©Copyright 2016, Adam Bolander
Reya ran, her footsteps echoing loudly in the narrow alleyway. The only light came from the streetlamps by the road, which made it hard to see. The smell of rotting, sunbaked garbage was heavy in the air, threatening to make her sick, and she forced herself to hold her breath until she was clear of it.
Running while holding my breath, she thought. Only one of the many useful skills I’ve picked up.
It had rained a couple hours ago, and the ground was still wet, so she wasn’t worried about leaving footprints. If she were lucky, the slick ground would be enough to throw them off her trail— because they were right behind her!
She could hear them chasing her. Their footfalls were even louder than hers, and there were several of them. How many? She had counted three when they’d first spotted her, but there were probably even more now. There were always more.