Thought I'd share an excerpt from the second book of my Scifi/Fantasy series Spatiality:
A cold wind began to blow across the open landscape and Hannah
pulled herself deeply into her tattered cloak. She had lost herself in her thoughts, despair hung heavily
over her. She didn’t realize her danger until it was nearly too late. Out across the rocky field a small
group of Gol-Het scouts and a handful of native men gathered. She saw them too
late as one motioned to the others, pointing in her direction.
Hannah turned and looked about desperately for a place to hide
herself or for somewhere to run.
At once they ran towards her and began to fire. She saw no alternative but to climb up
into the rocks on her right. She
fired back, the precise weapon finding its mark and a mercenary fell to the
ground. The Gol-Het scouts
immediately dropped to the ground, taking tactical positions, the native men
were not as deft and she was able to kill another. The wound in her back nearly
caused her to cry out as she crawled up the steep slope, firing back as she
climbed. A blast struck near her,
sending up a shower of debris. Hannah
scrambled up to the top, pulling herself over the ledge as another blast nearly
found its mark. She fired again
and again, trying to keep the Gol-Het from advancing. The mercenaries neared the bottom of the rocky ledge she now
defended. She knew there was
little hope in keeping them at bay.
They would no doubt overrun her, particularly when the charge gave out
on her weapon. She fired
nonetheless, killing another and another, but still they came.
And now the Gol-Het moved forward, carefully, crouched low to
the ground. She could do nothing as several broke off and began to head north,
clearly looking for a way to reach her position from above.
She was trapped.
She fired again and struck another mercenary. They soon gave up
trying to climb up to her and moved out of range to let the Gol-Het deal with
her. She leaned up and fired, hitting a Gol-Het scout this time. A blast landed
near her and she realized instantly that it had come from the north. The
Gol-Het were almost upon her!
She braced herself
for their arrival, crouching low under a rock, but a bolt of energy struck her,
sending a searing shock through her leg. She nearly bit through her tongue to
keep from crying out; she couldn’t let them know she had been hit. She looked down at the black wound burned
into her leg, almost unable to associate the pain and the wound with her own
body.
She could see them coming over the narrow ridge, carefully
edging their way down the rock towards her. She quickly fired and the nearest one fell with a cry into
the rocks below. She fired desperately
again and again. She was fighting on two fronts and her chances for surviving
were diminishing by the second. And then they dropped to nil as she pressed the
firing pad, and nothing happened.
The charge was empty.
She felt fear and despair overtake her—she was finished. It had
all been for nothing. Another blast slammed into the ground nearby, then
another. The third found its target, striking her shoulder, knocking her back
against the rock. This time she cried out despite herself and she dropped the
weapon. She was now utterly
defenseless, and they knew it. As
the Gol-Het approached, she could almost see the predatory grins, their weapons
prepared for the kill.
