Commas and Quotations: Excerpt from 'Controlling the Dead, The Famished Trilogy

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Wednesday, February 5, 2014

Excerpt from 'Controlling the Dead, The Famished Trilogy - Book 2' by Annie Walls

Dark Fantasy 18+

“Darlin’?” I sigh at the whisper in my ear. “Darlin’, I love you. I love you. I love you.” The whisper is a far away echo. “Darlin’!” he screams.

My eyes pop open, and I flinch back, blinking them against the bright sunlight. A gray textured dashboard sits in front of me, and I rest my head on the passenger door window. I’m in the jeep. Sweat beads my upper lip from the hot sun shining through the window. I can’t tell where we are, but we aren’t moving.

With a small smile, I turn to the driver. “Where are we?” I ask Rudy.

He snarls at me. My heart and stomach drop to new depths. His bloodshot eyes fill my vision as his big body lunges over the middle console into me. My hands fly out to keep his snapping mouth away from me. Rotten breath huffs in my face. The skin of his neck is clammy under my fingertips. He has the strength of the newly changed. I choke on my gasp as I look into his eyes. The tricolored irises are buried beneath popped veins. He’s not Rudy anymore. His large body moves awkwardly in the small space. My arms buckle under his weight. There isn’t time to think. Instincts kick in as I jerk on the door handle. The door swings open with a metallic screech as our combined weight falls to the ground. Gravel digs into my back as his weight tumbles over me, giving me time to pull my gun and get into a sitting position.

Time seems to slow, becoming nothing. My chest pounds as I try to see through tears. Violent sobs wrack my body as the gun shakes in my unsteady hands. I watch in heart crushing despair as he rights himself enough to come after me. This seems to take forever because he has such a large body. His matted hair sticks to his face. Blood and mud stain his white muscle shirt. His frayed jeans are ripped in places and several blood spots have ruined them.

He hisses at me. My soul screams in agony at what I have to do. I heave, feeling the burning fluid come up my throat. I put my hand to my mouth as I try to hold it down. Liquid spews out from between my fingers as I lean over to release the contents of my stomach. I can’t do it. I can’t kill him. Not again. I wouldn’t be able to live. I’d rather he eat me.

Time speeds up then. Gravel crunches under his booted feet. He’s on me in no time. My gun is pointed at him. My finger tightens on the trigger, but trembles. Indecision clouds my mind as his spittle spurts to join the tears on my face.

I bolt awake, drenched in sweat.

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