One Day in a Small-Town Desert, chapter 9, page 9

(start of book) (start of chapter) (previous page)



Fírí Parızada didn’t take her eyes off her crazy ex-boyfriend even after he switched to pointing the gun at Vata. His left arm hung loose, useless, a bloody bandage of what looked like sweatsocks and utility tape wrapped around his wrist. Had he been shot again?

“Then who will heal you, dear?” asked the old woman.

Fírí wanted to shout out that the healing was all a trick and a scam, but she couldn’t bring herself to say anything that might aid Zhíno. If Vata was able to get Zhíno to put down his gun, all the better.

Zhíno squinted at the old hag, then gradually smiled. “Very well. I’ll let you heal me, but only if I’m the one who sacrifices Fírí.”

“What?” Fírí gulped. Does Zhíno know more about this cult than I do?

Vata smirked, casting her maleficent gaze upon Fírí. “As you wish, dear.”

Plague of Rékaré! Just when I decided the old Nuvíní wasn’t going to kill me.

As if breaking from a stupor, Fírí hastily scrambled backwards away from the two who deigned to murder her. She had to hide. She had to protect herself. She had to get out of there.

Zhíno lazily swung the handgun toward Fírí and began following her into the chapel. “So you’ll let me shoot the twin of Vítí, after all?”

Fírí shrieked and dove to the ground, her muscles threatening to give out as she scurried for protection behind the two-meter-wide stone altar. Her breaths came hard and fast as her whole body jittered.

“You can’t hide from me, babydoll. Don’t even try.” His laugh brought tears to Fírí’s eyes.

All she had wanted was a quiet and happy future, and now the one person she had ever trusted was about to eliminate her future, totally.

She wiped tears from her squeezed-shut eyes with the heels of her palms. Ahísıhíta damn me. I should’ve left him at the portal. Why’d I ever trust him? Why’d I ever trust anybody? Sobs racked her body as she waited to die.

(next chapter)