One - Flight

“Boop. Boop. Boop.”

                The whole world turned two shades bluer as Zoey opened her big bright sapphire eyes. I watched them turn from side to side, then focus, and finally rest on me. Two feet of blonde hair bounced and quivered as she giggled. Her nose shriveled, hiding some of her freckles.

                “Kehehe, Daddy.”

                I poked her nose again, three more times. “Boop. Boop. Boop.”

                Zoey waved her hands wildly above her head, readjusting her suspender strap without meaning to. Her high-pitched, squealing laughter filled the air, bouncing off the walls of the store fronts, and down the street, fading into a whisper. It was the most wonderful sound in the world.

In spite of myself, I laughed too. Only for a second. Then, I said “Shh shh shh, Zoey, we have to be quiet, right?”

I put my index finger on my cheek and wiped a tear away before Zoey could see it. Then, I put it in front of my puckered lips. She mimicked my shushing gesture, still giggling.

We held our poses for a few seconds, smiling at each other. Her blue eyes holding mine, fixing them in place, like two magnets. If she kept looking at me like that, with such eagerness, such love and awe, nothing could ever go wrong.

Finally, with difficulty, I pulled my gaze away. I looked down Columbia Street. It looked just as it had a minute ago: two grey cars sat on the curb; their front windows missing, the STOP sign peeled over underneath the front car. Yellow and orange leaves sat trapped under the windshield wipers; captives, taken to their prisons by the wind. The hat shop on the other side of the street was crushed by the floor above, its merchandise regurgitated onto the road. Up in the other direction of Columbia, the fallen traffic light laid imbedded in the windshield of a green SUV. The sun, just beginning its decent, reflected perfectly off the green light " it almost appeared to be working.

I didn’t expect anything to look different. It was much safer to listen than to look. The steady dripping hadn’t changed. The porcelain bathtub still hung, suspended halfway through the brick wall of its bathroom, dripping unclean water three stories down to an even dirtier puddle. The wind still whistled through the air, as if screaming in pain as it was cut to ribbons by the broken glass of the store front windows.

My heart began pounding. The wind: it carried a new scent. Rust and oil still dominated my nostrils. But there was no mistaking the new scent: blood, sweat, body odor; people.

Zoey’s aqua-blue eyes were still watching me as I turned back to face her, still filled with eager giddiness. I wasn’t ready to see that look fade away, so with all the feigned excitement I could muster, I whispered “Let’s see what’s over here!”

I scooped up her right shoe, put it in my pocket, and lifted her up to sit on my shoulders, all the while straining my ears for the smallest sound. My knees wobbled as I stood up, and my back felt like it was bent at a weird angle. Zoey was still very small, so it only hurt slightly more for me to jog down Columbia away from the scent carried by the screeching wind.

Zoey kept quiet while I took a right onto a street without a name; the sign long gone. My sneakers thumped on the blacktop, making traitorous slapping sounds, echoing off the tall buildings. We passed a small pile of glass shards, seemingly swept into a neat circle of shimmering points, and took a left onto Clifton Ave. My heart was thundering in my throat, draining my mouth of moisture with every powerful beat.

“Don’t let them find us,” I kept repeating silently, “Don’t let them find us…”

My mouth felt cracked and lifeless. My head began swimming, and it no longer felt like I was taking any oxygen with my breath. I stopped under a black and white awning, its store’s door and sign missing.

As slowly as I could, I dropped to one knee and took Zoey off my shoulders. She felt ten times heavier than just a minute ago. Her feet touched the ground and I fell back into a sitting position. The cool air felt like a razorblade as it passed through my lungs. A muffled, scraping sound filled my ears. I looked all around for the source. A fallen street light to my left had been chopped in half from falling on a metal fence. The street caved in to the sewer below to my right, the odor of sewer water wafting through the street.

“Daddy?” I gasped at the sudden noise and realized that the muffled scraping sound was my own breath. Zoey was looking at me, still eagerness in her face, but the giddiness had been replaced by confusion and concern.

I cleared my throat as quietly as I could, but only managed to make the pain worse. My ragged breaths became short and shallow as I tried to mute them. “Daddy just needs to rest for a minute. How many bricks can you count on this wall?” I bobbed my head at the store with the awning and no door.

