Book: Chapter 2

Chapter 2

David didnt know, but there had been another pair of eyes watching him since he had stumbled out of the woods. Those eyes were wide eith terror as they watched his body convulse from the spider’s powerful venom.

Although she feared for David’s safety, she knew better than to move from her hiding spot.

“The spasms are slowing.

Is he dead?

Not if he’s who we think he is.

Touch him.

Ewww, i dont want to, you do it!

Get the girl, make her do it.

Girl! Girl child, get out here. GIRL!”

Sarah ran from the woodpile where she had been hiding.

As she went toward the boy, one of the women stuck her foot outand tripped Sarah.

“Stupid girl. Can’t you even walk right?

Touch the boy child. See if he’s alive.”

But i can’t, Sarah protested, it will hurt…

A firm slap silenced her. “Who told you to speak? Do it!”

Sarah slowly reached her hand toward the now still boy’s shoulder.

The moment her fingers made contact, she hastily withdrew them.

Thankfully it was enough. The boy softly moaned.

Sarah ran toward the woodpile. She wasn’t stopped. The women, satified the boy was still alive began to care for his wound and brought him a blanket.

One of the women approached Sarah.

“This boy, he’s special. You will be our eyes. Follow him. You must not lose sight of him, but you know what will happen if he sees you. Don’t screw this up.”

Sarah nodded, but she wanted to scream. Her heart was beating so fast, she thought it would pound through her chest. How would she follow him wherever he went? What if he saw her? She couldnt let that happen. No one else would die because of her. She didnt know how the women would see through her eyes, but she hoped it wouldnt hurt.

David was moving a little now, although his arm twitched occasionally.

He was alive. Sarah would be watching to see how long he would stay that way.


This is another page or so in the book that I’m blog writing.

David stopped talking. Something had touched his hand and sent a shiver down his spine. He opened his eyes and looked at his hand. On it was a spider, unlike any he’d seen before.

It was small and black, with a green line down its back. He was about to brush it away, when it bit the tender spot between his thumb and pointer finger.

The pain was immediate and aggressively started spreading through his body. David saw that the spider was still on his hand, still biting him, but he couldn’t move. His body was paralyzed as the spiders venom coursed through his veins.

The women at the fire intently watched the spider, but none of them moved to brush it off.

It didn’t matter long. David’s body, suddenly freed of paralysis, began convulsing and the spider fell off and disappeared into the woods.


As David moved closer to the women and their small fire, he was suddenly, almost sickeningly reminded of his mother. Odd, he thought, but he didn’t allow himself to reminisce. His constant attention to the present moment was the only thing that mattered.

The women were chanting something, but he couldn’t make it out.

In unison they looked up at him.

You’re tired, and hungry. Say a few words, and we will give you some food before you head on. Even young travelers must rest, one of the women said.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know how…or what to say. I don’t know if I believe. I don’t understand…”

Shhh child. There is no set way. Some pray to God. Or to many gods. Some talk to the woods, or the moon, or even their own spirit. Our world is too full of evil to remain silent. One must speak. To anything, anyone with power to make a change.

“I don’t know if anyone is out there who could somehow stop it, but our world is in trouble. The outcasts are moving again. They kill. They do much worse. They spread. They killed my mother. My friends. I know I’m just a kid, but I escaped. My mom said there are reasons for everything. So there must be a reason for me.

I don’t know how to stop it. How to fight them, but I will find a way. Let my heart have courage for the battles. Let my mind be sharp. Let my words become honey, sweet to even the most hardened ears and minds…”

Although David didn’t notice, the women had been watching the oil in their pot since he had begun speaking. As they watched, beads of oil had risen in a line and moved toward the center of the pot. When he said those words “let my words become honey” the oil had changed into honey. Strangely shaped honey crystals were forming along the sides of the pan.

“I must become more than I am now. Please, unlock my potential. Please show me who I’m meant to become. Please help these strangers who’ve helped me. if something can, it should.

