Daughter of Sand

Chapter 2

For a split second my uncle and I froze, and when he spoke, his low hiss barely reached my ears.

"Upstairs. Now. If you hear anyone coming up the stairs, climb out of my bedroom window and get out of here."

Even though I couldn't comprehend the change that had come over Matt, transforming my laughing and happy-go-lucky uncle into this serious man, I scrambled backwards, disappearing into the darkened recesses of the house. I used the faint light coming through the covered windows and my memory to guide me to the stairs. As I did, I could hear the faint sound of my uncle opening the door, which was followed by terse words.

Head spinning, I froze partway up the stairs, straining to hear the discussion. A billion different possibilities as to what was going on flooded through my mind, but all were too far-fetched to actually be occurring. It's just a power outage, and whoever's at the door just happened to show up at-

That's when the gun went off. 

The explosion restarted my movement, and I found myself racing up the stairs in a mad dash to safety. I could feel the blood pulsing through my body, and the adrenaline being carried by it. I could sense it as frantic energy was injected into my limbs, and I used it to obey my uncle; I raced as silently as I could to his room and locked the door behind me. 

Panting quietly, I opened the window, trying my best to ignore the trembling in my fingers. I finally unlatched it, and I stood there straining to hear even the slightest sound. 

No more shots had been fired, but the sounds of a scuffle drummed themselves into my ears. 

A knot of dread tied itself in my stomach, and my mouth went dry with worry for Matt. I wanted to fling the door open and race downstairs to help him, but I was frozen in place. I hated myself for it, but I found that the only thing I was capable of was standing beside the open window and breathing. 

Then, as if my brain had shut off, and my body had taken over, I found my hands scrabbling at open his already-unlatched window and forcing my wooden legs out of it. I scaled the wallside lattice without thought or effort, thanks to the days my uncle and I had spent climbing and hiking.

My uncle. My uncle- My mind slammed to a halt, something in me saying gently that I was going to find myself running back towards the kitchen if I didn't stop thinking for the moment.

As soon as my feet hit the ground, I was moving again. The scenery blurred around me as I ran, hair in my mouth and tears clouding my eyes. A voice in the back of my head muttered that once I stopped moving, I was going to fall apart, and everything was going to come crashing in on me. So I ran, dodging confused neighbors and trashcans, jumping fences. I swerved into an alley dividing two houses, and knew immediately that I had made an immense mistake.

A dark silhouette rose before me, outlined in the bright sunlight on the other side of the alley. I slammed to a halt just in time to realize that footsteps were pattering a sardonic round of applause on the sidewalk behind me, as well. My throat constricted, and as my eyes flickered left and right, looking for a way out, my heart gave a leap.

Just to my left was a garbage heap, piled ever-so-helpfully against a stack of crates. My rock climbing training told me confidently that I could easily reach the roof of the shabby apartment from the crates.

"Asha Bachchan, please don't make this any harder for any of us," a deep voice drawled from just behind me, "it will only result in making hurt for you, and more work for us." 

I used this moment to launch myself towards my escape route, easily launching myself from the trash onto the crates-turned-ladder. As I leapt upwards, my hands latching onto the edge of the roof, a bubble of relief welled in my chest.

Then the tile of the roof tore free.

I heard the gruff shouts of whoever was chasing me as I fell, just before my head slammed into the concrete below.

Then I heard nothing.