It's that time of year when the sponsors of the YA Indie Carnival post stories or excerpts that will have you biting your nails and begging for people to sleep with you for the next few days. This post is timely for me. I'm writing a scene for Dark Angels of the Cross, and it has had such an unexpected impact on me that my sleep has become fitful and restless because my dreams are so deadly... foretelling... and--worst of all--real!
Anyone who has read The Warrior Series knows I will not shy away from suspenseful or thrilling or brutal scenes. The one I'm living through is so much more. It's all of that rolled into one and built on top of an extreme sense of loss. I won't say anything more, but fans of the series are in store for lots of surprises. Just stay tuned.
In the meantime, I've included the parking garage scene from Guardians of the Cross. This is one of the scariest scenes of the book according to my beta reader. If you've ever had to walk alone through a dark parking garage at night, you can understand why.
Don't forget to take a few minutes to browse the other members' sites. ENJOY!
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Brody screeched
to a stop, jumped out of the car, grabbed Mallory, and carried her toward the
ER. “Allie, park the car and meet us
inside,” he called over his shoulder.
Unable to do
anything but follow directions, I climbed into the driver’s seat. At the automated garage gate, I pushed the
red light and sat impatiently while the arm slowly lifted, allowing me entrance. I didn’t bother taking the yellow
time-stamped ticket from the machine. I
was completely irritated by the time I reached the third floor without finding an empty
spot.
I whipped Brody’s car into it and cut off the engine. At that exact moment, the entire garage went black. Reality hit me
hard. I had to wade through this
darkness, alone, in order to make it inside where Mallory and Brody were
waiting. Logically, I knew my heart was
not beating as fast as a hummingbird’s, but it felt like it was pounding at the
same rapid rate. Regardless, I refused
to call Brody away from Mallory or make her wait when she needed me.
Ignoring the
blackout and my fear, I got out of the car and slammed the door closed behind me. Sucking in courage like it was air, I felt my
way along the warm hood of the car and over to the cold cement wall in the
middle of the garage. I let the familiar
barrier guide me toward the staircase. No
matter how hard I tried, I could not ignore the uneasiness bubbling its way to
the surface of my nerves. Everything –
the absolute stillness, quiet, and gloom – reminded me too much of the morning I
was attacked... too much of Daryl's plans for me.
I wanted to run
toward the ER, but my inability to see my hand in front of my face prevented the
sprint I craved. I was forced to awkwardly
fumble my way along the divider, stumbling several times. At the end of the
wall, I knew there was a crossover that would lead me to the staircase. Somehow, it looked
darker and more ominous than the garage.
Was that possible?
I, before I knew
what was happening, tripped over a block meant to protect pedestrians from
traffic. Despite my own racket, I heard footsteps
speeding toward me. With a force
that caused my breath to catch, I regretted my every decision that day. On my knees, I prayed for the strength to
make it out alive.
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