This is Baker speaking. Enough for tonight. If anyone is actually reading these, you don’t have to. I’m writing a novel on WordPress and it seems like I’m only doing a couple of pages a week. Anyway, I’ll post these in the “book” category, and I’ll try to put book in the title if you want to skip, but its easier for me to write a bit at a time. Night.


As David splashed through the creek bed after leaving his mother, he couldn’t help but cry. He had loved her, and her death would have been horrible. Maybe he should have stayed and tried to help her fight them off, but she demanded he run. The fear in her voice had been so intense. He had to listen. He had to obey.

She had taught him to be strong, but she had also shown him there was great strength in recognizing his weaknesses. He would honor her with his life.

The creek was cold and he felt far enough along to step out and try to find shelter from the deepening darkness. As he clambered over the slippery rocks, his shin was gouged by a protruding twig.

Nothing like leaving a trail of blood when being chased by killers he thought to himself. Maybe they didn’t know about him. Maybe they wouldn’t try to find him. He has to get it cleaned up though, and he could see some smoke rising a little way away. The “Outcasts” don’t like fire, so it should be safe to venture toward it. Maybe they would have something to bandage his wound with as well.

David drew closer and could smell that some sort of oil was being burned with the fire. It looked like three old women were the only ones by the fire. David was out of options as he stepped from the cover of the woods.

The Arrival

This is part of a book I’m writing as we go. A blog book if you will. Yeah, I know that’s not how people are supposed to go about writing/publishing/promoting books, but I’ve never been a fan of rules.

My previous post was the forward to it.

It’s too late. The fire is dying.

Shhh, I think I hear something.

Huddled around the dwindling fire, the women spoke with haggard voices that suited their aged faces.

They listened carefully for any movement, the smallest sign that tonight would bring what they had long waited for.

Leaves rustled in the distance, followed by the sharp snap of a twig.

Hurry, he’s coming! Bring the oil!

They placed the pan with the oil on the fire and soon a strange earthy aroma melded with the warmth from the fire. The rustling in the woods was coming closer. Even the fire seemed to quiver with anticipation.

Remember, he doesn’t know. It is not for us to tell him.

Shhh, he’s here.

The women’s knowing eyes looked at last on the face they had seen only in their visions…the frightened, dirty face of the boy who stumbled out of the woods.

Book: Forward

“Run, David! Dont let them see you!” He would never forget the look in his mother’s eyes. Desperation and fear were etched on her face.

David gave her one last hug, and with tears in his eyes he did as he was told. “Run David” echoed in his mind as he raced out the back door, willing himself not to look back.

The woods did not seem as frightening as the image in his mind of what was coming to his house. To his mother. He couldn’t have saved her. She was dead either way.

As he entered the saplings near the edge of the forest, he heard sounds of glass breaking, followed by a blood curdling scream. It would be over soon. Keep running, David told himself. After what seemed like hours, he came to a small river.

Though only 10 years old, David knew that the Outcasts wouldn’t venture into water. Even for him.

As he stepped into the cool water, he said quick prayer that his mother’s death would be quick and complete, and that he would survive the night. He didn’t know if God was real, but he needed all the help he could get.

Book…and other things I don’t really remember

Good news…I really did/do think I’m going to write a book. Bad news, I can’t actually remember telling you that. Weird news, that doesn’t even sound like me. Short and sweet when I could elaborate? Y’all… I did go to college in Texas, but that’s stretching it.

So, yes, as my other personality (the southern, to-the-point, and already fully medicated one) mentioned, I do think I’ll write a book. I can’t give out too many details cause there are so many wonderful word press writers who might get their own medication and get crazy enough to steal my idea and write a better book (see, told you I like words too much to use them sparingly). Ok, I know that was not actually a sentence, but it was getting so long…

Anyway, like I was saying, I can’t talk about my book idea. (3 paragraphs for that!!!)

Long story short, I’m still going to blog (before I take my night meds) and thanks for caring about my ramblings. Also, let’s not worry too much about the short-term memory loss and weird voice. I also tried to walk last night after not walking at all in the last 7 months. It is a good thing my husband was there to talk me down from that one. Scary.