Keeping up with Astrid shouldn’t be this hard – she’s old enough to be my mother – but I’m more out of shape than I thought. Still, I keep her in my sights even as my lungs burn and my body protests the burning of calories I can’t spare.
“Hurry! She’s getting worse…” Claire’s voice comes through the walkie-talkies, the panic in it enough to keep me going.
I round the corner barely fast enough to see her dart into an abandoned building. At first glance it looks like it’s ready to fall apart, but Astrid always picks safehouses carefully, so I don’t think twice about following her.
Up a flight of stairs and down the hall, Astrid stands at a door, waving at me to move faster. It would annoy me if not for the urgency on her face, and cries of pain coming from the room.
“Elle? What’s happening?” She’s on her side, her body curled in on itself. I try to get close, but her aura singes my skin, and I have to jump back. “Shit!”
“I see she didn’t overstate the issue – something’s really wrong with your angel.”
“She’s not mine.” But I do feel responsible for her. Dammit. “This place is guarded against wraiths, right?”
“Just this room.”
“Okay. Shut the door. Whatever happens, do not leave. Not until I wake up.” I lay down, hoping I’m not as out of practice at astral projection as I am at running.
This is me, making an attempt to commit to finishing Withered Legacy during this upcoming #NaNoWriMo.
Wish me luck!
Be sure to check out the rest of the responses at the prompt.
As always, think happy thoughts 🙂