Two and Three

Frostbite and Acid Cake

"Ow.

Ow.

Ow.

Ow. Ow. OW."

Lisha never claimed to be a hero, so she wasn't sure why the fates wanted her to do everything the hard way. Why did kidnappers have to live in ridiculous isolated houses out in the middle of nowhere instead of in a nice subdivision where she could run to the neighbors and borrow a phone?

Night was just settling in at the time of her great escape, and with the night came, yes, you guessed it, more cold. She wrapped her arms around herself to keep warmth. No. Not warmth. Warmth wasn't even an idea to her. She wrapped arms around herself to keep less cold. It was too dark to tell left from right and even if she was able to chart her course, she wasn't sure she would have been able to remember anything memorable.

So you see officer, to get to the house, first thing you'll see is a tree, follow that tree until you get to another tree. Repeat. After about twenty trees you'll get to a rock, it's pretty evil; I think I skinned my knee on it. You'll know which direction to go in when you spot a huge fallen log ten feet away. Be careful. That log is also evil, it'll try to eat your feet if you're not wearing shoes. You should definitely wear shoes when you go looking for them. Word of warning, everything in the forest is evil. Then after the log you'll see a tree....

Lisha's back arched and her neck snapped sharply to one side as she tried to suppress her shivers, but the impromptu cold exposure and her less than suitable apparel for the frostbitten night had her mind spinning like it did when she accidentally drank Tony's spiked eggnog last Christmas.

She ran face first into a tree.

The momentum took her off her feet, so she laid there, unmoving in the blanket of morning frost. Her head rolled back into the leaves to look up to the sky. It was only a moth's breath lighter than the silhouettes of the trees, but was still nice look at.

...Was she supposed to be doing something? She didn't know...

Eh.... Probably not that important anyway.

Out there, away from the light pollution of their small town, Lisha could see everything, yet nothing at all. The stars seemed to twist and dance before her, capturing all the fun and innocence of the night you tell your kids about before they go to sleep. There was something about the night sky that always seemed to whisper things into her ears. Her mind was always at it's clearest when she let the stars speak to her and give their insight on what the universe planned next.

She chanted an old poem under her breath with a dull smile.

"Music fades with bursts of none.
To pave the path for futures won.
And deal the plight to innocent eyes,
A covent of angels leave winter's demise.
Of Nameless nigh shall restore the theft.
And music will kneel to the shadow of death."

She wondered if she'd live long enough to know what it meant.

Lisha tried to curl her fingers, but found that they were frozen stiff. Something floundered at the back of her mind, but she was unsure of what it was. There was definitely something she should have been doing besides collecting ice crystals on her eye lashes.

What do you see in the sky?

And in a snap, it all came rushing back to her. That night. Those days. Her epic escape that should have taken up more than five hundred words in a single chapter. Lisha forced herself to her feet, pretending that her blood was nicotine instead frozen.

Minutes melted into hours, yet the forest seemed to know no end. Each tick of the second hand brought new obstacles to the forefront of reality. Suddenly twigs were knives, ice was fire, and air was the acid that frosted this cake of hell. The smallest shadows sent her heart racing.

She glanced over her shoulder, and during one such shadow instances, came face to face with the hooded mask that would forever haunt her nightmares if she ever brought herself to dream again. He was back, though he hadn't seen yet her. A hunting rifle hung cocked in the crook of his arm, finger ready on the trigger to shoot anything that moved. Lisha froze (metaphorically this time) behind her tree and watched in horror as he ambled toward her, not even bothering to hush his movement.

She tried to remember all the things that were said when they were discussing their kidnapper's weaknesses. He uses a gun.

Well duh.

If you disarm him, you might be able to take him down.

He doesn't look weak.....maybe if I catch him by surprise, walk out with my hands raised then strike him when he least expects it. Maybe....just maybe ...

Nah. Nope.

Hopefully he can't hear me breathing....

Any other plans Lisha came up with in that short amount of time went down the drain when the guy turned his back. Instinct told her to make like lightning, and bolt. As soon as his back was turned, Lisha shedded all common sense and ran like she could put enough distance between them before a bullet came between her and five beams of freedom. Shots rang out into the forest, sending masses of black birds to the sky, but that only made her run faster. Nothing at all like being shot at to make one realize how fast they really are.

On estimation, Lisha calculated that she had run about three straight mikes before she made it to the town. (Though maybe she was just flattering herself.) It wasn't South Hampton, but it was a town and towns had phones, and blankets, and water....

The first building she made it to was completely empty, void of everything from food stuffs to ceiling stuffs. There were several buildings like that, followed by a strip mall that wasn't yet open, but finally, once she was ready to pass out, she made it to a house. A small, humble, one story house. She reached up and rang the doorbell like a mad man with a nerve disorder.

Some five minutes later, a middle aged woman in a bathrobe opened the door wearily. The sax player had obviously woken her up. Her jaw dropped when she saw Lisha and for a minute she didn't say anything. The student was just about to point out how impolite it was to stare -- even if she did look like she had just survived a zombie apocalypse -- when the woman gasped. "You were on the news the past couple days; you're one of the ones they're looking for." She snapped her head to her left and yelled. "Steve! Get out of bed! Now!" Then hurriedly stepped aside to make some room into the corridor. "Please, come inside quickly. It's cold out and --"

Bang.

Suddenly a loud blast erupted from somewhere behind her. The woman looked at Lisha in shock then brought a hand up to her forehead. It came away red. The sax player screamed as blood spilled down the woman's face in a waterfall of burgundy. Not a moment later, she fell to the ground in squelchy lump.

Steve, the guy who must have been her husband was just heading down the stairs when he saw his wife dead on the floor with her blood spattered all over Lisha's face. Before he even had time be shocked, much less angry, two more shots rang out and he crumpled face first down the rest of the stairs.

Lisha trembled in shock.

They were dead.

Both dead....

Suddenly a heavy hand came down on her shoulder and she looked up to see a hood and mask staring back at her. "Tsk tsk," his voice gargled through the voice box. "Why did you have to do that Lisha? Why, did you have to kill more innocent people?"

"I-I -- I didn't --"

"Don't worry, Lisha," he hit her over the head with his rifle and she fell into a heavy pile at his feet. "I can help you."

A/N

Now that was a nice chapter wasn't it? I rather enjoyed writing it. :D

So in your opinion, does this story convey the action well for my particular writing style?

So many references to le next book.

#BloodAndDeepDishPizza

.....I spent a couple hours making deep dish pizza yesterday and there were a couple slices left and my dad ate all of it. I already gave him a fair share ..... #MurderousRage

*covers ears* my parents need to stop flirting