Friday Snippet Meme
Things are *finally* settling down here at home.
Hopefully I'll be my chattery self soon. In the mean time, we're with Lars and
Jess
again.
**The
following excerpt is first draft narrative, likely full of errors, and many
changes are yet to come. Please do not quote or assume this is final text. All
words are ©2007, Tamara Siler Jones, all rights
reserved.**
Stain of
Corruption
Chapter
3
Scene
6
A fist-sized stone punched through the arena roof
and pounded into the straw at Jess’s feet. Lars shoved her back, behind
him, then wrenched her aside as another jagged stone, this one roughly the size
of her head, burst through. It bounced up against Lars’s thigh, knocking
him to the ground.
“What’s
happening?” Jess asked, dragging him to his feet. “Goddess,
you’re
bleeding!”
“I’ll be
all right.” Stumbling, Lars pulled her along, more stones banging on the
roof and snapping through to rain all around them and scour them with grit.
Something heavy slammed hard on Jess’s upper back. She tripped, crying
out, but Lars kept dragging her forward, past the pummeled area, even when a
jagged chip tore a long gash in his
arm.
Once safe, they stopped and caught
their breath, looking to the roof. More stones rained down in a clattering
granite shower. Some were charred, others little more than dust and rubble,
filtering through holes their larger brethren had
made.
Another blast shook the ground
and fresh powder filtered through the existing holes on the roof, but no other
stones punched through. Outside, people screamed. Lars braved a step forward,
but Jess grabbed his hand. “You’re
bleeding.
Let me tend it,
please.”
He paused and stared at
his drenched arm, nodding slowly. Then he fell, sitting on the ground, blood
from his thigh staining the straw.
Jess
ran for her book bag, skirting the stones and falling debris. She snatched it
and hurried back to him, pulling the dagger from her bag as she ran. She fell to
her knees beside him, dropping the bag, and pulled out her wadded
underskirt.
“You all
right?” she asked as she sliced a seam open and tore off a long
strip.
“Yeah, I think so. Just
startled is all.” He chuckled slightly and rolled his head back.
“Didn’t hurt until you mentioned
it.”
She cut off his sodden
sleeve and wrapped his arm, glancing back at the trickle of dust and grit.
“What happened out
there?”
“No idea. Some sort
of explosion.” The arm finished, he pushed himself to his feet and turned
his face away as she pulled bits of straw out of his
leg.
She tore another strip from her
underskirt and debated cutting off his trouser leg as her face heated.
They’d never done anything more than share kisses and a few innocent
caresses. Perhaps removing almost half of his pants would be too intimate.
No. Intimate or not, I have to tend
it. She shook her head and swallowed, plucking
the fabric from his thigh a few fingerwidths above his injury. “I can go
look.” A deep breath, and she started in with the dagger. “After
I’m done here.”
He grasped
her wrist and pulled her to her feet. “No. You’re staying right
here. And I can wrap the leg. It doesn’t feel that bad. Can you,
um...” Fidgeting, he made a turning motion with his
hand.
She nodded, chewing her lip and
turning her face aside as he blushed scarlet and reached for the fastenings of
his trousers. She started to step away, but he grasped her hand.
His eyes bored into her, urgent and
demanding. “Stay here, stay close.” It was the voice he used on the
job, serious and threatening. A voice never to
disobey.
She nodded and turned her back
to him without glancing from his face. Her breath shook as she heard him disrobe
and she clasped her blood smeared hands together to keep them from shaking. She
looked up, through the roof to sky darkened by a burbling stain of
smoke.
“Are you all right?”
Lars asked. “Your back’s all
bloody.”
“What?” She
turned, alarmed, and glimpsed him still struggling with his leg before she
snapped back to face the rubble again.
Blue undershorts and muscular
legs, she thought, scrunching her eyes shut.
She turned her face upward and swallowed an unexpected mouthful of saliva.
Goddess, he’s half
nak--
“Are you
hurt?” he asked. “Can you move
your right arm? Your
shoulder?”
“I can move it
fine,” she choked out, raising her arm and waving at him. She heard a
jingle behind her, keys or change in his pockets, she decided, and a few moments
later she felt his hand on her back, brushing below her right
shoulder.
“How about your
head?” He ran his fingertips over the back of her head, his touch urgent,
searching, not the soothing caress she’d become accustomed
to.
“It’s fine, other than
the bumps I got while we were
practicing.”
He came around her,
one hand smeared with bloody, creamy goop. “Then how’d you get
brains on your back?”
Stomach
doing a slow roll, she squeaked, “Brains?”
Her knees quaked and threatened to
buckle, but he grasped her by the arm and held her still, his cleaner hand
caressing sweaty hair from her face. “Stay with me. All
right?”
She nodded and squeezed
his hand, intending to never let
go.
They’d walked perhaps twenty
steps into the rubble when Jess let out a low squeal and turned aside.
A
head, she thought fighting against her rising
panic. It’s someone’s
head! Then she yelped and backed into Lars.
Not five lengths away, a bloody foot lay partially covered by rocks and grit.
She saw other bloody bits scattered in the mess and a low squeal escaped her
throat.
“Stay here,” Lars
said. He released her
hand.
Goddess, don’t
leave me! she thought, but she stared at her
feet and held perfectly
still.
“It’s a
woman,” he said from her left. “But her face is too charred to see
who--”
Jess shook her head and
wanted to be sick. “Don’t.
Please.”
He stood, sighing. A
long moment later, he said, “Okay. We’re obviously here alone. I
need you to go get my jacket, all right? My work supplies are in the
pockets.”
She opened her eyes and
looked at him, at the steady expression on his face. “Get your jacket. I
can do that.”
Stumbling over
rocks and a steaming bit of flesh, Jess
ran.
Posted: Friday - August 17, 2007 at 12:13 AM
|
