Retrograde

Retrograde | Chapter 15

Author's note:  

Goodness gracious - I'm atrocious at updating, and I'm so sorry.  I really appreciate everyone who's stuck with the story, despite my absence.  Thank you, thank you.  I hated the first draft of the chapter, went to Australia for three weeks, and then had a massive writer's block.  I really want to do the story justice for you all.  (I'm not sure I achieved it in this chapter, but you've waited long enough)

Ever the optimist, I've already started Ch 16, so hopefully it'll come sooner than all the rest.  

Lots of love to you all.  Hope you're staying healthy and happy.

Love, 
Ames

P.S. Some folks have asked me how many more chapters.  I'm thinking we're about 3-4 from the end. ❤️😘)

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Previously on Retrograde:

The softest groan escapes her lips, and Sonny wraps his big arm around her shoulders, drawing her closer, silent tears streaming down his face as he squeezes Evie just that little bit tighter, needing her comfort.

And it is here that they recognize that Engin gave his life for his country but, in the process, gifted them each other. A family bonded by love and grief so they may never be alone.

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Twilight descends on the field. The willow tree is in the distance, and a frosty wind bites at Eda's cheeks. She tugs on the edges of her thick winter jacket, overlapping the fabric across her body, and squints through the heavy fog.

A little boy hangs upside down from the grand old branches — his little blue chino shorts and green polo shirt camouflaging him against the impending night.

Why is he here? Eda must save him - he's too small, and it's too cold to be left alone as she runs across the grass.

He's laughing...the sound is musical, and then he's crying, pleading with an invisible someone. Her eyes dart over the landscape, but the tree somehow grows more distant with every step forward.

Panic overtakes her. She can't get to him - no matter how hard she tries.

Eda calls out. "Are you hurt!?" and frantically fumbles through her jacket pockets for anything that could give her more light in the darkness.

Running toward the cries, Eda screams that she's coming, that everything will be OK, but is suddenly stopped short by the little boy now standing in the middle of the field, his back straight, face serious.

"You can't save me," he whispers with haunted ocean eyes. "You can't save them."

Eda flinches, "Let me help you," she reaches for the boy. "I can help you. Just take my hand...."

"He's dead. They're all dead. You will be too."

Eda opens her mouth in question but is stalled by a murder of crows between them, their wings beating down on them, pushing them further and further apart, spinning Eda around and around, and knocking her to the ground.

Images flash as she's falling. A cackling woman smoking a cigarette, a man stroking a grenade, a coffin...the soil being tossed as it's lowered into the ground.

Darkness.

Eda is torn from her slumber, breathless and panicked. Her hand clutches her heart, fearing it might leap from her chest.

"What the hell?" she whispers into the night, trying to get her bearings. She glances to the bedside and reaches for her notebook, eager to get down as much of the dream as she can remember. With only seconds passing, the details grow fainter, but the feeling of dread and panic is unmistakable.