Diana's Writing Blog

In case you hadn’t noticed my awesome word count progress bar, I won NaNo again this year! Luckily, I managed to finish it before my Thanksgiving break. Because, let me tell you, I did a lot of running last week. Picking up the sis in Milwaukee, helpin…

Well, I hit 50k yesterday. I’m on chapter 9 of 10 now, so I’m guessing it’ll end up being about 60k max. That’s kind of short for a novel, especially one I wrote, but I want Thanksgiving weekend off, so I’m okay with it. Also, I posted an excerpt of …

So, I’m on chapter 4 now and on track to hit 25,000 words tomorrow. This’ll probably be the last excerpt I put up, but I feel like it’s where the action really kicks off, so I wanted to share. Again, it’s in no way the finished, polished version.

Terra woke her the next morning.

“I can’t believe you ran away and got caught already and I slept through it,” she said, shaking her head. “Barb says you’re getting moved. You gotta get ready. Your case worker’ll be here soon.”

Emily looked down at herself. Until someone took her to get her things from the cemetery, she was wearing her only set of clothes. She stood and pushed her cot away so Terra could get to the closet.

“They throwing you in the loony bin?” the younger girl asked as she pulled out her clothes.

Emily nodded.

“Dang,” said Terra.

“Yeah,” Em agreed.

“You got your stuff? You all packed up?”

Emily shrugged. “What’s it matter?”

She didn’t get to eat, of course. Her last meal had been Terra’s peace offering at lunch. No one had been able to sneak any dinner out under Barb and Emmet’s watchful eyes. And there wouldn’t be time to slip her anything before Mrs. Hendricks came to get her.

Still, Em stood at the table with the rest of the girls, sipping her milk and watching the others eat their cereal. A honk sounded out front, making Barb jump. “That’ll be your case worker, Emily.”

Emily stood frozen for a moment, wondering if she ought to say goodbye to the others, to Barb and Emmet. But Emmet stayed at the table, reading his morning paper and Barb stayed where she was at the sink, washing dishes.

“Well,” said Emily. “I guess I’ll be going, then.”

Terra blocked her path as she moved around the counter. The younger girl rolled her eyes and held her arms out. “Don’t cry or anything, okay?”

Emily smiled and stooped to hug her. “Thank you,” she whispered, wishing desperately for her pad and pencil.

“Maybe you’ll get a good place,” Terra muttered. “Maybe it won’t be so bad. You just gotta make it till you’re eighteen. Then you’re free.”

Emily stepped back and nodded. “Take care of yourself.”

Mrs. Hendricks honked again as Emily emerged onto the porch. But Emily wasn’t in any mood to hurry. She looked back at the house one last time, saying goodbye to the cramped, rundown place that had been her sanctuary.

Mrs. Hendricks didn’t say anything as Emily buckled herself in, just sped off on the all-too-familiar route to the social services office. She paused a moment as they parked in front of the building, regarding Emily like she wanted to say something. Em kept her gaze straight ahead and finally Mrs. Hendricks sighed and shoved her door open. “Come on, we’re late.”

Mrs. Hendricks stopped short as they entered the building, making Emily stumble as she tried to avoid running into her social worker. Emily stepped around the woman and saw an older black man motion Mrs. Hendricks over.

“Wait here, Emma,” she said, frowning.

Em slumped into a nearby metal folding chair, watching the pair as they talked. Mrs. Hendricks shot a look over her shoulder at Emily, then said something to the man.

“Emily?” A new, male voice from her right made her jump. A man in his mid forties stood at the little folding table by the door that held coffee and Styrofoam cups. He had jet black hair that was graying at the temples and silver eyes. He was wearing a black suit. It looked new and starkly out of place in a room full of social workers dressed in worn, ill fitting brown and blue suits. Was he a doctor from the facility they were sending her to?

He smiled and set aside his cup of coffee, coming over to squat in front of Emily. “It is you, isn’t it?” he said, putting a hand over Emily’s where they were folded in her lap. “You look just like your mother.”

She yanked away from him in surprise and the man sat back, holding up his hands. “I’m sorry. Of course you don’t remember me. I should’ve—” He shook his head. “My name is Anton Beaudine. I’m a friend of your father’s. We grew up together. We were like brothers. Did he never speak of me?”

Emily shook her head.

“Oh, here. They told me you couldn’t speak.” He pulled something out of his inside pocket and handed it to her.

