Cover. I need it. Fast.
My feet beat the pavement as I race down the alley. I keep one eye on the beasts in the sky.
I only ever have two options when I’m attacked: find somewhere to hide, or blend in with a large group of people. The former is always the better choice, because avoiding floating blobs of color—which is how people appear to me in this reality—is tricky. Also, people can see and hear me clearly, but the shadow beasts? Conveniently invisible to the naked eye. When I’m fighting off or running from dark amorphous shadows with sharp claws that no one can see, I definitely look insane.
Since it’s still early in the morning—it can’t be much past six—the commuters aren’t out in full force yet, so blending in with a group is not even an option.
That means I have to find one of my hidey-holes. Somewhere to lay low until the spectrum world fades.
I mentally run through the list of safe locations as I sprint. The closest is an alcove under the Platte River Bridge about eight blocks away. The white aura that encapsulates my body might as well be a beacon that reads MEALTIME to the flying creatures above, but being near running water will camouflage me. Since discovering the trick, I always have a list of places I can hide within running distance.
Bursting out of the alley at full speed, my mind focuses on reaching my destination. There is no way my human pursuers can keep up with my speed. Since there isn’t a row of glowing auras waiting for me the moment I bust out of the alley, I have to assume they haven’t caught up to me.
I ignore the sights and sounds vying for attention.
My path is already plotted in my mind: four blocks straight, three blocks east.
My eyes remain fixed on my course.
I eat up three blocks in only a handful of seconds. I have to hope that any people driving by didn’t catch the blur darting down the street.
I’m just about to round the corner of the fourth block when a shadow drops out of the sky and lands in front of me.
Skidding to a halt to keep from colliding with it, I hear the telltale thud not far behind me.
Fear burns its way up my spine and explodes like a firecracker in my brain.
The monsters have found me.
The shadowy forms boxing me in are just that—formless blobs of darkness. They remind me of a moving black hole. Their edges are semi-translucent, almost like looking through shady mist. I can’t see through the main part of their bodies—if that’s what the darkness even is.
If this reality is like seeing the world through a sunlit kaleidoscope, these beings stand out for their absence of color. It’s as if they suck the beauty of this world into themselves. Not satisfied by simply obscuring the light, they seek to devour it.
The forms on either side of me undulate and move, as if posturing. I don’t know what they are or what they want, except to hurt me. My body is littered with scars from these creatures, whose sharp talons I never see, but feel slicing through my flesh.
Since no one else can see these abhorrent beasts, my foster families and social workers always thought my injuries were self-inflicted.
I learned to hide my wounds as best I could, but a particularly bad attack six months ago landed me in the hospital. I needed thirty-four stitches and two liters of blood to replenish what had been lost.
Since I had a history of similar injuries, the powers-that-be assumed I’d done something to myself. And what defense could I have given them? The leading theory was that I’d jumped out of the window of an abandoned industrial building. I suppose that would account for the cuts on my body, as well as the broken bones.
Lying in a hospital bed, I overheard my foster parents talking with my case worker about sending me to a psychiatric hospital. That was the last day I was officially a ward of the state.
Forcing the memory from my head, I scan my surroundings while the rest of the world wakes, none the wiser to the personal hell I face.
Cars zip along the street to my left. A parking garage stands to my right.
I bounce on the balls of my feet, steeped in indecision. My options aren’t good, but just as the shadow beast strikes, instinct has me bolting to the right and ducking into the garage.
Finding the stairwell, I race up the steps and emerge on the upper deck of the lot. I rush to the far corner and find that over the ledge is a six-story drop to the unforgiving ground below.
Way to go, Emberly. You really stepped in it this time.
What was I thinking?
Running to the top of a garage was the worst idea ever.
Suddenly, I’m the dumb girl in a bad horror film, running into the attic when she should have raced outside.
I want to throat punch myself.
On a bad day I’m a lot of things, but dumb isn’t usually one of them.
Jerking my eyes skyward, I spot several dark shapes swooping toward me. The two uglies following me have reached the top deck as well.
I’ve been in bad spots before, but this one may be the worst yet.
My only weapons are speed and maneuverability. Even after all these years, I have no idea how to fight these creatures. I’ve adopted a hide-at-all-costs philosophy when it comes to these other-world experiences.
Standing my ground, I wait for the monsters to reach me. A familiar golden shimmer zooms in front of me, leaving a trail of gold dust in its wake. I swat at the reoccurring nuisance. The flittering light appears from time to time, but since I’ve never figured out what it is and it doesn’t seem to want to hurt me, it isn’t a priority.
Refocusing my attention, I start to piece together a messy plan of action.
If I can draw the two shadow beasts away from the stairwell, I might be able to get back on the ground. I’ll run into the nearest building if I have to. Who cares if I draw people’s attention? This is a matter of survival.
Sweat trickles down my spine as time stretches.
A little closer, you ugly fat blobs.
As if hearing my thoughts, the shadows start toward me.
I flick my gaze upward. The ones in the sky haven’t slowed their descent. It’s as if the beasts on the ground and in the air are in a race to reach their prize: me.
They’re going to converge on me at once. I’ll be the loser that ends up a pancake beneath them.
Three. Two. One. Now!
When the shadow beasts are only a hair’s breadth away, I dive to the right, tuck into a somersault and spring to my feet.
The ground shakes as their forms collide, but I don’t glance behind me to survey the carnage or to see what is following me or how closely. Instead, I sprint for the stairs and pray I’m fast enough.
The stairwell is only feet away.
I’m going to make it!
Just as the tip of my toe passes over the threshold, something slams into me from the side, sending me flying into a nearby car.
I crash into the driver’s side of a silver sedan, breaking the window and leaving an Emberly-sized dent in the door.
Landing with a thud, my forehead slaps the concrete. My view of the color-drenched world blinks in and out, but with stubborn will alone, I remain conscious.
This isn’t how I’m going to go out.
I’ve survived seventeen torturous years with my body and freedom intact. I plan to keep myself alive for years to come.
I shove off the ground and bounce to my feet. My head’s angry with that move, but I tell it to shut up.
Only two creatures still stalk me. It appears the others are battling each other. I can’t be sure that’s what’s happening, but to my eyes, the monsters look to be viciously ramming into each other.