A long run

A long run

A Story by Thomas Coll

This is a few pages of the first chapter of my book.


Chapter one

A long run

        Night had fallen only a few minutes past, a few miles north of the Arizona/Mexico border. The night Air was cooling rapidly in the Arizona desert. A blanket of stillness lay over the landscape, nothing moved, not even a breath of wind, it was as if life itself had been torn away from the earth. Off to the west the early night sky was saturated with the bountiful colors of night’s pallet….. The hues of blues and purples and only the deepest of reds. On any other night Damien would have marveled in its beauty.

       The only sign of life, in a land wrought with peril, was this lone figure kneeling at the base of a Joshua tree. The man was gasping for breath, and had enough blood pooling around him that would send all but the heartiest of men to a certain grave. Years of physical and mental training had kicked his instincts into fluidity miles back. His only thoughts now were to stop the bleeding before it was too late.

He had come over a hill about a mile back and had seen lights in the distance. Knowing the lights that he had seen earlier where just a little further down the road, and that his pursuer, what ever it might be, was still here stalking him like a freak from a Tarantino movie. He summoned all the strength he had left and clawed his way back to his feet.

       The pain shot through his raggedly torn left arm almost knocking him back to his knees. In all the years that he had spent serving his country he had never been hurt this badly. The gashes in his arm turning septic so fast, and hurting so bad, turned his thoughts to what it was that had attacked him. The thing was at least seven feet tall, he thought to himself. It had a head like a dog and ran half like a man and half like a beast. You have seen the movies, and read the books Damien thought, figure it out for your self. He pushed the images from his mind for the time being and went back to his injured arm. The tourniquet and field dressing were doing their jobs, to an extent. He had lost a lot of blood and his wounds were already showing signs of infection. If he didn’t get help soon he knew that he would not make it to the morning. He sat there a few seconds longer, putting the pain in a box in the back of his mind. After he had finished, he started off down the road.

The minutes seemed like hours looking back over his shoulder every few seconds his head snapping back and forth with fear in his eyes. To the south he could see clouds forming in the distance, and that brought hope to his mind. Rain in the desert was powerful. A Dust storm followed by a monsoon. If he could just make it to the lights ahead he might have a chance of making it out of this mess alive. But the clouds were a ways off, maybe an hour before the dust storm arrived, and an hour after that for the rain. Soon the night would be complete and there would be no light to judge time. He synced his watch to his thoughts and picked up his pace as much as he could.

        Only fifteen minutes later he started to make out the shapes of two buildings in the distant light. Yet again hope was in his mind. He steadied his pace and bit his lip to cope with the pain in his arm. The hair on his neck stood up as shivers ran down his spine when the howl came from behind him. He stumbled as he tried to look behind him and run at the same time. Nothing; there was only noises from a complete and utter darkness.

         He heard voices coming from the light up ahead. Hope again pervaded his emotions: yes, there they are again. “Help” he gasped, but his mouth was dry from the desert air. He licked his lips and tried again to no avail. Light, yes his butane lighter that he carried with him always. Show them lights, he thought. He reached in his pocket and pulled out the lighter. Another howl pierced that night air. He could hear foot steps behind him now. He kept trudging on. Only another hundred yards and he would be in the light. He struck his butane lighter and tried to scream help but only a whisper came from his lips. Again the foot steps - don’t look back- just move forward he thought frantically. Don’t look back, don’t look back was all he could think. The foot steps were getting faster and louder. “Oh god” he moaned, as he moved towards the voices and lights, just twenty yards in front of him.

           The steps were so close, but now they were not what were frightening him. He could hear the ragged breathing and wolf like snarls and smell its musky stench. Is this the end? He thought. NO!!! I can not quit. He sucked up the pain and yelled, as he dove head first into what should have been a roll. But a swiping claw clipped his right leg and sent his forward roll into a twisting headlong dive into the dirt. Luck was with him as he landed on his rights side cushioning his torn left. And the voices were getting louder, yes they were coming closer. “Help” he said “help me please” then another loud noise followed by a howl of pain. Hope was there again they were coming to his rescue. Someone had shot a gun. He rolled onto his back to face his pursuer. But all he saw was a large shadowy figure darting off into the desert night.

© 2010 Thomas Coll

Author's Note

Thomas Coll
I just put a few pages of chapter 1 from my book up to see what everyone thinks.

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Shelved in 2 Libraries
Added on September 26, 2010
Last Updated on September 26, 2010
Tags: Vampire, werewolf


Thomas Coll
Thomas Coll

Cocoa Beach, FL

I love the outdoors, be it at the beach or on a mountain trail. I started writing not to long ago. My first work is a book about an assassin that becomes a vampire. Hopefuly soon i will upload the fir.. more..

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