A close encounter.

Hi everyone. Just some sneaky peekage at how my third novel, Ghost, is going. Kind of like a first-draft teaser trailer, for Tabitha’s third adventure.

In today’s roughed-out proceedings, Tabitha takes a trip to the museum. (Granted, it’s a blown-out museum in apocalyptic ruins. But a night out is a night out.)

Best enjoyed to the following spooky soundtrack, if you like the whole multi-sensory experience:

Tabitha stopped short; froze solid. There was a watcher there. A soldier. It was staring at something. Studying it. What was that, a fossil? A skeleton or something? Tabitha watched it from the shadows. Clenching her fists with a leathersteel creak.

The watcher startled and turned at a distant sound. Searching the shadowed hall for any sign of anything. Wait… there was a shape there. Dim, but moonlit. The soldier’s statue-head mask stared into the darkness. The stretched figure pulled the pistol slowly from its ornate belt. Taking aim on that hiding silhouette. Didn’t see Tabitha crouching, waiting. Staring with cat-glow eyes. She pounced from the balcony above it. Yelling and struggling as she shocked it into spasms and dropped it to its knees. Jerking and smoking from her crackling volts. Tabitha strangled it down in a deathly panic; it was flailing and gasping choked alien words. Struggling for life in the silence. Its armour grinding and squeaking on the hard shining floor. Jerking and shaking, and turning its gun on her. She tore the knife from its belt and cut its throat before the deafening shot. Held it in a writhing death-grip headlock until it gasped and struggled its last crackling breath. Finally fell limp and gigantic on moonlit marble, in a growing pool of golden blood. Sighing with relief, lying still to catch her breath, Tabitha grunted and shoved away its body on top of her.

She ripped the belt from its waist. Checked the heavy pistol and gulped a good half from the scaly water bottle. She slipped the watcher’s knife on horizontally across the back of her belt, like the tribe. With one last look at its cold bloody corpse, pooled and spread-eagled among the skulls and fossils, she was gone.

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