She kept looking at me, clearly worried. She took a step closer and grabbed my hands, and I realized they were trembling. Her mouth opened, about to say something. I began to panic. “Please, Honey, count the bricks for Daddy,” I breathed. Hesitantly, she turned around, pointing to each brick on the outside of the store, silently counting.

While she wasn’t looking, I closed my eyes. My shoulders drooped, and my head fell back. It was getting worse by the minute. I could feel myself bleeding through my bandages under my shirt. My right knee felt like it had swollen to the size of a basketball. Every injury compounded on the other, making my whole body heave and throb. I was glad I got Zoey to turn around " I didn’t want her to see me like this: deflated and broken.

“Ten…nine…eight…” silently, I counted down. “Seven…six…five…” When I reached one, I would put myself back together, and Zoey and I would turn around and go up the other way on Clifton " we couldn’t go past the cave-in in this direction. “Four…three…two…”

CRRUUUNCHHH

My eyes snapped open. The bright-red brick wall stretched the length of my vision. Zoey stood frozen, her index finger still pointing to a brick; she had gotten four rows up from the ground. She slowly turned her head to face me. Her mouth hung open. Fear swum in her great blue eyes.

CRUNCH

It came from around the corner " the sound of glass squishing under a boot. The pile of glass we had passed was just a dozen feet from the corner that hid us from view. Zoey stood and I sat less than that distance from the same corner.

“Where?” It was a deep, throaty voice, filled with anxiety. Another voice, much calmer, much less primal, followed: “Near.”

Zoey once again mirrored me as I raised my index finger to my lips; her intelligent eyes spoke understanding to me. With all the muscle control I had, and all the concentration I could keep hold of, I lifted myself off the ground, keeping my feet firmly, solidly planted in place, so as to not make any sounds. Maybe it was my ten seconds of reflection, or maybe it was the new surge of adrenalin pumping through me, but my body no longer heaved from the stress.

I lifted Zoey off the ground, which I scanned like a robot, keeping track of every loose stone, every piece of glass, and every inconsistency in height. The ground was a minefield, filled with sounds to be made. One wrong move, one misplaced step, and I would kill us both.

The empty door frame of the sign-less store was just four feet away.

“Gone!” The deep, anxious voice quivered with rage. I heard the sound of a trash can being knocked over, a helpless victim of my hunters’ frustration.

One careful step and I was three feet from the cool, tan tiles inside the store. My right sneaker, scuffed and dirty, lay narrowly between two pieces of glass. A newspaper, crumpled in a loose ball, sat plumped a few inches to the left.

“Not gone,” came the calm voice, “hiding.” It held a tone of patience I might have used while explaining strange concepts to Zoey. It made me immeasurably tenser than the anxious voice.

My right leg took our weight while I carefully lifted my left over the mountain of newspaper. My right leg seized up and spasmed, like I was being electrocuted, and was about to fail. My left heel made contact with the ball of paper. It rolled backwards silently, revealing the headline “THE ANSWER IS HERE; FOREVER STARTS NEXT WEEK”. My left foot touched down, and my right leg ceased its protest. We were two feet from the store.

“Hiding? Where?”

“Somewhere.”

My left leg took our weight this time. My right foot stepped over the half-crushed soda can, and landed next to a broken plastic comb. One more foot.

“Back there? Up here?” There was a long pause. I couldn’t move; my legs were on fire, muscles dissolving from the strain.

“Back there,” the calm voice finally answered.

I let out a breath, muffled by the still howling wind, relieved. Zoey still clung to her shushing gesture, her face strained as she tried to will the world to be quieter. She was getting heavier in my arms again. Just one more step, and I could set her down in the safety of a hiding place.

A terrible, grating sound erupted behind me. The wind, the same wind that had warned me of my approaching doom, had pushed the half-crushed soda can, scraping it along the pavement, murdering the silence in cold blood. “Up here!” The anxious voice trilled.

One more step, quickly, quietly, now. My right leg took our weight again, and knives stabbed through my knee. My left leg crossed over the threshold and over tile. Popping sounds came from my knee, like tiny bubble wrap. My left foot touched down and I quickly pulled my right inside.

I set Zoey down and pulled her to the right, next to the door-less frame, under the glass-less windows. Exposed, helpless, we cowered out of sight, but not out of reach. Our best protection was the danger of being indoors " roofs collapsed on a regular basis, like the hat shop two blocks away.

We waited in silence in the shadow under the window. Light flooded the store, bouncing off of the rows of high, leather chairs mounted on silvery poles. Mirrors lined the walls all the way to the back corners. We were hiding in a barber shop.

