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Back The Runaway Save as PDF
Chapters (48)
  1. COVER
  2. Digital Galley Edition
  3. BY HOLLIE OVERTON
  4. TITLE PAGE
  5. Copyright
  6. DEDICATION
  7. ASH
  8. ASH
  9. BECCA
  10. MO
  11. ASH
  12. BECCA
  13. ASH
  14. ASH
  15. ASH
  16. BECCA
  17. MO
  18. BECCA
  19. BECCA
  20. BECCA
  21. BECCA
  22. ASH
  23. BECCA
  24. BECCA
  25. MO
  26. BECCA
  27. BECCA
  28. MO
  29. BECCA
  30. BECCA
  31. BECCA
  32. BECCA
  33. BECCA
  34. BECCA
  35. BECCA
  36. MO
  37. BECCA
  38. BECCA
  39. BECCA
  40. BECCA
  41. BECCA
  42. BECCA
  43. BECCA
  44. ASH
  45. MO
  46. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  47. MEET THE AUTHOR
  48. A PREVIEW OF "THE WALLS"

“Ash, it’s me. It’s Mom,” Becca shouted, her voice heavy with emotion. Ash spun around, and Becca gasped. Ash’s eyes were hollowed out, slashes on her neck, the same wounds as the dead girl on the beach.

“You’re too late,” she said with a bloody toothless smile. Becca’s breath caught. She woke up, gasping for air. Her eyes opened and she was back in her room. She tried to shake free the image of Ash’s mangled body. She stretched, searching for Christian. Disappointment flooded her. He was gone. It was almost like a dream, only the imprint of his body remaining beside her.

Becca glanced at the clock. It was almost six in the morning, a hint of sunlight peeking through. She heard the creak of the stairs and tensed for a moment. “Christian, you scared the hell out of me,” she said.

“Who’s Christian?” she heard a woman call out. Becca froze, the smell of cigarette wafting through the room. You’re still dreaming. It’s just a dream. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping she would wake up. “Doc, you really need to improve your security system. Anyone could get in here.”

This wasn’t Christian, and this wasn’t a dream. Becca jolted upright and scrambled out of bed, fumbling for the light switch. She gasped, stunned to find Raya, the homeless schizophrenic young woman from Skid Row, standing in the doorway of bedroom, still clad in the same dirty T-shirt and jeans, a lit cigarette dangling from her mouth.

“What are you… Raya, what are you doing here?” Becca asked.

“You said if I remembered anything about your girl to let you know. So here I am.”

BECCA

BECCA

From Becca’s vantage point, Raya didn’t appear to have any weapons. That didn’t mean she wasn’t dangerous. Becca stilled, avoiding any quick movements that might trigger Raya if she were in the midst of a schizophrenic episode.

Becca quickly searched the young girl’s face for any physical symptoms that indicated a mental break. A vacant gaze. Involuntary facial tics. Jerky movements. So far, aside from the breaking and entering, Raya seemed perfectly reasonable, her eyes bright and focused, her gaze steady.

“Are you okay, Doc?” Raya said.

Becca kept her voice calm and even. “Raya, you’re in my home. You’re in my bedroom. I’m not okay. I’m quite worried. About you. About this situation.” Becca paused, weighing her words carefully. “About your current condition.”