Snippet of the Day
Oct. 10th, 2010 12:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
valarltdFrom "Show your faces" collected in HOWL AT THE MISTLETOE.
Available in print or ebook from The Literary Underworld
I picked up the secondary lantern that had charged most of the day by the tomato plants. That's when I saw him. Brother Michael was lurking between the zucchini and the tomato, his black clothes blending with the night, the filthy remains of his Lasallian collar in tatters at his throat. He screamed as I raised the lantern, yelling gibberish at me.
I ran for the elevator. He caught the door. I hammered at his fingers with the heavy base of the lantern and he let go when one broke. I slammed the door shut and worked the manual winch we'd installed.
I fled to the stacks, leaving the lantern by the typewriter. I didn't really need it to see. There was plenty of moonlight, and the exit signs still gleamed from their sealed battery packs.
I heard him come down the stairwell. He levered the heavy fire door open and started through the stacks. He found my cart and laughed, an insane sound.
“Cataloging. She was cataloging even now.”
His words were finally sounding sensible. That meant he was very dangerous now. It's always worse when they can think. I stayed still in the study carrel, feeling lead in my chest and in my hands.
I looked down and realized I had hold of the damned Tertullian. I must have picked it up when I set the lantern down.
I held my breath when Brother Michael found the carrel.
Available in print or ebook from The Literary Underworld
I picked up the secondary lantern that had charged most of the day by the tomato plants. That's when I saw him. Brother Michael was lurking between the zucchini and the tomato, his black clothes blending with the night, the filthy remains of his Lasallian collar in tatters at his throat. He screamed as I raised the lantern, yelling gibberish at me.
I ran for the elevator. He caught the door. I hammered at his fingers with the heavy base of the lantern and he let go when one broke. I slammed the door shut and worked the manual winch we'd installed.
I fled to the stacks, leaving the lantern by the typewriter. I didn't really need it to see. There was plenty of moonlight, and the exit signs still gleamed from their sealed battery packs.
I heard him come down the stairwell. He levered the heavy fire door open and started through the stacks. He found my cart and laughed, an insane sound.
“Cataloging. She was cataloging even now.”
His words were finally sounding sensible. That meant he was very dangerous now. It's always worse when they can think. I stayed still in the study carrel, feeling lead in my chest and in my hands.
I looked down and realized I had hold of the damned Tertullian. I must have picked it up when I set the lantern down.
I held my breath when Brother Michael found the carrel.