Heavy foot falls rounded the corner that hid Zoey and me only seconds ago. Suffocating silence followed, waiting to live or die. For nearly a full minute, the air was empty, naked, silent; and my lungs remained deflated. Finally, a loud, hollow sound filled my lungs with air again; the sound of the soda can kicked against the opposite side of the wall hiding us.

“Can! Just can!” A tall, looming shadow invaded the barber shop; long, wild hair hung down to its shoulders. The anxious man stood less than two feet from us, over the window. Had he leaned forward and looked down, he would see the tops of our heads. But it wasn’t the anxious man that spoke directly above us.

“Still near,” said the calm voice that sent needles down my spine.

“Then hurry!” The needles spread from my spine, covering my entire body. Both voices, calm and anxious, wise and primal, came from the same shadow. We were being pursued by only one person, though this didn’t make me feel much better.

I looked at Zoey and realized she had been tugging on my sleeve. Her face was twisted, her shoulders were hunched forward, and her knees rubbed together. She had to pee. The shadow stood stock still. What was he waiting for? A tiny pleading groan escaped Zoey’s clenched teeth. I scanned the empty barber shop, looking for the bathroom.

“Back there,” the shadow said calmly. I watched in slow motion as the shadow turned to the left and walked out of the light, into oblivion. Zoey’s groans were getting louder. She could hold it for one more minute. I waited, holding her in place for thirty more seconds. The sound of foot falls faded, rounding the corner outside, and following their owner’s shadow into nothingness.

“Five…four…” Five more seconds to assure that we were safe. “Three…two…”

“Daddy!” Zoey’s high pitched scream cut through the air. I had waited too long.

My left leg pushed me up from the ground, my right hung limp, useless, dead weight. Glass scraped the tiled floor loudly as my foot slid, finding my full weight. Stealth wasn’t an option now " the man with two voices would have heard Zoey’s scream.

I grabbed her hand and led her, limping like a wounded deer, deeper into the barber shop. My left leg was beginning to cramp from doing all the work. We found the bathroom, the door hung loosely from its top hinge.

I opened the door, careful not to break the top hinge. I nearly did exactly that when I saw a person waiting for us inside. Dark brown hair covered his ears. His hazel eyes were wide, panicked, surprised. They were my eyes. It was only my reflection in the bathroom mirror.

I let out a painful, grating breath of relief. With great effort and pain, I squatted down to Zoey’s eye level. Her eyes made my leg throb just a little less. I tried to smile. I don’t think I succeeded.

“Zoey, honey, stay in the bathroom when you’re done. Don’t come out until I come to get you.”

“Daddy "“

“Zoey, be a big girl, now,” my head was pounding so furiously, I could barely keep my composure. “Daddy can’t help you this time. Stay inside, and don’t make any noise, OK? Do you understand?” Her long blonde hair bounced up and down when she nodded her head. “That’s my girl.”

I grabbed her around the shoulders and hugged her for the last time. I ran my hand through her hair for the last time, and kissed her on the top of the head for the last time. I released my grip, and, for the last time, I watched her beautiful, perfect, crystal-clear, blue eyes as she backed into the bathroom and closed the door, which remained ajar dangling precariously from the top corner.

A long pair of silver, metal scissors glinted on a desk to my left. I hobbled over and picked them up. They felt smooth and cool, like marble. And then I heard him, panting like a wild dog. I could smell his foul stench, easily overpowering the sewer smell wafting lazily through the naked window frames.

I gripped my scissors in my right hand so my knuckles turned white. My body sang out in protest as I turned around. “Just…a bit…more” was my silent chant. I finished turning around, and there, standing in the doorway, stood a huge, hulking silhouette, his features hidden in shadow.

 The silhouette took one great, booming step inside. Dust particles were thrown off their resting places, into the air, where they hung; silent spectators of the inevitable blood bath. They seemed to absorb the sun’s light, making them look like tiny motes of shadow; freckles in empty space. “There,” he said in his guttural voice.

I slipped my middle and index fingers through their intended holes in the scissors, and held my weapon up, ready to kill.

“Here.”