It was a little black computer. Like those PDAs that businessmen used to use before Blackberries were invented. It folded open to reveal a keyboard and a little screen.

“Go ahead, try it. You type and it’ll read your words aloud.”

Emily shrugged. Hi, she typed. The computer read it back in a neutral, female voice.

Anton smiled. “Hello.”

Mrs. Hendricks returned and Anton stood. “Follow me, please,” she said to them.

She led them back to the glass walled room where the man who had been talking to Mrs. Hendricks was waiting. “Thank you, Harriet, I’ll take it from here.”

Mrs. Hendricks caught Emily’s arm as she passed. “You are incredibly lucky,” she murmured. “Don’t forget it.”

“Have a seat,” said the new man. “I’m Philip Barker, senior caseworker here.”

Anton motioned for Emily to sit, then took the seat next to hers.

“Now,” said Mr. Barker, flipping open a file in front of him. “Mr. Beaudine, you’re a friend of the family?”

“As I was explaining to Emily,” said Anton, “I knew Tom Richards when we were children. We moved to opposite ends of the country for college and fell out of touch for the most part.” He looked to Emily with a fond smile. “He sent me a picture years ago of your mother holding you and your sister on the day you were born.”

Emily nodded. That same picture hung on the wall by their front door. Or used to. She supposed it had been thrown out by now.

“I recently moved back into the area,” said Anton, turning back to Mr. Barker, “and I went to look up my old friend.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t believe it when I heard the news. I searched for Emily,” he patted Em’s hand, “just to pay my respects, never imagining that there was no one to take her in. When I heard that she was a ward of the state, I simply had to step in.”

Emily looked to the man in surprise. He couldn’t really be saying what she thought he was, could he? He hadn’t even seen her father in decades. He couldn’t really mean to take her in.

Anton gripped her hand in his. “Yes, Emily, I want you to come and live with me—If you’d like to, of course. It’s the least I could do for your father.”

Mr. Barker cleared his throat. “I’m afraid it’s a bit more complicated than that. Since you aren’t related to Ms. Richards and the late Mr. and Mrs. Richards never explicitly named you as a guardian for their daughter, the state requires that you be screened and evaluated to ensure that you can provide a safe, nurturing environment for Ms. Richards.” He looked down at the file in front of him again. “Given that you live across state lines, it would be difficult to get a court to agree to even a temporary placement.”

Anton nodded. “Yes, my lawyer advised me of that. I’ve already rented a temporary residence within the city. I’ll stay there with Emily for the moment.”

“Hmm.” Mr. Barker rocked back in his chair. “Well, in that case, I don’t see why we can’t get you an order of temporary custody today. I’ll also put the paperwork through for an emergency hearing to get you permanent custody.”

Anton smiled and rose, reaching across the table to shake the older man’s hand. “Thank you, Mr. Barker. I can’t tell you what this means to me.”

Emily flipped open her little computer. Me too, she typed. Thank you!

Anton smiled down at her and clapped her on the shoulder. “Are you ready to go? Do you need to say any goodbyes?”

Emily shook her head and stood. Ready to go, she typed.

Anton motioned for her to precede him out the door. Back in the main office, Anton paused and looked around. “Where’s your social worker? Hasn’t she got your things for you?”

Emily unfolded her computer, infinitely thankful for the little gadget. In storage, she wrote. Had a backpack, but the cops wouldn’t let me go get it when they found me.

Anton frowned. “The police?”

Ran away, she explained. She paused, debating whether or not to mention the looming psycho ward, but decided against it. Wanted to visit my family’s grave. No one would take me.

“That’s terrible,” said Anton. “I don’t blame you for taking matters into your own hands.” He put an arm around her. “Come along, that’ll be our next stop.”

Outside, her new guardian led her over to a shiny black town car. He held the door open for her, then waited until Emily was situated, and shut it again.

Anton got into the driver’s seat. “Oh,” he said, looking over to where Emily was gripping her seatbelt in both hands. “Forgive me, I’d forgotten. Would you feel safer in the backseat?”

Backseat’s worse, Emily typed. Please don’t speed.

Anton nodded gravely. “Of course. You let me know if I’m going too fast,” he said as they pulled out.

He didn’t go too fast. He stayed exactly to the speed limit, even shooting Emily a questioning glance as they sped up to forty five for part of the way. Em gave him a brave smile in return. It wasn’t like driving with Mrs. Hendricks, at all. She trusted him.

