note: this is an experiment with a young adult novel I wrote. Those young folks who read it, enjoyed it. I hope you do. I plan on adding one chapter a week.
Kent Conwell
brief synopsis:
Pursued by a knife-wielding woodshop teacher while locked on the second floor of the high school, five high school graduates take desperate measures to escape, but solar disturbances skew the time continuum so that when they run into various classrooms, they find themselves in different centuries, all hostile.
Horror on Graduation Night
Prologue
A surge of exhilaration rushed through the small man’s veins when he clamped his rough hand over Sarah Lawson’s mouth and pinched her nostrils between his thumb and forefinger, smothering the scream on her lips.
The twelve-year-old girl scratched and kicked, knocking over an empty orange crate. He jerked her into the car.
Across the parking lot, a Chevrolet Suburban with a Point Sequin Junior High decal on the door waited in the drive-thru lane of Dairy Queen. Inside the vehicle, members of the junior high debate club laughed and giggled.
At the sharp rattle of the orange crate, several of the young students glanced around.
With a curse, the small man drew back into the car, clutching the struggling girl to his body, at the same time pleased with his foresight in removing the interior light bulb. Still, despite the car being parked in the dark shadows of the alley, which hid it from their sight, he trembled with fear that the students in the suburban recognized him.
His eyes narrowed. "Nosy little brats," he muttered. Anger boiled in his blood.
Infuriated that the students were staring in his direction, he tightened his grip on the flailing girl's mouth and nostrils, shutting off her breathing. Her struggles lessened as she gasped for breath. She beat weakly on his arms, but he ignored the blows, instead focusing his attention on the students in the suburban.
A few moments later, the girl went limp. Gently, almost fatherly, he lay her on the seat beside him
1 comment:
I love this book, Kent. Chaney and I still talk about it. :)
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