S T A V E
LVI
Obedience, mercilessly clear, crossed the cool, dark yard. The temperature had dropped and with it, a rapid chill, the like of a paranormal presence. Should the winds shriek and the dogs howl? But it's still . . . a Single Moment. There – the house, the kitchen and the back door. Her room just up the stairs. A mist over the lawn? Maybe it's a dream and she'll wake. No – she's the presence – like the pubescent girl riling up the Spectres. Heaping them. Commanding them.
I'm here.
Elliot arose from a shadow, Monstrous, Savage, moonglow in his eyes. Deadlight.
They faced off.
"God," Binah's shudder behind her.
Elliot did not hear, for there Obedience stood without artifice or pretence, her features plain. His tongue slipped over his lip, held as much by her as she by him. Blood on her chin, and he touched his waistcoat pocket wherein the dead girl's ring and Libby's hair. Creatures of Fire.
"Tommy." Her voice profane, like the cat to his back.
He grabbed her. She did not struggle.
"Tommy," she said again and leaned into him.
Binah lunged like a mother bear, clawing. He kicked her in the belly and as she doubled over, he yanked her by the hair.
"No, Tommy." A hand on his cheek to stay him. "Let her go." And to Binah in a heap she nodded – Go. Binah ran best she could while Obedience clasped Elliot's hand.
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TEARS OF THE FOOT GUARDS
Historical FictionA lively, yet dark and polemic retelling of the American Revolution through the unapologetic eyes of women and soldiers in the British Army, a two-time finalist in the Faulkner/Wisdom Literary Contest for the Novel and Novel-In-Progress categories...
