Lethean Shroud: A First Draft Morsel

Rayanna crushed the gas pedal. The thuds of huge paws struck the trunk and their claws screamed against the cruiser’s paint. After a quarter mile, the snarls and roaring barks faded into the distance behind them. Drifts of fog swept past the windows like phantoms as the squad car barreled through the blind of night.

“Hey,” Officer Bowery croaked from the backseat.

White-knuckled grip frozen to  the wheel, she flicked a glance at the rear-view mirror.

Above his drooping eyes, lines etched his forehead as he grimaced and leaned forward. “Slow down.”

Her joints and muscles locked, even her jaw. Nostrils flaring as she sucked in shallow breaths, her lips barely moved when she spoke. “Can’t.”

He cleared his throat. “They’re gone. Miles back. You’ve got to ease up.”

Mist-veiled darkness filled the side mirrors. She forced herself the swallow the catch in her throat, but shook her head.

“You’ve got to let up on the gas so we don’t wreck. We’re approaching town now.”

She inhaled, prying her foot upward. Her once-frozen limbs broke into trembling.

His voice adopted a deep, velvety tone. “It’s okay, Ann.”

Rayanna darted a look at his grime-streaked reflection.

So he is gonna call me that. Guess lethean beats amnesia-girl.

“H-how much farther is your city?”

With a soft chuckle, he said, “That’s one clue, then.”

“What?”

“None of the townships in over a hundred square miles of here would qualify as a city. So, now we know at least one thing about you.” He leaned back. “You’re not from around here.”

“Where exactly are we going, then?”

*** TO BE CONTINUED ***