Today’s #1lineWed theme over on Twitter is “Earth. Or “ground.” They sort of mean the same thing. 😆 KOD has been on a roll with themes lately. They’ve had Earth, Wind, and Fire, and Water (or ground, air, heat, and wet). I sort of combined all the elements in this snippet from DOUBLE TROUBLE. FYI, I’m almost finished with it. And yes, I’ve written more words than I planned. With luck, I’m done and editing as y’all are reading this. Without luck, I’m still working on the last two chapters. Anyway, this is a follow-on to last weeks snippet–coming just after. You can go HERE and read it, if you missed last Wednesday’s Words. And now, our story continues…
“Dammit, Duke! Take care of those damn shooters!” Dom yelled into the microphone attached to the headset he now wore.
The pistol reappeared after he buckled into the harness. He grabbed her, pulling her close. “Arms around my neck, Peni. Legs around my waist. We’re going up. Fast.”
She screamed in Dom’s ear as they whooshed skyward, the earth dropping away beneath her feet as air whistled in her ears. Fire flickered in her peripheral vision. She saw shadows dancing around a bonfire. Something whined past her cheek and she huddled closer to Dom as he grunted. In what seemed like an hour but was only seconds, they were hoisted aboard the helicopter. Peni barely had time to catch a breath before the chopper tilted and whizzed away over the ocean, the whitecaps below rolling beneath the intermittent light of the moon. She scrambled toward the stranger holding her babies, lost her balance, and was steadied by strong hands around her waist. A different man guided her onto a bench seat and buckled her into a safety harness.
Looking up, she realized Dom was arguing with the man named Brady. Evidently Dom won the argument because he climbed over a partition and settled into the co-pilot’s seat, switched his headset to headphones, and grabbed the stick. He’d told her he was a pilot. She shouldn’t have been surprised that he would want to be in charge. The other pilot, a handsome black man, looked angry, then reached through the opening and snatched something that looked like gauze pads from Brady’s outstretched hand.
Moments later, Brady settled beside the man holding her children, muttering something she couldn’t hear. “What are you saying?” She yelled above the noise filling the helicopter. “My babies? Are my babies safe?”
So, what about y’all? Do your books have their feet on the ground? Have any earthy words to share?