When they reached the cemetery, Anton made no move to get out. “Would you mind if I joined you in a moment?” he asked, reaching into his jacket. “I need to make a quick call.”

Emily nodded and resisted the urge to shoot a nervous glance in the direction she knew Evie’s grave was.

She made her way slowly through the graves. Under a cheerful summer sky, what she’d seen the night before seemed ludicrous. “What’s makes more sense?” she muttered to herself as she neared her family’s graves. “That you saw Evie’s ghost telling you to kill yourself or that you had a really convincing dream?”

Still, she shot a wary look around before stooping to retrieve the backpack that lay across Evie’s grave. She shook the blanket off and shoved it inside, jumping to her feet again.

She shrieked and fell back as she came face to face with her translucent twin.

“You can’t trust that man,” said Evelyn, walking through her own headstone to crouch in front of Emily. “He’s lying about everything. He never knew Dad and he wants to hurt us. Both of us.”

Emily slapped her hands over her ears. “You’re not real,” she sobbed. “Go away!”

“Listen to me!” Evie snapped, trying to claw Em’s hands away from her ears. “He’s on his phone right now. He knows about me. He’s planning something. Something bad.”

“What do you care?” Emily snapped. “You’re already dead. And you want me dead, too.”

Evie shook her head. “Not like that. If he does it, neither of us will be free.” She gasped and suddenly vanished like smoke dissipating.

Emily looked around and saw Anton hurrying toward her. “Poor thing,” he said, dropping to one knee next to Em and wrapping his arms around her. “There now, let it out.”

And Emily did cry, wrapping her arms around his neck and sobbing into his shoulder. But she didn’t cry for her family. No, this time it was fear. Fear that she really was crazy. Or that she wasn’t and her dead sister really was haunting her.

But she’d disappeared when Anton got near, Emily realized. Whatever she was, Anton could keep her away.

She pulled away and climbed to her feet, clutching her backpack against her chest and staring one last time at the three headstones. Anton stayed kneeling. “Did you do this?” he asked, tracing the clumsily carved inscription she’d made on each.

Emily nodded.

“Poor thing,” he said again, standing. “I’ll tell you what, when all of this is finally settled, we’ll get them new headstones. Ones that are more fitting. How does that sound?”

Emily smiled and nodded.

“Shall we go?”

Emily nodded again. She couldn’t help shooting one last glance over her shoulder as Anton ushered her back to the car. No sign of Evie.

***

The apartment wasn’t at all what Emily was expecting. After the social services office and Barb and Emmet’s house, her imagination was sort of stuck on run down and cramped. The apartment Anton had found them was neither.

It was in what looked like a brand new apartment complex at the edge of town. It towered over the buildings around it, its new brick and shiny steel trim gleaming.

The lobby of the building looked like it belonged in a posh hotel, with shiny stone floors and plush couches and chairs. A doorman greeted them from behind a tall desk. “Can I help you?”

“Yes,” said Anton. He pulled out his wallet and showed his license. “Anton Beaudine. I’m renting number 522. I was told you’d have a set of keys for me.”

“Of course,” said the man, pulling an envelope from below the desk. “Welcome to the building, Mr. Beaudine. Please let me know if you need anything.”

Anton handed him a bill and took the envelope. “Thank you.”

The elevators needed a key. Anton fished in the envelope and pulled out a key ring. There was a little gold key that matched the finish on the elevator doors.

Inside, Emily jumped as the shiny doors slid closed, putting her face to face with her reflection. She dropped her gaze to her shoes for rest of the ride.

The apartment itself was just as elegant and plush as the rest of the building. It was all white walls and open spaces. The living room had a white leather couch facing a fireplace with a flat screen mounted above it. Past the couch was a wall of windows overlooking the city. Opposite it was the kitchen area with shiny new appliances and granite countertops. A bowl of fruit had been set out on the island separating the living room from the kitchen.

“This will be your room,” said Anton, opening a door to the left of the fireplace. “And mine is just next door,” he said striding pointing past the fireplace to a door on the right of it. He pulled his cellphone out. “You’ve your own bathroom. Why don’t you go and get cleaned up while I see about getting us something to eat?”

