Friday, November 09, 2007

Signpost

One marker down. That's the 50k mark, but I don't much feel like writing today.

It could be the completion of the challenge; it could be I'm a bit tired of sitting in front of the screen for hours on end. It's not because I'm stuck. How can you be stuck if you're in the middle of a chase?

Whatever the reason, I have to continue. It's part of what a writer is: getting through the tough parts to finish what you started.

Here's a snippet:

The prick of a blade near her kidney was as sharp as it was unexpected and she froze.

“Into the alley.” A low harsh voice demanded in German. “And don’t scream or I’ll stick you.”

“Okay.” She said and went into an alley between two shops. “What do you want?”

“All your money, for a start.”

Dom turned around. The man was middle-aged, unwashed with filthy streaks across his flat, broad and gaunt face. His eyes darted left and right as if expecting company. His fist clutched the dagger too tightly.

“You ever killed anybody?” She asked.

“Gimme the money. Now!

“Strung out, huh.” She oozed sympathy. “I tell you what. I’ll walk out of here, and you keep your balls intact. How’s that?”

He stepped closer and she coughed at the rank smell coming off his body. “You’ll give me money or I’ll…” He jabbed at her but she didn’t move. The tip of the blade nicked her t-shirt and the skin underneath.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the man who followed her hesitate at the mouth of the alley. He clearly didn’t know what to do.

“Too late, pal, you’ve been spotted.” She dipped her head and the man’s eyes went feral as he saw the other man.

He reached out and grabbed her hair, tugged it back. “Give me your fuckin’ money!”

She kneed him as hard as she dared. He released her hair as he folded over, but his fist struck out and the blade sank into her stomach up to the hilt as he fell.

Dom turned away from the man at the mouth of the alley, blocking his view.

“Damn it.” She said and stared down at the knife. She didn’t need anyone seeing this or the result. It didn’t hurt which told her how bad it truly was. The pain would come later and it would be… ferocious.

Dom pulled out her mobile and dialled Ben’s number.

“Yo!” He answered.

“Ben. Got a little problem.”

“And hello to you too, Dom.” He said cheerfully.

“Ben, get over yourself. I said I had a problem.” She slouched against the wall, her legs weakening.

“What kind?” He asked all cheefulness gone.

“I’m two doors down, in an alley. Bring my long coat would you, please?”

To his credit, he didn’t ask why, simply said he was on his way and hung up.

Dom glanced back to the mouth of the alley, but the man was gone. Her assailant though, still writhed on the filthy concrete, clutching his crown jewels with tears streaking through the dirt on his face, muttering. “Bitch, bitch, bitch.” Over and over.

A few minutes later, Ben came jogging down the alley, her long coat over his arm.

“What’s… up?” He skidded to a stop before the man on the ground. “Uh, oh, what did you do to him?”

“It’s not what I did to him, so much as what he did to me.” Dom replied and turned.

* * *

There you go, first draft only.

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