Children's Fiction
She takes another ragged breath. "That..." She waves toward the front door and gulps. "That's the man who killed your father."
It had only been seconds, but I glanced up and realized that I was alone in the office. The rest of the class had already reached the stairwell.
A pair of eyeballs peered over the edge of the desk. I froze in shock.
They were human eyeballs...that were still attached to a human head.
I suppressed the urge to yell as a guy popped up from behind a desk and started toward me. Something metal gleamed in one hand. He had a scruffy goatee, a nose ring and a tattoo on his upper arm.
The spit in my mouth dried instantly. My feet were moving before my brain gave the command to run. I sped out of the office and down the stairs, slamming the door behind me.
One minute she was not there and the next she had dashed in among them, her dangling leash sailing through the air after her. Her silky coat rippled in the breeze and she had incredible ears, black and tall, shaped like butterfly wings. Her feathery tail curled up over her back one minute, streamed out behind her the next and, a second later, tucked itself out of sight between her legs.
To Dickon, that tail shouted, "I want to be friends … I'm running away … I'm afraid."
He understood the little dog completely. He, too, had felt confused and desperate.
"You can't do that," Luke said. "If those two guys catch you, they'll kill you."
"If I don't do it," I said, "they're going to kill hundreds of thousands of dollars' worth of bloodline bulls. Including the one I used to feed by hand with a bottle."
I turned and ran back toward the barn.