Emily’s stomach rumbled its agreement to that plan. She hurried into her bedroom, pulling the door shut behind her. The room wasn’t cavernous, but it seemed huge compared to the cramped one she’d been sharing with the other girls back at her foster home. There was a wide, tall bed with a shiny black comforter and a mountain of pillows. To one side of it sat a little desk with a rolling chair and a lamp. To the other was a dresser and set of sliding doors leading into a spacious closet.

She dumped the contents of her backpack onto her bed. She shoved the blanket and various canned goods she’d pilfered from her ex-foster parents into one of the many empty drawers in the dresser. She put the few blouses and skirts and underthings in a separate drawer, choosing a clean set for the day.

She took her bundle of clean clothes and headed for the door to the bathroom, across from the bed. It was a long, skinny rectangle with a white and black countertop stretching along one wall. The counter had a sink set in one end and then it dropped down a foot to make a little vanity area with pull out drawers and a little backless chair to sit on. The entire wall behind the counter was one long mirror. Opposite the counter was a toilet and a long shower/tub with semi-transparent glass walls and the same black and white stone facing as the counter.

Emily set the water running for a bath and forced herself to face the mirror as she unbuttoned her blouse. It’s just my reflection, she told herself. Just me. No one else here.

But all of the sudden there she was, appearing behind Emily in the mirror. Em whirled and flattened herself against the counter.

Her dead twin glared at her. “You have to get out of here! He’s planning something. Tonight!”

Emily clapped her hands over her ears and squeezed her eyes shut. “You’re not real.”

She felt a breeze at her side and knew Evie was there, but didn’t dare open her eyes.

“He’s on the phone, right now, plotting it,” Evie hissed. “Go listen for yourself if you don’t believe me!”

The cold receded and Emily opened her eyes. Evie was waiting by the door, arms crossed.

Emily took a few timid steps forward, and Evelyn stepped out into the bedroom, again waiting for her living twin to follow. Emily crossed the bedroom slowly, re-buttoning her shirt as she did.

“He’s in his room,” Evelyn told her.

Emily peeked out into the main room of the apartment and saw that it was, indeed, empty. She slid out of the half open door and crept across the room to the door to Anton’s bedroom. Gingerly, Emily put her ear against the door. She shuddered as she felt Evelyn lean over her, as if listening as well.

“—were happy to hand her off to me,” Anton was saying. He paused for a moment, then said, “Mmm, yes. I played the benevolent uncle. She’s eating out of my hand.” He chuckled. “Which is good. It’ll make it easier to drug her.”

Emily straightened and glanced back at Evelyn, who had a look of triumph on her face. Heart hammering in her chest, Emily put her ear to the door again.

“No,” she heard Anton say. “She’s a frail little thing, but it’s better safe than sorry. There’ll be too many questions if I suddenly announce we’re flying to Illinois tomorrow morning, and I don’t want to have to hurt her. Not yet.”

He paused and when he spoke again, he was so close to the door that Emily nearly fell back. “Just worry about things on your end,” he said. “I want to have her strapped down before the sedative wears off.” Another pause. “Good, good. And the dagger? Will it be ready in time?”

“Em!” Evie hissed swatting an icy hand through her living twin’s arm. “He’s coming! Go now! Run!”

Emily jumped back from the door and darted across the room. A moment later, the handle to Anton’s door began to turn. Evie disappeared and Em cast around helplessly. There was no way she could get out the door and to the elevators before he ran her down. Better to play innocent until she could sneak away unnoticed.

She grabbed a banana from the bowl of fruit on the counter. She leaned against the island and began idly unpeeling it as Anton strode into the room. He stopped short as he caught sight of her.

“Emily,” he said, stashing the phone in his jacket. “I thought you were having a bath.”

Em forced a smile and held up the banana.

“Hungry?” asked Anton.

She nodded.

“Well, don’t ruin your dinner, I’ve ordered pizza.” He paused and frowned. “Is that water I hear running?”

Emily straightened in genuine surprise. She’d left her bath going. She winced and darted back into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her. She noticed for the first time that it didn’t lock. Not from her side, anyway.

She retreated to the bathroom, shutting off the tap just before the water began to pool over the sides. She dunked her head under so that it would look like she’d bathed and then set the tub draining again. She pulled on her clean clothes as she waited for Evie to reappear.

After nearly twenty minutes, Em gave up and went back out into her bedroom. She repacked her backpack, making sure to include her new little computer, and then shoved it under the bed so Anton wouldn’t spot it if he came in.

As an afterthought, she dug out one of her cans of ravioli and the can opener. She had to shove them under the bed as Anton rapped on the door and peeked in. “Pizza’s here. Hope you’re hungry.”

Em looked around for Evie, but her twin was nowhere to be seen. Reluctantly, she followed Anton out into the main room. He’d set out two plates at the kitchen island. Emily forced a smile and climbed up into one of the high chairs that lined the island.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked,” said Anton, flipping back the lids of the two pizza boxes, “so I got one vegetarian’s special and one pepperoni.” He tipped both up for her to see. “Choose your poison.”

Emily blanched. He must plan to eat, too. So his pizza couldn’t be drugged. But she wouldn’t know which was his until he took some. She pointed from box to box, then held up two of her fingers.

“One of each?” asked Anton.

Emily nodded.

“Where’s your computer?” Anton asked as he put two slices on her plate.

Emily pointed to her bedroom.

“Well, go and get it,” laughed Anton. “It’ll be hard to carry on a conversation in hand gestures.”

“Oh,” Emily muttered. He’d figured out a way to get her out of the room. And leave him alone with her food long enough to do whatever he wanted to it.

Reluctantly, she slid down from her chair and headed for her bedroom. She dug the computer back out of her bag and stared at it. What was she going to do? How could she get out of eating her food without arousing his suspicions?
“Don’t tell me you’ve managed to lose it, already?” Anton called.

Emily shoved her bag back under the bed and went back out into the main room. She smiled and held up the computer.

“Ah,” said Anton. “Good.” He had pizza on his plate already. All pepperoni. “Dig in,” he said, picking up a slice.

Emily eyed her own plate. She opened her computer and typed, Feeling sick.

“You are?” asked Anton, frowning. “I thought you were starving a little while ago.”

Emily shrugged.

The briefest hint of a scowl passed over Anton’s face but then it was gone, a kind smile in its place. “Well,” he said, patting her hand. “It’s been an exciting day. Perhaps you’re just overly tired.”

He slid a glass of reddish liquid over to her. “At least have some juice. You need to keep your strength up.”

“Crap,” Emily muttered, looking from his beer bottle to her glass. He hadn’t drugged her food at all; it was the juice.

Emily wrinkled her nose and shook her head. No thanks, she typed. Just water. She took the cup and dumped it down the sink, then filled it with water. She had no intention of drinking it, but she took it with her anyway, back toward her room.

“All right,” said Anton. “Get some rest, dear. I’m sure you’ll feel better in the morning.”

“Evie!” Em hissed as soon as her door was shut.

Her dead twin appeared across the room, by the window. “You’re running out of time,” said Evelyn. “You’ve got to kill yourself now, before he gets to you.” She raised a translucent arm to point out the window. “Jump.”

“No,” Emily cried, flattening herself against the door.

“Do it, now!” Evie exclaimed. “There’s no time!”

“No!” Emily screamed.

“Look out!” Evie winked out of sight.

Emily whirled, but too late. Anton yanked the door open and clamped his hands around her wrists.

“You couldn’t do it the easy way, could you?” he snarled, forcing her back until she was pinned against the bed, trapped under his weight.

He pinned her hands above her head with one hand while he drew a flask out of his jacket pocket with the other. Emily fought, but he was too heavy and she was weak from hunger and lack of sleep.

He let her hands go for a moment to unscrew the lid of the flask. Emily shrieked and clawed at him, trying to grab the flask from him, tip out the contents, but he was too strong. He clamped a hand under her chin, squeezing until her mouth was forced open.

Even using both her hands, she couldn’t stop him from lowering the flask to her lips. “Good thing you’re mute,” he said. “Wouldn’t want you screaming your lungs out and disturbing our neighbors.”

As the first drops of bitter liquid passed her lips, she switched tactics. “You scream,” she said, reaching out to claw at his eyes. He roared in pain and Emily managed to knock the flask from his hands. But she just couldn’t manage to wrench free.

Anton grabbed her by the neck and pinned her to the bed with one hand as he groped for the flask with the other.

Emily couldn’t help but keep both hands fastened around the arm that was cutting off her oxygen. “Evie,” she croaked as her vision began to fade. “Help me.”

But her sister didn’t appear.

