Conquest (The Angels Of Chicago Book 1) by Somersby C.J

Author:Somersby, C.J. [Somersby, C.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dagda Publishing Ltd
Published: 2015-07-01T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

I was running.

I was on the shore of a lake, running parallel to its crystal blue waters. The sand was warm beneath my feet and the sun shone down on me from above. I barely noticed any of these things as my legs pounded as fast as they could, my heart beating frantically as I prayed they were not catching up to me.

They were. I heard the gallop of horses over my shoulder and I turned to see my pursuers charging towards me, their blue uniforms distinct even at this distance. Both of them had swords raised above their heads as they turned onto the sand and bore down on me, the hooves of their steeds kicking up great plumes of sand in their wake as they charged. I was never going to outrun them like this, but I refused to be taken so easily.

I passed an outcrop of rocks on the beach, counted a few paces in my head, and then turned and flung my hands out towards them, willing them to move with the powers at my disposal. Several of the rocks, some the size of a human skull, lifted from the sand and flew at high speed towards my pursuers. The largest caught one of my pursuers square in the jaw and sent him flying from his horse and into the sand. The other managed to evade the flying obstacles and continued to close on me. He would be in striking range within moments.

I was utterly exhausted. I pushed as much energy into my legs as I could, but my muscles were weakening by the moment. There was no way I could escape. Eventually I stumbled, as I already knew that I would, and fell to my knees at the water’s edge, panting hard. The face of a Native American stared back at me. I did not understand, but I had little time to wonder. I heard a cry behind me and turned, seeing the horseman upon me. His sabre was raised above his head and he snarled some kind of curse at me. I put my hands up to protect myself, but to no avail. The sabre fell through the air, and I saw the Native American’s panicked expression in its reflection.

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