Author's Note

One of my writing goals for this book is to include as little exposition as possible. I want the reader to get a vast majority of the information they need through dialogue, or through the active thoughts of the narrator. My hope is to accomplish this in an organic fashion that doesn't also leave the reader constantly back-tracking for missed information. Instead, I want the reader to be able to say "Aha! this explains that thing from earlier! And I figured it out by myself." Anytime this happened to me while reading (or even with TV and movies), it made the discovery mean so much more than if I simply had it all told to me in exposition. Being told "this is important" always felt like I was being told what I had to take away from it, which defeats the purpose, in my opinion.

Reviews

[Kianna]

Dear Alex,

There's an overuse of colons in this chapter. For example here, "The wind: it carried a new scent." and here, "I didn’t want her to see me like this: deflated and broken." Also, here, "“Where?” It was a deep, throaty voice, filled with anxiety. Another voice, much calmer, much less primal, followed: “Near.”" Colons are supposed to be used for lists or used for an independent clause followed by a rule. The first example doesn't need a colon. You can replace the colon with a dash. I think that's more appropriate, but a colon could sit there. The colon in the third example needs to be replaced with a comma.

Also, you seem to keep repeating the details of how the little girl looks. In some details, they get mixed up. First she has sapphire eyes, next she has aqua blue eyes. Actually, I liked this description the best, "Fear swum in her great blue eyes." Instead of mentioning the shade of blue her eyes in the very first beginning why not call them innocent because I found she was a breath of fresh air from the serious, hurried tone in this chapter.

I know what you were trying to do here, "I grabbed her around the shoulders and hugged her for the last time. I ran my hand through her hair for the last time, and kissed her on the top of the head for the last time. I released my grip, and, for the last time" but why not just say he did all that then with a simple sentence say. I knew it might be the last time I get to do those things or something like that instead of repeating "last time." It's only my opinion, but I found it annoying. I get it. He feels like it's the last time.

Check back for some minor mistakes. There were " some places where there should've been a semi colon or some kind of punctuation. Also you misspelled adrenalin somewhere.

Besides all that, I liked the pacing of the story. The variation of long and short senses created a good amount of suspense. The suspense carried me past any other mistakes and I found myself wanting to know what happened next. I loved the little girl and I especially loved the dad. I liked how you described him. Well, not broken and defeated, but I liked that I could picture very well how injured he was. I also could picture his love for his daughter. Overall, the idea was great and am very interested to read the next chapter! Good job.

Sincerely,

JazzSoulKeke

God bless

[Alex]

Wow great review, thanks! Good catch with those colons. I'm being redundant with Zoey's description because the protagonist clings to it and kind of uses it to keep himself together. I see your point with using contradicting shades, though, I never realized I was doing that. I'll also admit I used "for the last time" too many times, so I will look into trimming that down, though I do want to keep the same format for that passage. I'm grateful for your criticism, and glad you enjoyed this chapter and the characters!

[Sesame]

Hello JazzSoulKeke,

Besides some praise for the author, I feel I must compliment you as well. Good review, very thorough. It is the way I strive to review myself, but better.

Regards,

Sesame

[Kianna]

Well thank you.

[David R Gonzalez]

Wow! I love this! just from the first chapter you can tell the dire situation the father and daughter are in and how the father attempts to make this reality better for his loved daughter. the voices of the characters really stand out. This is great work which should be published.

[SweetNutmeg]

Well, I have to confess, I am not a parent and don't go goo-goo over kids, so part of this missed the mark with me, but through no fault of your own. Just the way I'm built.

I can't add any drawbacks, awkward spots or stylistic problems that weren't already addressed much more skillfully by others. But I'll tell you what I can do: tell people where the story really worked for me.

I was really hooked after he scooped up her shoe and the pursuit began. Every aching detail of his desperate attempts to be soundless gripped me. You established tension and kept ratcheting it up until I was actually holding my breath. You conveyed his jump from concern to panic wonderfully. You did a very good job at avoiding exposition and shoving things down the reader's throat. (Don't you hate that? We readers want to be trusted to figure things out on our own.) The part that really stood out to me was the description of the scissors. That was excellent, brief and vivid. I look forward to reading more.

[Alex]

Thanks for your review. That's quite understandable - no one thing is made for everyone. I'll consider it a success if you wind up invested in Zoey despite that, but if not, I'm still glad you could enjoy other elements from this. I'm very pleased to know that the tension of this chapter got to you.

[Kelsey Schadt]

I just finished reading McCarthy's The Road, and your writing reminds me alot of it--the only thing is I enjoyed this piece more. There was much more description and the dialogue was more relatable for me. I could sense the father-child bond from the get-go.

