Monday, March 29, 2010

Burning Ambition: Day Four.

I know what you're thinking, this is one long sneak preview. Here's the latest chunk:

Alison kicked out hard, shoving the bed across the cell. Then she pointed her fingers at the ceiling. Six faces, one bearing a tattoo of Belgium, stared down in amazement. Alison burned a bigger hole. The six faces started screaming as the floor gave way beneath their feet. She jumped up and pulled Heather upright as the wailing henchmen fell through the floor and landed on the cold hard concrete.

"That's the power of prayer for you," Alison said. Stepping over the stunned, twitching bodies, she shot out a hand and melted the bars of the cell."Let's go," Alison ordered the frazzled stand-in, grabbing her arm and pulling her from the cell. The pair picked up speed as they fled the maze of cells in the basement of the warehouse and charged toward an emergency exit. The door opened.

"Is that another angel?" gasped Heather.

Alison's heart started beating faster. It was Tommy Hull, universally known as T, Beverly Hills High's Junior President of Cuteness. Once he had regarded her superpowers with something approaching revulsion, but now they fought evil and injustice side by side.

"No," Alison told Heather, who was staring at T with an expression that could only be described as worshipful. "That's my boyfriend."

Alison and T gazed warmly at each other. The flush of first love still lingered. Then a thick, hairy tattooed arm wrapped itself around T's throat, lifting him off his feet.

"T!" screamed Alison. Before she could rush to his aid, a new group of henchmen, this one armed to the teeth, charged into the basement. Alison looked at he oncoming horde. Then she looked back at T, who was struggling with a muscled opponent on the steps leading up to the emergency exit.

"I'm on this," he gasped, swinging a powerful elbow into his attacker's jaw. "You get her out of here!"

Alison threw her arms wide open. A wall of fire suddenly separated her from the rampaging henchmen. Heather uttered a gurgle of fear and disbelief. "Are you sure you're an angel?" she managed to ask.

"Why? Don't I seem angelic?" demanded Alison as she yanked hard on the girl's arm and dragged her away from the flames.

Minutes later, Alison, Heather and a bruised, banged-up but unbeaten T made their way through the emergency exit down to the lower-level parking garage. It was deserted, apart from the burned-out, rusty shells of some ancient expired automobiles.

Alison smiled at Heather. "Don't worry. You'll be back pretending to be Treasure Spinney before you know it."

Heather's mouth twitched. From her reaction, she looked as if she was about to confess how she really felt about her day job.

Then five figures descended from the ceiling, landing on the roofs of the cars. Alison and T stared at their unexpected new adversaries. They were clad in head-to-toe black. Even their faces were swathed in dark cloth. They were soundless. They moved with a deadly grace. They were like panthers.

"Ninjas," breathed Alison. "Belgian ninjas."

Holy shit! More to come...

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