The Unexpected

You know how, when you write, something happens that you had no idea would happen when you sat down to finish the chapter? Well, that something happened.

And when I say something, I mean one of the main characters getting captured and another getting shot.

My readers will hate me.

“Come on, we need to hurry, they’re right behind us!” Skylar hissed, but a gurgle stopped her in her tracks. Turning, Skylar’s heart stopped.

            Sophie lay collapsed in the tunnel, barely conscious, a dark red stain spreading from the side of her tunic. Her face was ashen and her eyes were unfocused, one hand lying gingerly over the wound.

            Skylar’s face drained of all color. “No,” she murmured.

            Sierra reached over and felt for a pulse. Skylar held her breath. The shouts at the end of the tunnel seemed to fade away as she waited for Sierra’s answer.

            “She’s alive,” Sierra said. “but she needs help, fast, or that could easily change.” Hoisting her up, Sierra turned to Skylar, her face determinedly calm. “Let’s go.”

            The two ran for their lives, trying to ignore the shouts that were coming closer, trying to ignore the growing scarlet stain, trying to ignore Sophie’s limp arms and closed eyes.

And, being such a wonderful blogger, I won't tell you what happens. ;)

They ran, but they had talked too long --- the guards were on their tail. Ransom, who was leading the way, looked back and groaned. “I can’t take you to the tunnels with them following us like this,” he said. “It would be a direct giveaway to our hiding place.”

            “Now what do we do? We don’t have time for this!” Sierra’s calm demeanor was shattering as Sophie became less and less conscious and more and more blood dripped through the tunic and over Sierra’s fingers.

            Suddenly, a plan struck Skylar --- a horrible plan, a plan that went against every fiber of her being, a plan that was stupid and foolish yet would work.

            There are greater things to fight for.

            Taking a deep, deciding breath, Skylar stopped running. Ransom and Sierra halted too, staring back at Skylar incredulously.

            “Serenity, what are you doing? Come on!” Ransom urged.

            But Sierra knew what she was going to do. “No, no, don’t do this, please don’t do this,” she begged.

            Skylar had already made up her mind, and nothing could sway her from it now. “No. I’ve got to do this, or we’ll all die. Go.”

            They both hesitated, their mouths open, ready to protest.

            “Go!” Skylar screamed. Turning, she faced the oncoming slew of guards and pulled, out of her utility belt, one hand grenade and a pistol.

            “Skylar,” Sierra begged softly, forgoing all nicknames, “there’s still time left … we could still make it … please …”

            Skylar turned back to her, the grenade armed and ready. “You don’t understand,” she said quietly. “I have to do this. Now, go, or else this will all be in vain.”

            Skylar looked at Ransom, who looked stunned, but he nodded. At least he understands, Skylar thought, as she watched him gently grab Sierra by the elbow and pull her away.

            Closing her eyes, she turned slowly back to the oncoming horde. They were close now. She could see the manic fury in their eyes. They reminded her of the dogs Drew would send to chase after deserters --- hungry, barbaric, unnatural.

            Time seemed to slow down as Skylar raised the grenade and tossed it towards the front line. It exploded on contact, blasting the first row to smithereens and sending the second flying into nearby buildings. The others, merely singed, didn’t even glance at their fallen comrades as they stepped over the bodies and raced towards her, their guns outward, but they weren’t firing.

            They mean to take me prisoner, Skylar calculated, as she raised her own pistol and took aim. Well, I can’t say I didn’t expect that.

            Still, the word prisoner sent chills up her spine as her bullets hit their mark. She remembered Ransom discussing how death would be preferable to the torture that awaited.

            The guards were upon her now. She felt rough hands grab her arms and cold pistols press against her back. She took one last glance behind her, to see nothing. They were gone. They were safe.

            She felt someone’s thumbs press against the pressure point on her neck. She didn’t fight it. She knew that this was how it would end. As darkness closed in from all sides, she sighed deeply.

            There are greater things to fight for.

Cruel, I know. Sorry. :)        

Do any of you have any good fonts to recommend? Because I'm crazy about fonts, and I need a new one to use. What fonts do you use/know/like?