Chapter 1
Rona was prepared for an attack. Her trusty switchblade was in her right boot, ready to be pulled out fast. Pepper spray was in her front pocket. Although she had no qualms to hurt someone, she hoped that the worst she would have to deal with was a petty thief who didn’t deserve a deep knife wound. That’s why she learned karate—so she wouldn’t accidentally kill someone who didn’t need to die.
Living in the infamous community of Winterchord either made or broke you. Rona had seen too many people break, so she’d done her best to be shaped into an impenetrable figure by the harsh society. It was the reason for her cautiousness, day or night. However, she had never struggled as much as she would today to fend off attackers.
She heard a car behind her and tensed. She tried to stay on the very edge of the path but seem casual so she wouldn’t draw attention. Usually late-night car drives were from drunk revelers, but you never knew in Winterchord.
“Miss! You on the road!” She heard from the car. She kept walking, a hand slipping to her front pocket. The canister of pepper spray reassured her. Slowly she began veering her path off the road and into the grass.
“Hey! Miss!” The voice was louder. The car started veering, too.
Rona broke into a sprint and began crashing through the underbrush on the side of the road.
Shouts ensued behind her as the car slowed to a stop. She heard doors open and feet thud against asphalt. The sound quickly turned into rustling plants as the pursuers followed her path.
She had always thought that she was fast—she had to be. But the people behind her were, surprisingly, gaining. Knowing that she could never keep up this pace for the two miles it took to reach home, she rolled on the ground to avoid stopping too fast and came back up on her feet with the spray can in her hand.
If this was a movie, Rona would have said, “Freeze! I’m armed.” But this was real life, and she couldn’t give the men a moment to spare. She immediately sprayed in a wide semicircle in the pursuers’ direction and, treading as lightly as possible, made her way to the other side of the road and laid down silently in the tall grass, willing her racing heart to calm down.
The men—their voices gave away their gender—groaned.
“Kookie, see what happens when you underestimate someone?” A man groaned in a deep, grainy voice. He only received a groan in response.
“Why did she have to pepper spray us? We were trying to help!” A higher voice finally whined. The other man cursed.
“Kookie! We need to move, now! There’s a reason we’re here and a reason as to why we chased her. But she’s painted a target on herself, and we’re already under aim by them. So let her deal with it. WE need to go.” They stumbled back to their car and started up the engine. The engine revved louder and louder until the car exploded into action and raced away.