At times I do feel like adjectives are overused, for instance "My left leg took our weight this time. My right foot stepped over the half-crushed soda can, and landed next to a broken plastic comb. One more foot." I feel you fall into the adjective, adjective, noun pattern that is so common to writers because we are truly seeing in our minds what we write.

Very interesting!

[Alex]

Wow it's an honor to be compared to an established author like that, thank you!

[ANTO]

"It made me immeasurably tenser than the anxious voice." - I liked this line very much - the best villains always have that controlled, minimal-wastage voice. (Alan Rickman lol)
"the man with two voices would have heard Zoey’s scream." - okay - now I see your philosophy at work - very cool. I like it. (sorry - reviewing this in real time).

"Dark brown hair covered his ears. His hazel eyes were wide, panicked, surprised. They were my eyes." - brilliant

This is very exciting storytelling. Very exciting.

[Shawn]

This book is very interesting and hooked me from the start! However, I'm not sure you accomplished your goal. If it makes you feel better, no story or book I've ever read gives out a majority of info from dialogue. You did a wonderful job with this story, though. I loved the first chapter, and I look forward to reading more.

[Alex]

Thanks, I'm glad you're enjoying it so far. So far, I feel I'm keeping in line with my goal (which was dialogue AND narration brought on by the narrator's active thoughts). It definitely hasn't been easy to keep everything flowing right with that kind of delivery, but I feel it's been very rewarding, making a more suspenseful read with a more personal narrator.

[Shawn]

Well, in that aspect you've accomplished it perfectly. I guess I was looking at it from a very close-minded point of view. It was very good, keep up the good work! I'll continue reading it soon, and look forward to it!

[A Lonely Girl]

Damn, that was intense! The ending was perfect, simply perfect. I love your descriptions! I could really feel how much he loved his daughter, and often times it's hard to portray, but I think you nailed it. I read some of the other reviews, and I make the colon mistake as well. I do not agree with one of the reviews saying that repeating "for the last time" was annoying, I feel like it adds to the story - it makes it more intense. However, if you are to implement this, I feel as though there is a way to make the repetition pack even more of a punch by possibly making "for the last time" a separate, simple sentence after he does all of the actions, if that makes sense. I don't know, just a thought! As always, it's up to you as a writer to judge the merit of suggestions and decide whether or not to use them! Overall, it was a solid start to a story and I will be reading the next chapter, as well as others yet to come. Well done! :)

[Alex]

Thank you, I'm pleased to know that you liked the ending so much! Personally, writing that ending gave me goosebumps haha. That's not a bad idea, with leaving "for the last time" as its own sentence. I will try it out next time I edit this chapter and see how it feels. I hope you enjoy future chapters as much as you enjoyed this one!

[Sesame]

Hello Alex,

A nice goal to pursue and I share your excitement when I discover something myself and do not feel it is pushed in front of my nose. Next to that let me say that this is one of the best pieces of writing I have read on this website until now. You have paid attention to pov, tense,verb and spelling and I am said to say that it is a rarity. Besides the use of colons mentioned by JazzSoulKeke I have not a single suggestion on how to improve your chapter any further. If I had to mention one thing: it would be nice to see the person in the bathroom through the father's eyes in some more detail. To whom is he entrusting the life of his daughter?

I will be sure to read the next chapter. Well done!

Regards,

Sesame

@followsesame on Twitter
www.themagiccave.com

[Alex]

Thank you so much, I'm so glad you enjoyed my writing! There wasn't another person in the bathroom - that was the narrator's reflection in the mirror. This was my way of describing the narrator, since the narration style I'm going for doesn't really let him address it to the reader.

[xansizi]

Wow- you really hooked me in there. Your writing raises a lot of questions and compells the reader to keep readong so that they can get the answers. I'm really looking forward to finding out what's happening; where they're going and how they got in this situation in the first place

[Alex]

Thanks, I'm glad you liked it! Thanks for the review! I just put up Chapter Two - take a look!

[gnarlym]

This was thrilling! You have a great command of language skills, and I am rather picky about writing techniques but this was awesome! Your language was not too simple and not too elaborate. You managed to draw me in from the moment the story started and I can't wait to read more from you! Well done, and I'd say you did an excellent job with the dialogue as well!

[Alex]

Wow, thanks - I'm so glad you liked it!