Warrant for Damnation

Reads: 300  | Likes: 1  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 1

More Details
Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Handcuffed in Horror

Chapter 3 (v.1) - No Skin Nina

Submitted: August 14, 2019

Reads: 7

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 14, 2019

A A A

A A A

This time my speedy run sputters to a stop as if I’m running out of gas. Immediately, I notice Nina’s missing from my arms.

What the hell?

My head whips around, scanning the surrounding dry grass and rocky terrain. When I spot her twenty yards in the distance, at the side of the dirt road, I take off, shouting, “Nina!”

Upon approach, she’s immobile and unresponsive, a bloody streak revealing the extent of her wound.

Not only did I drop her, I dragged her. I hurt her bad.

Please be okay, please be okay.

My hands tremble as I yank my t-shirt over my head and wrap it around flesh scraped clear to the bone from hip to knee. But it’s a worthless bandage.

What now?

While stroking her arm, my brain searches for a way to help her without jeopardizing additional body parts.

Pete.

I fumble in my pocket for the flip phone, then find the last number in the call history. After one ring, he answers, “I know where you are. I’m nearly there.”

“How?”

“Was already on my way to the warehouse when the GPS tracker on the cell showed your movement.” He blows out a loud sigh. “Did you think I’d leave you high and dry with Margery?”

Reflecting on the trouble I’ve caused over the past twenty-four hours, how could I blame him if he did?

Off to the east, Pete’s Hummer comes into view surrounded by a cloud of dust. But within seconds, the racing motor’s drowned out by a squawking to the west. A familiar flock of crows, the size of eagles, closes in on us. A few days ago, they protected me from God’s army. I doubt it’s their intent today.

Uncertain who will reach us first, I scoop up Nina’s limp body, careful not to slip on the pool of blood. I hurry toward the Hummer, paranoid I might shift into hyper-speed and drag her again.

A few yards short of the vehicle, the black birds win the race, swooping in, wings whipping across my shoulders. Claws tear. Beaks peck. I swear they’re gulping down chunks of my flesh. All I can do is bare the pain and keep the pace while Pete plows through the murder of crows and brakes to meet us.

“Hurry!” He yells through the cracked window. “Get the girl inside!”

No shit!

I struggle to open the back door and place Nina onto the seat, but a wing knocks me off my feet.

“Get in!” Pete says.

“I’m trying,” I shout with arms flailing to fight them off, but there are just too many of them. I’m about to take shelter beneath the vehicle when my hands glow and sting. Sparks shoot from my palms, and a bird bursts into a puff of smoke. Feathers fly everywhere and stick to blood-covered surfaces. The others squawk and ascend and hover.

“Whoa.” I chuckle. There’s a bent cigarette wedged in my palm.

Found your cigs, Margery.

I pick it out and throw it at a crow in a nosedive, taking advantage of my pause. The bird freezes mid flight, his eyes bulging from their sockets before he explodes like his brother.

Wow.

My palms pointed skyward seem to hold them at bay long enough for me to jump into the back seat.

“Hang on,” Pete says while flipping a U-turn.

The crows follow. They strike, one after another, rocking the vehicle.

“What,” I say, “no protection spell on the Hummer?”

“Yes, but I suspect a mix of your active contract with Satan along with your warrant for damnation is just too powerful,” he says. “I can’t hold the vehicle on the road. They’re trying to lift us off the ground.”

“Open the sunroof,” I say while leaning forward.

“Are you nuts? Those birds will do anything to collect your bounty.”

“Trust me. I can get them off us,” I say, although I gag at the thought of them pecking me apart like roadkill and delivering me to Hell in a shower of white diarrhea.

“All right,” he says, appearing unconvinced when he pushes a button on the dash.

The sunroof slides open, and I stick my hands through the slot, quick to aim my glowing palms skyward. As I twist through the window, cigarettes discharge with a sting that intensifies with each shot. After slaying a quarter of the flock, they circle west, out of sight.

I collapse to my seat feeling tarred and feathered.

“How did you get rid of the birds?” Pete asks. “What were those sparks?”

“Cigarettes,” I say while lifting my shirt to check Nina’s congealing wound. “Somehow, I absorbed Margery’s cursed cigarettes.”

“You what?”

“I’ll show you later.” With Nina’s head now resting on my lap, I wrap a blanket around her motionless body. “I’m worried about Nina. She’s still unresponsive. Will she be okay?”

“She’s a courier. As long as her heads attached, she’s alive.” He peers over his shoulder. “Check her breathing. Is she getting enough oxygen?”

I lower my face to her nose, but feel no breath on my cheek. Nor is her chest rising and falling. “No.”

“Give her mouth-to-mouth,” he’s quick to say. “If she goes too long without oxygen, she’ll go insane, and there’s no curing crazy in a courier except to take off her head.”

Nina’s gone through enough. If she loses her mind too…

While replacing her breath, I think how this is not the way I wanted our lips to meet again.

“Candy,” Pete says into his phone. “We’re ten minutes out. Nina’s with us and she’s hurt pretty bad. Tell Ulla and Inez to prepare for skin regeneration, and worst case, a decapitation.”


Check out Winnie Jean Howard's Book


Call for Obstruction

If you're enjoying Warrant for Damnation, get caught up on Barry's antics in Call for Obstruction. Find out how Margery was able to get him to sign a contract to serve Satan, and how she was able to set him up as the one who closed the Gates of Hell. Call

© Copyright 2019 Winnie Jean Howard. All rights reserved.

Chapters

Add Your Comments: