Happy weekend everyone. I just finished the first draft of the seventh book, A New World: Rampage, yesterday and am engaged in that wonderful world of editing. I’ll hopefully be able to finish that in the next few days and send it off to the real editor. I’ve long ago found out that I suck at editing. At any rate, I’m hoping the finalized version will be out on Amazon toward the end of the month with the other distribution following a couple of weeks after. I thought, however, that I would leave you with this little tease from the new book. Keep in mind that it’s in draft form so forgive any errors.
The snarling face vanishes in a mist of dark spray. Its trajectory is altered and it sails between Henderson and me, landing on the floor with a heavy thud. Robert’s smoking barrel in my periphery tells me he just saved my bacon. However, this has allowed another night runner to follow and dive into the air, descending at a rapid pace directly at Robert. I still haven’t reloaded and he isn’t able to turn quickly enough.
I open up and scream a picture message of “NO!” The night runner’s expression, with its lips peeled back in a snarl revealing a set of broken teeth, changes to one of confusion. This does nothing to arrest its swift dive however. Timing it, I bring the butt of my M-4 up and slam it into the side of its face, feeling the jolt run up my arms and into my shoulder. It spins in mid-air, its body slamming into both of us crosswise high on our chests. The forceful impact knocks both of us off our feet and we land heavily across several other bodies lying on the floor.
The core of the night runner body is across my chest, effectively pinning my arms and me beneath it. Its chest lies across Robert. The night runner begins thrashing and squirming, growling in an attempt to get at him. Its face lies close to Robert but it can’t immediately get to him without shifting positions. That doesn’t prevent it from trying though. I feel the vibrations of a deep growl coming from the night runner. I try to get leverage with my arms but I can only wriggle like the foul-smelling creature on me. Next to me, I feel Robert struggling to do the same.
“Shoot it! Shoot the motherfucker!” I shout, thinking Robert might have his weapon free.