“Drink,” Anton snarled, putting the flask to her lips. He relaxed his grip on her neck and Emily couldn’t help but gasp for air. He took the opportunity to tip what was left of the liquid into her mouth. He clamped a hand over Em’s mouth as she began to cough. “No, you don’t. Swallow it down. Swallow!”

She did. She couldn’t help it.

When she had, Anton took his hand away and let her breathe again. With every breath, the world seemed to get more blurry and unsteady.

“Good,” said Anton from far away. “That’s it, go to sleep now.”

The weight pinning her down disappeared and someone lifted her legs all the way onto the bed.

Emily blinked, trying to clear her vision. She tried to shake her head, but it just lolled to one side. “Now, now.” Fingers reached out and pushed her eyelids closed. “Don’t fight it.”

She tried to open her eyes again, but they were just too heavy.

She lay in darkness, struggling desperately not to be swallowed by it.

Suddenly a face swam into view through the black. It was Anton. He was on his phone again, looking annoyed. “Not quite,” he was saying, “but she’s out for the moment. I’ll need some more. She didn’t exactly get a full dose.”

Her view shifted away from him and went out through a wall. A door came into view. It had a chair wedged under the handle. She saw hands reach out and grip it.

Suddenly fire exploded in her chest and the vision disappeared. Emily tried to scream, but only managed a moan. But the pain had been enough to force her eyes open. She stared at the blurry white expanse of the ceiling until Evelyn appeared above her, oddly in focus.

“Get up,” she hissed. “Get up now, Emmy, we haven’t got long.”

Emily tried to lift her head, but it was too heavy and it made the room sway.

“Get up!” Evelyn begged, shooting a glance over shoulder. “I unlocked the door, but you’ve got to hurry.”

“Can’t,” Emily moaned.

Evelyn swiped a hand through Emily’s face, sending a shock of cold through her. Emily gasped and her vision cleared a bit. She managed to push herself up onto her elbows. The room was still blurry and tipping back and forth, but she could make out the door well enough. Em tipped herself off the bed, landing on her hands and knees on the plush carpet.

Evelyn was there, crouched next to her. She wrapped a cold, not-there hand around Emily’s arm, making her shiver again. “Come on, Emmy,” she begged.

Slowly, Emily sat up on her knees. Then, bracing on the bed, she managed to get unsteadily to her feet. Her head cleared a bit with each movement, but she still swayed as she stepped away from the bed.

She put both hands out and managed to totter over to the closet. Then she felt her way around the corner and to the door. She groped for the handle and got it to turn.

Evelyn appeared in the main room as Emily shoved the door open and gripped the doorframe. “You can do it, Emmy,” she said, glancing worriedly at Anton’s door. “Hurry! You can make it.”

Emily tottered her way over to the couch and then across to the kitchen island, still covered in pizza and plates.

Evelyn appeared at the front door, holding out her arms. “Come on,” she urged. “Just one more big push.”

Emily reached her hands out for her sister. She took two big steps, but she’d forgotten that Evelyn couldn’t catch her. Em’s legs gave out and she fell to her knees in front of the door.

Evelyn knelt next to her. “Come on, Emmy.” She glanced over her shoulder. “You have to do it! Now!”

Emily gripped the handle in both hands and turned it. She toppled out into the hallway with a moan.

“You did it!” Evelyn said, appearing above her. “Now, close the door and get up.”

Emily dragged her legs over the threshold and kicked the door shut again. Then she rolled onto her hands and knees. She crawled to the wall, then clawed her way back to her feet.

“No,” said Evelyn, as Em started toward the gold blur of the elevator doors. “Not that way.”

She pointed in the opposite direction to a pair of shiny, wide steel doors set in the opposite end of the hallway. They were closer, whatever they were, so Emily lumbered in the direction her dead twin had indicated.

After what seemed like an eternity, Emily stumbled against the cool metal of the doors. It was another elevator. She groped for the down button on the little control pad, but it wasn’t a button at all. It was a key hole.

“What now?” she moaned, dropping to her knees again.

“Wait here.” Evelyn stepped through the silver doors.

The realization that her dead sister still wanted to kill her clawed its way up through Emily’s murky mind. This could easily be a trap. Maybe she’d open the doors to the empty shaft and Emily would fall right in.

She pushed away from the doors with a hopeless sob. A thud from down the hall, drew her attention. She looked back to see a dark form emerging from a door. She couldn’t make out who it was, but she could guess. She tried to get to her knees, but the fiery pain in her chest flared up again and even her arms gave out.

