Okay, now that I’m rolling along with favorite books on Monday, Songs and Videos on Friday, it’s time to add a new feature: Words on Wednesday!
For today, I’m including a snippet/excerpt of mine from a work in progress which I’ve been referring to as Camille and the Zombie (this is unlikely to be it’s final name!). Other weeks I may have quotes from favorite authors, excerpts from other writers and anything else which strikes my fancy and I think fits the theme.
Unlike my post New Story, Somewhat Different this is much more of the type of story I typically write.
Hope you enjoy it!
He wanted to know she was?! What the hell was he? And how the heck had he learned to use magic with such control? Frank had not just used magic but seemed comfortable and knowledgeable about uses and spells she had no clue about. All kinds of worries and questions and wonderment hit her. Camille refrained from any response, knowing there wasn’t any sensible answer she could give.
“What in tarnation is going on?” Andrew’s voice cut the tense silence. Tarnation? Clearly he was trying to convince the group he was a good old boy. Accompanied, no, restrained by, a large, lethal looking man in black, he came around the corner of the warehouse. For some reason they hadn’t bothered to take away his gun. Given his fury, she was glad he couldn’t aim the carbine in his hand at her. “Camille, you’d better have a good explanation!”
Andrew had dressed the part with his stomach hanging out over torn sweats and his boots only half laced. He wretched his shoulder out of the man’s grip – something the escort clearly allowed to happen – and looked around, stopping at the abandoned truck. The back door had swung open and several caskets were cantilevered out, precariously hanging over the edge. Andrew’s arm holding the rifle jerked and his face turned red. His rheumy blue eyes were fixed on her.
Camille wondered why the hell they hadn’t disarmed him when they had him. He stalked over to her, his body shaking in fury. The escort followed but did nothing. A quick glance and she was slightly reassured to see the safety was still on his gun. But really, these guys!
“Holy mother of Elvis, that’s my goods that are being ruined! Camille you – you – you’re fired!” Andrew’s voice roared like an auctioneer’s at ‘fired’. “And I don’t know who the pretty boy is, but you can be sure as there’s mud in the Mississippi I’m going to be suing both your sweet asses for damages.”
With the last pronouncement he shook his empty fist in Camille’s face. Okay, he had a right to be pissed, but this was going too far. Camille drew back her arm to slap his hand away only to find Frank stepping in the slim space between them forcing them both back up a step. Okay, not a problem, probably a good thing she didn’t hit him given there was still a slight chance she’d have a job at the end of all this, no matter what Andrew had said. Camille peered around Frank’s shoulder.
Andrew was muttering and using his free hand to pat the many pockets of his fishing vest, which he’d thrown on over the quilted flannel shirt he wore through out the winter. Likely looking for his cell phone.
“Sir,” Frank said. Andrew halted his movements and looked at him with a wary eye. “We need you to come down to the station to make a statement.”
“What? I didn’t do anything wrong. No sirree. I’m an innocent party here. Nothing to do with those Zombies taking them caskets.” Andrew, the idiot, was gesticulating wildly with the rifle with one hand and still trying to locate his phone with the other.
Frank grabbed the stock of the gun and yanked it out of Andrew’s hands. Camille found the gun thrust into her hands as Frank twisted Andrew’s arm up behind him. Okay, Frank might not have the training she’d had, but his move was as smooth and as quick as she’d ever seen. She removed the ammo clip and put it in her pocket, since these guys seemed likely to hand the damn thing back to Andrew.
“That’s an interesting statement. Care to repeat it?” Frank asked.
“I didn’t have nothing to do – oh hell.” Andrew clammed up after that. Frank propelled him back to the warehouse the escort following. There he deliberately turned his back to exclude her from the conversation. He even went so far as to walk them around the corner of the building, out of sight.
Camille didn’t know if she was more annoyed or relieved. Either way she took advantage of the opportunity and ran back to the far steps. She set down the gun and, with a jump, she grabbed the top of the fence and quickly clambered over.