamed the naked run home, cutting between houses, trying to get here without anyone seeing me?”
The thought of her brother running naked through the neighborhood was too funny to ignore. She was unable to stifle the snort that came through her nose.
Jason’s expression hadn't changed, but his grip strengthened. His eyes pleaded with her to listen as he whispered, “Why am I covered in blood every time, Sarah. And why can't I remember?”
She looked pointedly at her arm and he released her. Rubbing the tender area, she said, “Fine. I’ll do this, but when nothing comes of it, you have to promise to get help.”
According to Jason, his blackouts had been occurring three times a month. Coincidently, on the three nights the moon was fullest. He never remembered anything. And although he didn't come right out and say it, she knew he thought he was turning into some sort of monster. He'd been complaining a lot about new hair growing all over him. But geeze, he was twenty-one. Aren’t guys supposed to get hairy as they age?
Her immediate reaction was to call a shrink, but the horrifying events of the last few months stopped her. Newspaper headlines spoke of local police finding several mutilated bodies in the woods surrounding the area. Police and Townies had dubbed the suspected serial killer, ‘The Full Moon Slasher.' However, the thought of his being involved in something so irrational, or supernatural, couldn't be taken seriously. Those kinds of things just didn’t happen. Ever.
She realized the banging had finally stopped when she heard her brother's voice yell from below. “It's time. Come down here and lock the door.”
“Oh for Pete's sake,” she muttered. Sarah rose and glanced at the small notepad on the table beside her history book. Just in case, she thought as she shoved it in her back pocket and slid a pink gel pen behind her ear. She turned and stomped down the basement stairs.
***
Sarah sighed and leaned against the basement wall. The musty smell pervading the air made her nose wrinkle. Her eyes wandered over the dingy room filled with cobweb-covered boxes and finally came to rest on the steel cage in front of her. It had taken her brother two weeks to construct his prison. A prison she was certain he didn‘t need. “It’s been two hours. Are you ready to discuss this rationally?”
Jason stopped pacing, grabbed the bars of the cage, and gave them a good shake. The bars rattled slightly, but remained secure. “It'll happen. Give it time.”
Sarah's hand trembled as she pushed a loose strand of auburn hair behind her ear. “Jason, please. I have a number--”
“I don’t need a therapist. I need a loaded gun.”
She moved to the cage door and took his hand. Her fingers only stretched part way around his palm. “Please. Listen to me. For once in your life--”
Jason's face paled as his body began to spasm.
“What's wrong?”
His eyes widened. Wrenching his hand from her grasp, he clutched his throat as if choking on an invisible bone, gagging and gasping for air. His open mouth, somehow distorted, seemed abnormally large like it had grown in the few seconds he’d been choking.
“J-Jason answer me!” The color drained from her face and her heart pounded against her ribcage.
Jason's thick neck and broad shoulders bulged and moved as if something living crawled beneath the skin. His body lurched, slamming his six and a half foot frame against the iron bars before dropping him to the floor with a dull thud. A hand shot between the bars and latched on to her pants leg with an iron grip. His lips moved, but the only sounds escaping his distended throat were grunts and groans.
“W-What the--?” Sarah quivered. Hair on the back of her neck rose as goose bumps exploded over her body. Breath somehow lodged in her chest and refused to come out.
She tried to pull her leg away, but her jeans remained tight in his grasp. She placed her hands against the bars and yanked with all her strength. The sound of the thin denim ripping filled the basement. Pain shot through a muscle in her thigh. Her lungs finally released and allowed the imprisoned air to escape. Dizziness overwhelmed her as she gulped in air and limped backwards.
Jason thrashed on the floor in front of her. His flesh bubbled and stretched as the bones inside him snapped and reformed. Growling, saliva dripping from his mouth, he writhed and convulsed. Full lips turned from mauve to black as his chin elongated. His flesh ripped, only to heal, tear, and heal again. Perfect white teeth yellowed, growing long and sharp as his blue eyes bulged into enormous black globes. Hands and feet melted and reformed into paws with long dark claws. Thick hair burst from his skin covering him in a carpet of grey and white.
Sarah’s stomach churned. Her mind raced to grasp what was happening. Covering her mouth, she fought the rolling wave of nausea that threatened to spew forth. A whimper escaped while she continued to shuffle backwards. One solitary tear slid down her cheek, but her eyes remained fixed on the cage as her hand shot over to wipe it away.
Jason did not remotely resemble the blond haired, blue-eyed, brother she so dearly loved. The Jason-thing beat its head against the iron bars of the carefully constructed cage with such force she wondered if it would hold. Blood. He’d said he woke up with blood all over him, and it wasn’t his. She hadn’t believed him, and even now, couldn't wrap her mind around what he might have done. More tears spilled down her face. “Oh my God. This can’t be happening!” She inhaled sharply and held her breath to prevent threatening sobs from consuming her.
His head tilted back letting out a monstrous roar. Sarah covered her ears as it reverberated through the small basement like a pride of lions. In the farthest corner of the room, flattened against dusty boxes, her body shuddered as she fought to regain control of her emotions.
Jason had never lied to her. Not once in her entire life. She should have believed him.
Please enjoy this excerpt from
Clicks by Amy Evans
CLICKS
Amy Evans
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Excerpt – YA –SciFi Fantasy
CLICKS are the sounds the universe makes to tell you what happens next. They’re instincts, truths you hear in your heart. (Book 1)
ECHOES are louder and more dangerous than CLICKS. They can reverberate and cause damage if ignored. (Book 2 – available June 2014)
This is the story of Pinhold Island, the most perfect example of nature and time and the country’s #1 surf spot. It’s home to epic waves, black sand beaches and the friendliest pod of dolphins known to man. While sixteen year old Cami loves her Island home, she can’t wait to leave The annual Surf Carnival competition is her ticket, and she’s been training for years to win it and take the gold. But as the competition heats up, the best swimmers start going down, and it’s up to Cami to rescue them. Can she trust her instincts to find out what’s really wrong? Or will she lose everything important to her searching for proof?
Want the recipe for a great book?
Try this.
3 parts Mystery
2 parts Romance
1 part Paranormal
3 parts Action
A dash of Fun
This book is best when read ASAP. Read until done.
Enjoy!
What are clicks?
Waves that experienced surfers sense instinctively before they can be seen or heard. Winners trust their clicks and get in position, dropping in on the beginning swell and taking even the biggest monsters on a ride. Then there are the rest of us. We wait; jump on at the wrong time. Best case, we hang on. Worst, we’re sent crashing to the ocean floor trying desperately not to drown.
The ocean never clicked for me. Not like it did for my brother, or my grandmother, or the many ancestors who’d come before. Still, they expected me to commit for life, guarding the ocean and the land, just because I was first born. I wanted none of it. But I let them train me so that I could win the Surf Carnival and get the heck out of town.
