Another week behind the NaNo belt, and the word count jumped a bit!

November 9-16
Someone decided that they needed to go rogue and completely jump the rails, taking the story into an entirely different – and weird – direction. It’s New Bedlam, so of course there’s going to be weird, right? But jeez. The weirdness and the hopping back and forth and the fighting.

Still, I think it may work out, in the end. It’ll just be a wee bit longer than I’d anticipated.

For whatever reason, I took the day off yesterday. I’ll be back at it today at some point, I’m sure. I didn’t quite reach my weekend goal of 40k, but I’m still well ahead of where I need to be to make it all work. I still plan on hitting 50k next weekend!

Also, I participated in the #WriteClub Write-a-Thon last weekend, and I won a prize – character art by Haley Crosby, a fellow NaNoer and fabulous artist. I’d like to introduce you all to Jack Dawes!

(PS – yes I know the resemblance to a certain Highland Immortal is uncanny, maybe ‘cuz that’s how I described him! LOL)

Word count as of the midnight, Nov. 8th: 35,843

Excerpt:

Jack ran his hands over her hair, looking into her eyes as he moved over her. She closed them when he entered her, arching against him.

They’d been told to stay away from each other, but he’d sought her out, found her in the hallway looking for him. He’d dragged her into the nearest room and stripped her of her clothes. She’d done the same for him, and before long, they were on the floor, quietly taking advantage of lax security.

When they finished, he held her close. They talked of nonsense, what books they’d been reading, what movies they’d seen. Memories of their past together, whatever would keep their minds off everything else.

She cracked a joke, and dug her elbow into his side. The joke was funny, but the pain wasn’t. He ran his hand over his ribs, and felt the misshapen spot. She did it again, and he pushed her away. It hurt, more than it should.

Next thing he knew, Shay was punching him in the head. Trying to fight her off was impossible, his limbs felt dead.

The scene around him changed, and to one more familiar.

The lapis lazuli tile gave it away. Only Ma’at would have such luxury out in the open like that. He walked past it into the judgement hall where he was greeted by Ammet. Licking her lips, she eyed his chest like she’d get a taste of the meat inside soon. He ignored her, instead choosing to pay attention to the altar where the scales sat. Ma’at was removing the feather from her headdress, and was weighing it against a heart. Illogically, he wondered if the heart were his.

A movement below the altar got his attention. Shay was on the floor, writhing in pain, crying out for him. Her chest was wide open, skin flayed and ribs spread like wings.

“Ma’at, no!” he cried out, tried to reach out to Shay, but someone grabbed him from behind, turning him. Anubis’ grin flashed briefly, before darkness fell once more.

Jack woke, startled out of sleep by the insanity and shock of the dream.

A steady beep kept rhythm with his heart, and there were still tubes and wires attached to him. Still in the med rooms of the Dhrmin-Grigori house. Still drugged up, but not as bad as before. He wasn’t in any pain, even when he moved a little, nothing hurt. He reached up to feel his temple, and found the bandages gone, leaving only the stitches.

He breathed a sigh of relief.

Looking around, he found that this time he was all alone. No Healy, no Angela, no nurse. Thankfully, no Darcy. He couldn’t remember why, though he was sure he knew deep down, but he wanted to sock that mother fucker in the face. Hard.

Finding a call button on the bed-rail, Jack pushed it. Within a few minutes, a nurse appeared, and he asked to talk to Healy and the doctor. She checked his vital signs while she was there, and promised to get the doc in as soon as he was free. After adjusting the IV unit, she walked out, leaving him to his own devices.

He couldn’t remember everything from the dream, only that Shay was in Ma’at’s judgement hall, and she was dying. Jack knew it was just a dream, but the nagging sensation that there was something wrong with her wouldn’t leave him alone. He remembered Healy telling him how badly she’d been hurt, he remembered leaving the house, but after that everything was a blur. Had she gotten worse? Had he?

Patience had never been his virtue, but the broken memory of the last time he left the house, lingered enough to keep him where he was. He pushed the call button again twenty minutes after the nurse had been in the room, and he waited. When she appeared again, he asked to speak to Healy, too. Maybe he’d show up faster than the doc would. Doubtful, but a possibility.

He fell asleep before either man showed up, but when the door opened an hour later, he woke. Both the doc and Healy entered the room, and this time it looked like the doc was ready to discuss things, rather than just dope him up and leave him.

“What’s happening with Shay, Doc?”