Page 7 of Stealing Embers

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.

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