"One Last Chance" Short story

I stumbled, and fell to my knees against the hard bitumen of the road. I quickly scrambled to my achy feet, with trembling fingers brushed the pebbles indented with blood in the scrapes on my knees. I looked hind end over my shoulder, my eyes darting right to left frantically, terrified. Where was it? My schnorchel coming in- shuddering gasps that wracked my consistency with pain. Then I could soak up it! It was coming at the end of the street, the dark big and murky van, the harsh chrome menacing like an animal in the twilight. The grille at the bird-scarer of the van, baring its teeth in anger and madness. The engine in turn growling back as if in conversation, like an animal salutary of inclination for blood and pain. I darted quickly to a small scrub near the road, shivering, rubbing my hands over my freezing arms, my body protected by no veerg simply a thin dress of cotton.

The van crept forward, like a predator inquisition for his victim. The bright headlights, a piercing gaze, searching, looking...for me. But I was hidden, but I knew if I stayed here they would eventually come by the shrub and. I lowered myself closer to the dirt, til I could well-nigh taste the grainy black substance. I whimpered, the painful memories flash bulb by my eyes.



There was no time to waste, I jumped to my feet, ignoring the yell pain from my aching and cramped muscles. I had to get outside(a) before it was too late.

The headlights caught my silhouette. I froze, like a rabbit, deficient my legs to carry me away from this unspoken danger in front of me. I could hear the shouting voices from the van, Russian voices, the hard and guttural consonant language, rolling towards me like waves...

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