A vaguely familiar shuffling sound pierced my consciousness, and I felt my brow winkle as I tried to place it. My eyes fluttered open. I was looking at pine needles and sky. Sitting up carefully, I couldn't help but shiver in the cool air. I pulled the fur cloak closer and nearly jumped out of my skin at the dark hair cascading down my shoulders until I realized that it was mine.
I have blonde hair, what the . . . ?
Looking around I saw that I was sitting on a large rock ledge in what appeared to be temperate wilderness. I stood carefully and leaned back against the rock wall behind me. My dress appeared to be unharmed.
Thank God for small miracles.
I brushed some pine needles off the hem of my cape and pulled the hood up as a chill breeze hit me. I looked around for a moment, and noticed what appeared to be the strap of my bow sling hanging from a nearby tree branch. I tried to take a step and tripped. Damn heels!
(At this point a short explanation is probably in order. I ended up in my second-cousin's wedding party to begin with because I introduced her to her fiancée. He and I met through a local archery club, and as the wedding approaches, he's been picking me up from these fittings and taking me to the range and then dinner. He says it's because I'm the only bridesmaid he likes that Celia can stand and he needs pointers on how to deal with Paige's famous temper tantrums. I think it's because I'm the only female Paige doesn't bitch about him hanging out with. Anyway, that's why there was a compound bow, in a sling, leaning by the mirror on the floor of the dressing room – happy?).
I edged my way toward the tree branch and sighed in relief (for some reason) to find my bow, in sling, all accessories happily attached, dangling within my reach. After retrieving it I carefully removed my bridesmaid gloves and stored them in the inside pocket of the cape. I detached my release and my arm guard and put them on, carefully ignoring the fact that I was in a forest instead of a dressing room, and focusing on the super-realistic details of whatever hallucination I was experiencing. I loosened the bow sling strap until it could fit easily over the fur cape and put it on backwards. I unsnapped everything, took out my Bear Siren Shadow Series, shoved my Cabela's camo visor and matching sunglasses back into the sling and pushed the sling around behind me. I detached the quiver from the bow, took out an arrow and threaded it to the whisker biscuit. Six arrows . . . with practice tips . . . blunt, but still very capable of damaging something. I pushed the cloak off my right shoulder, secured the release, pulled back the bow string and stared down my field sight. I looked around for a moment searching for a target.
The shuffling sound caught my attention again.
What is that and why does it sound familiar? And why is it making me anxious?
Still looking through the sight I peered over the edge of the rock. Something flew by me and made a wet sound as it hit the rock behind me. I turned my head slowly, horror-movie style and saw a glob of blue-green acidy goo sizzling on the rock. I could feel myself hyperventilating as the shuffling started again.
Oh, shit! Oh, shit! Oh, shit-shit-shiiiiiit!
I looked back through the sight and felt myself shaking. It was all I could do to force the fingers of my left hand open so I wouldn't pull the shot. I flicked the release, plastered myself back against the wall, and then . . .
I screamed, like I've never screamed before. . .
