Tuesday, March 26, 2013

My Name is Tuesday, and I'm a TEASE

Long time, no tease, huh?  Well, wait no longer peeps.  I give you a tease from my 69 millionth attempt at my YA mystery HATE CRIME.  I may never get past chapter seven of this if my characters keep wandering out into left field and starting a whole new storyline on me, but that's just how we roll :)

Sweat poured down my forehead and dripped into my eyes.  Damn but it was hot out today.  I swiped the back of my hand across my face, my eyes darting from the left to the right and then back to the left again. 
A slight movement caught my attention.  I squinted in that direction.  The shrubs rustled a bit more, and Walt’s face materialized within the greenery.  My lips twitched as I touched the small walkie at the base of my throat. 
“Everyone in position?” I whispered.
The bud stuffed in my right ear crackled to life as everyone chimed in.
“Yup.”  Walt.  For as much of a talker as he usually is, when on a mission, Walt was king of the mutes.
“All set on this end, boss,” Jeff answered.  “Lauren says she’s gotta pee, though.”
“Tell her to hold it,” Kevin snapped.  “Bathroom breaks are for girls.  Ow!”
I chuckled under my breath at his yelp.  No doubt Lila took exception to his comment and belted him.  Li’s punches—even the playful ones—could be more brutal than a trained assassin’s.  I waited another moment for the final member of our team to chime in.
And waited.
“Lex?” I whispered.  “You copy?”
No response.
“Anyone see Alex?” I asked the group.
More crackling.  A round of nopes from Jeff, Kevin, and Lila.
Walt cleared his throat.  “Saw Frodo about five minutes ago.  In Sector Four.”
I pulled the small map of the forest from my back pocket and flipped it open.  Shit.  Sector Four was a densely covered area.  Perfect for a guerrilla style ambush.  Double shit.
“Okay,” I said to the group.  “Everyone hold your position.  I’m gonna go—”
Gunfire exploded behind me.  My gut clenched with the knowledge that the cacophony originated from Sector Four.  I whirled, coiled and ready to spring forward and take down every last one of them until I found Alex.
Static whirred around in my ear, white noise filled with shouts, enemy fire, and most important of all, Alex’s voice.  “Under fire,” he shouted into the walkie amidst a spray of static.  “Location compromised.”  More crackling.  “Aw, fuck!  I’m hit!”


  1. Dear Tuesday Tease: How can you leave us THERE?!

  2. in my naive head, those are paintball guns, not real ones.


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