Shadows and Shafts by V.T. Bonds

Author:V.T. Bonds [Bonds, V.T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

Jennifer

My knees wobble and legs shake so hard I can barely stand, much less weave my way through the crowd, but I shoulder onward like I have no choice.

Because I don’t. I won’t survive if they catch me. I don’t know how I’m still alive.

There’s no way I can escape them. I know that. It’s obvious, but I can’t admit defeat.

I hurt yet don’t feel anything. My insides throb and a sharp ache spears through my groin with every step I take. Determination keeps my toes pointed toward the front door. My shirt won’t sit on my breasts right. Probably because I put it on backward.

My brain flips from hypervigilant to floaty. One moment, I see every speck of dust in the air, the next I can barely make out the shapes of people around me.

Shock. I must be in shock.

The car. Get to the car.

No. Call a cab.

What do smart people do?

A giggle bubbles up from my chest, the idea that I might do something smart ridiculously hilarious.

I reach the entrance and realize I don’t have my purse.

Of course I don’t. I barely remembered to pull my skirt and top back on.

With my hair matted and slime coating the inside of my legs, I wobble toward the bouncer and open my mouth to speak. A shriek from outside grabs my attention. The bouncer’s bushy eyebrows scrunch, but my body already faces the familiar voice and there’s no way I can force myself to retrace my steps.

I need to get as far from here as possible.

Stepping out onto the sidewalk, the chilly fall air pebbles my exposed flesh. I wrap my arms tighter around myself and head toward the voice as it shrieks again. When I turn the corner toward the parking lot, I spot my roommates staggering through the parked cars. Tia and her man, who seems almost effeminate compared to the monsters I just fled, support each other as they weave toward the back corner of the lot. They’ve already passed the car. Neither seems capable of standing on their own.

My eyes latch on to Becca. She screams and waves her arms around, anger in her every gesture. I can’t focus on her words, but she stares at her boyfriend, who’s name I can’t remember, and stomps her foot.

Despite supporting myself on every car as I pass, none of their alarms go off, and by the time I enter the illuminated circle from the parking lot’s light pole, an odd calm falls over me. Nothing matters except getting home. I can lock the door to my room and pretend like none of this ever happened. I can. I will.

Becca finally notices me.

“Where have you been?!”

The accusation in her tone throws off my balance. I catch myself on the hood of her car.

“I want to go home.”

Hoarse from screaming, my voice hardly sounds like my own, but the words emerge with relative ease since I mean them with my whole heart. At least, I think I mean them.

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