Fallen - Mia Sheridan Page 0,1

she considered not getting up. She considered lying right there on the forest floor and just . . . giving up. It would be so easy. She rolled to her back, gazing up at the stars through a break in the branches.

Don’t give up on yourself. I haven’t. She heard her friend Scarlett’s passionate tone in her head, the words she’d said to her not so long ago and the memory bolstered her. Kandace pulled herself slowly to her feet. She had given up on herself. She’d made so many mistakes, had so many regrets. She hadn’t listened to Scarlett then, the only real friend she’d ever had, but she’d listen to her now. She wouldn’t give up, not when it mattered most.

There was a large rock near where she’d fallen and Kandace took off the leather satchel, taking in a deep breath before using what strength she had left to push at the rock. Sweat and blood dripped down her spine as the rock slowly rolled, leaving a large crater in the dirt where it’d been. Kandace went down on her knees, using her hands to dig a deeper hole. She folded the leather satchel up, using the strap to wrap around it, placed it in the fresh hole, and then pushed the rock back where it’d been, scattering pine needles and dead leaves around it. Standing, she used her feet to smooth out the ground. She took a moment to assess the hiding place, and then satisfied it didn’t look as though it’d been disturbed, she turned and moved on.

Despite being unencumbered by the bag, Kandace was slower now, but still she traveled forward. The trees began to thin, making movement easier, the terrain turning rockier, large boulders as tall as people, outlined by the moon. When she came to a clearing, she stopped, panting, turning in a slow circle. A canyon was in front of her, the forest behind. There was nowhere to travel forward, but she couldn’t turn around. Something shrieked overhead causing her to jump and let out a terror-laced squeal. Her heart pounded in her head . . . only, no, no, the pounding was coming from outside of her. Slower, steadier than the panicked rhythm of the blood pumping in her veins. A drumbeat, drawing closer. Cold dread settled in her gut. Tears spilled out of Kandace’s eyes and tracked down her cheeks as fear vibrated through her. No, no, this can’t be real.

A dark shadow with large, curved horns moved behind a tree to her right and she stumbled backward, her head pivoting as the shadow appeared between two trees to her left. The world tilted, swimming before her eyes. She felt hot and cold, shivering and burning. Her teeth began to chatter. The shadow appeared again and again, moving impossibly fast, seeming to be everywhere at once, the drumbeat rising, a slow chant echoing words she didn’t know. Words from another place, another time. Kandace let out a choked sob stumbling backward, away from that unknown horror.

She turned back to the woods, toward the enemy she could identify, the enemy she had a chance of fighting, of hiding from. A blow smacked into her flank, causing her to whirl around, clutching at her midsection as she fell. Shouts. More voices. Blearily she saw the man who’d just shot her turn and raise his arm toward the sky to signal the others forward.

A bolt of lightning streaked across the heavens and before the coming thunder rumbled, a fur-covered creature surrounded her from behind, and Kandace jolted, opening her mouth to scream but unable to utter a sound.

“Holy fuck! Did you see it? The thing!” said a man’s voice—one of them—high and panicked.

Weakly, she attempted to fight, but whatever it was, it was too big, too strong—inhuman—and she was so tired, so weak. Dying. It picked her up effortlessly and ran, something clanging at its side, chanting as it moved, its voice gritty and unused. She caught one word, garbled but recognizable because of its strangeness: Novaatngar. She’d heard it before, recognized it from the legend the kid had told her. The Dark Place.

Oh God no. No no no.

Fat droplets of rain hit her face as another spear of lightning ripped the sky in two, shaking the ground and rattling her teeth.

But God will strike you down once and for all! He will pull you from your home and uproot you from the land of the living!

Perhaps Ms. Wykes had been right. Perhaps

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