"Are you gonna call me Mr. Lizard from now?"
"Of course."
[Book One of The Adelaide Duncan Series]
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ADELAIDE
"Faster!" a woman shouted. It was so dark, that I couldn't see where I was, who the voice belonged too. I was running on a treadmill, breathing hard. Sweat tingled my neck and fell from my forehead to my eyes.
"Faster." I increased my speed. My legs were paining. It hurt. I was running for a long time.
"Faster!" the woman yelled and I flinched. I ran like I was running for my life now. My breathing was frantic. I wasn't getting any air. "Faster!" the woman kept on yelling like a broken record. It felt like my limbs were on fire. I stumbled for a bit.
"Don't stop! Keep running!" I couldn't. I was already at my maximum speed. I was tired. If I was crying, I didn't know.
"I-I can't. I can't." I gasped out.
The woman's voice tsked. "Oh, Adelaide, you should have known better than all people, not to say 'no'."
Suddenly a flash of piercing pain rang through my abdomen.
Gasping for air, I wake up and press my hand to my abdomen. There is no pain. I lift my shirt up and see a faint scar running across my abdomen. The same place where I was hit in my dream.... memory. Someone is yelling. Was it me? My head hurt and throbbed, making every sound to me faint.
Knowing well that I can't sleep any longer, I crawl out of the bed and fish out my bow and the quiver, tiptoeing towards the Deadheads. The Sun is about to rise and the sky is painted soft blue and orange. The Glade is calmingly silent and soft breeze caress my tangled locks. Nobody is up yet and I know that I have a couple of hours before the Runners and Alby and Newt wakes up. I reach to the deeper parts of the Deadheads and choose a tree. Picking up a stone, I scratch a petty looking target onto the trunk and walk away.
I fish out an arrow and balance it against the string. I take a deep breath and pull it back until the end of the arrow touches my cheek. Shifting it slightly to aim the target, I let go of the arrow.
After a sharp thud, I relax from my stiff position, looking at the arrow. I scowl. It is nowhere near the target. I again shoot another arrow. It is even further away from the previous one. I shoot another arrow. This time, it is much closer to the target. Another shot. It grazes the target. Another shot.
Bulls eye
I smile, satisfied with myself. I pull out the lodged arrows from the trunk and begin again.