“Emmy, get in!” Evie cried from behind her.

Emily glanced back to see that the elevator was open and her sister was inside, holding an entreating arm out.

Em dragged herself across the threshold and into the elevator.

“The button!” said Evie, pointing to the bottommost of the countless circles on the control pad to the side of the doors. “Press this one. Hurry, he’s coming!”

Emily stabbed the button and got an answering ding from above. A few moments later, the doors slid shut. She heard a frustrated roar and a thump from the other side.

Evelyn sighed and sank down next to Emmy. “We did it.”

“He’ll follow us,” said Emily.

Evie shook her head. “It’s a freight elevator. It goes to the basement. The other one doesn’t. He’ll have to take the stairs.”

“I’m too tired,” Em sobbed. “I can’t get up anymore. I can’t run.”

“You have to,” Evelyn told her. “Just a bit farther. Someone’s here to get you. We just have to make it to the parking lot.”

“Who?” Emily whispered.

“I don’t know,” said Evie. “I can only see him in the distance.”

The ride seemed to take forever. Emily tried to keep her eyes open, but it got harder and harder as time passed and her pounding heart circulated the sedative. Somewhere along the way, her eyes fell closed again.

Emily heard a faraway ding and then the rumble of the doors opening, but couldn’t seem to will herself to move. After a moment, she heard another ding and what she knew must be the doors closing again.

“No!” she heard a faraway voice exclaim.

A shock of cold ran through her, but it wasn’t enough to cut through the stupor.

Then came another burst of fire from her chest. Em groaned and stirred, her eyes falling open. She saw the doors slide open a second time to reveal a dark, cement room. Evie appeared, glowing eerily in the gloom.

“Get out!” she exclaimed. “I can’t do that again. I haven’t got the strength.”

There was another ding and the doors began to slide shut. Emily stuck her hand out and they retreated again. Then she pulled herself forward, inch by inch until she was laying on cold concrete.

“Come on,” said Evie, crouching next to her. “It’s not far now.” She turned and pointed into the gloom. “Just out that door and you’re in the parking lot. See the door?”

Emily blinked her vision clear and could just make out a rectangle with a dim halo of light around it. She nodded. “I see it.”

“Get to it. Get outside. You can do it, Emmy.” And then Evie disappeared, leaving Emily in total darkness.

Grunting, Emily rolled onto her hands and knees. She didn’t think she had the strength to walk, so she crawled. The door wasn’t far, but it was slow going. Finally, she reached it. She gripped the handle in both hands and used it to drag herself onto her feet. She twisted and used her weight to push it open, stumbling out into the muggy summer night .

She stared around the parking lot, but all she could make out was darkness with a few blobs of light from the street lamps. Evie had lied. There was no one. She dropped to her knees again, gravel grinding into her bare hands and shins.

Suddenly an engine roared to life. She winced as a truck neared, pinning her in its headlights. It pulled alongside her and the passenger door swung open.

“Get in,” said a gruff voice.

Emily shook her head. She didn’t know this man. He could be anybody. It could be a trick.

“I’m here to help you, honey,” said the man, “but you gotta get in.”

What choice did she have? Em reached for the door and dragged herself up and into the truck. She heaved the door closed again and they rumbled off.

“You okay?” she heard the man ask as she slumped over onto the dashboard. But she couldn’t find the strength to form an answer.

So, there you go. From there things really take off. Speaking of, here’s my progress for today:

So, I’m on chapter 4 now and on track to hit 25,000 words tomorrow. This’ll probably be the last excerpt I put up, but I feel like it’s where the action really kicks off, so I wanted to share. Again, it’s in no way the finished, polished version. Te…

So, this year’s NaNo novel features not one, but two people with disabilities. The main character suddenly can’t talk because of magic. And a pretty important supporting character is in a wheelchair because of a bullet to the spine. It’s a bit daunting…

Well, I decided to go ahead and post part of my NaNo novel. I’ll probably just put the first chapter or two up and it’s definitely nowhere near the finished, polished version. But what the heck, here goes: Emily tried to move, but the pain was too muc…

Well, it’s Day 2 of NaNo, and so far I’m going strong. I didn’t make it to my area’s write-in Sunday. I went home to WI instead, but I still managed to meet my 2,500 word goal for Sunday. I’m thinking maybe the write-ins wouldn’t actually help my writi…