Today I'm going to start in the most logical place - the beginning.
So without further ado, the very opening scene (a scene first drafted about 9 years ago!) of Chasing Freedom.
Get ready to meet Chase Finn!
He was going to
die. His heart knew it, hammering away as though trying to make every last beat
count. He crouched, panting for breath, fingers clutching the stitch in his side.
Coppery, thick blood trickled into his mouth from a gash on his lip, and he
shivered uncontrollably in the cold, foggy night. He was trapped. Instinct
screamed at him to fight, but logic overruled it. Fight and he would die. Hide
and he might just survive the night. The hunt was over, but Chase Finn wasn’t
ready to die just yet.
Rain dripped
down the back of his collar from a broken drainpipe and he shivered more
violently. He hadn’t slept in two days and he couldn’t remember the last time
he’d eaten. There hadn’t been time. All he could do was run. Run, hide, and
pray they never found him.
He wedged
himself further down between the dustbin and the wall. The space was too small for
his tall frame; his shoulders scraped against the brickwork and his right calf
muscle began to cramp. He tried to ignore it and squinted through the rain.
He scanned his
surroundings, looking for an escape route he knew didn’t exist. There wasn’t
much to see; illumination from the streetlight reached less than a foot into
the alleyway. The rest remained in darkness. Chase could only just make out the
stack of crates a little further down, and rubbish spilt across the ground from
an overturned dustbin.
Sucking in a
breath the cool air stung his throat and lungs. For a moment he felt calmer - until
he heard the sound of slow, steady footsteps approaching the alley.
“He came down here.”
Chase risked a
glance from behind the bin. Two men stood silhouetted against the orange glow
of the streetlight. One kept watch out towards the cars by the kerb; the other
peered into the alleyway.
“Maybe he did,
maybe he didn’t, but I’m not going down there to look. They’re vicious when
they’re cornered.” The smaller of the two men looked away from the street and
then back again, shifting uncomfortably.
Chase watched
them, his heart in his mouth. Keep going,
you bastards.
“You wanna get
paid?” The taller man edged into the alley and Chase tensed. “We got a bounty.
We don’t bring him in, we get no money.” He took another two steps, but didn’t seem
to want to go further without backup.
The smaller man
clenched his fists at his sides then reached into his jacket. Light glinted on
the metal of a gun as he followed his companion into the alley. They edged
forward, watching every shadow for movement.
Taking a deep
breath, Chase tried to stop the wild beating of his heart, irrationally afraid
it would give him away. There was nowhere left to run. Logic be damned, fighting
was the only choice he had.
He waited, a low
growl reverberating in his throat, until they were only a few feet away before
springing. Chase tackled the larger man full in the chest, sending him reeling
backwards into the brick wall. They both fell, but Chase rolled onto his knees
and scrambled upright. The man was still struggling to his feet as Chase
whirled around – only to find himself face-to-face with the barrel of a gun. Before
he could react the butt of the weapon smashed into his temple. Lights exploded
behind his eyes and he staggered backwards.
“Easy now, mate,”
the smaller man murmured as Chase regained his footing and lunged back towards
him. “I don’t want to hurt you. I get more if I take you in unharmed.”
Chase took
another step forward and snarled.
Sighing, the man
raised his weapon again; this time pointed at Chase’s chest, and pulled the
trigger.
To find out what happens next I guess you'll have to read the book!
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