When Janice pushed up to her knees, all of the air in her lungs disappeared as the world suddenly seemed to land on her back. Her body was thrown into the black sands, and her insides were pressed until she thought she’d explode. As the pressure on top of her increased, she understood what a salt-gnat must feel like when being pinched to death between two fingers.
“Get off of her!” Richard screamed, and Janice saw a club swing from in front of him, and then connect with his middle. Richard fell over and was shoved onto the sands as more hands wrestled him down. When the air came back to her, and she coughed a haggard breath to replace the explosion in her lungs, she heard a deep, throaty voice. The owner of the voice lay on top of her, pressing his knee into the small of her back, causing her to cry out in pain. The voice had a hand, and the hand wriggled beneath her, approaching what had stayed untouched for two decades.
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” she heard in her ear. The voice sounded menacing and raspy, but it was vaguely familiar. “Maybe today, I’ll teach you something!”
Janice gasped when she recognized whose voice it was. Harold Belker had survived his exile from their Commune, a punishment for having killed Sammi Tate. It pained Janice to realize the level of evil in a boy whom she’d known for most of his life. He’d had no repentance for having killed Sammi, though, no remorse. Instead, he’d found the Outsiders, and had become one of them. Maybe he’d always been one of them; maybe he’d been an Outsider the entire time.
Janice tried to pull in more air, breathing in the salt and the sands, until she coughed out the pain of the attack. Janice’s fear quickly turned to anger as her strength returned, but Harold was strong, and he had her pinned with his knee to her back. When Harold removed his knee, she felt him press something else against her, and dread and vileness filled her, sickening her. She cried out, cursing him, and swinging her arms, clutching at handfuls of sand and air. When she tried to get up, she heard his heinous laugh, and he gripped her hair, driving her face into the damp, pebbly sands. The immense pressure forced sand into her eyes, nose and mouth while she struggled. But the struggling only made the attack worse, as the coarse sand peeled away the skin on her face. When the hand against her head relaxed, she lifted her head, gasping for air.
“What… what happened to you?” she asked, unable to think of something else to say. Harold only laughed as he groped her some more.
“I found my home,” he answered, and then pushed her face back into the sand. Her eyes remained above the edge of the crevasse that she and Richard had built, allowing her to see the beach ahead as more Outsiders approached. Her nose and mouth were covered, and her senses were limited to the sound of shuffling bodies and the salty taste of blood on her tongue. She reeled up one more time, forcing every muscle, fighting until she felt her arms and legs give out. Harold pushed harder, shoving her down again—which was where she stayed, unable to breathe. Soon, her pulse slowed, and she welcomed the increasing distance between her and what was going on around her. The scene quieted; the approaching feet had all passed. She stared absently ahead, until their gray world invaded her eyes, stealing what little remained of her sight. When her senses were gone, and everything around her went black, Janice was grateful.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Thank You
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BONUS - Reveal Chapter 1
Deceit: Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Thriller - Book 3 (Caustic) Page 13
