I'm participating in NaNoWriMo this year and I really want to get my latest novel finished by the end of the month. It would be great to have it in your hands by Christmas or the New Year, right?
Here's a little excerpt from what I wrote this morning. Enjoy! x
A lamp clicked on and Jake’s heart jumped in fright. It was a couple of seconds before he realised the old man in the chair, by the window, was the one who turned it on.
In three strides, Hannah was kneeling next to him. She kissed him tenderly on his cheek. “We’re here, Grandpa.”
Is he her grandpa? Jake tried to perceive any family resemblance between them but failed.
“Let me see the boy,” the old man warbled.
One of the black-clad men positioned himself by the door with his ear against it; the other, by the window, peering out of chink that wasn’t quite closed properly.
Hannah beckoned Jake forward.
Tentatively he approached the old man. “Hello.” It was all he could think to say.
The man laughed, “Hello, Jake.”
“How do you know my name?”
Again he laughed. It was a wheezing, rumbling sound as though he had something on his chest. “I know more about you, Jake, than you know about yourself.”
Jake shrugged and snorted bitterly, “With what I’ve learnt lately, I’m not surprised.”
“Come closer.” He waved a wrinkled hand.
Jake shuffled closer and knelt before the man. He smelled of peppermints and medication. It wasn’t a pleasant odour, but Jake didn’t recoil from it either.
“Do you know who I am?”
Jake glanced at Hannah, “Hannah’s grandfather?”
Again, the wheezing laugh which this time terminated in a coughing fit.
Hannah rushed forward and rubbed his back. “Come on now, Grandpa. We don’t want to bring the nurses rushing in here, do we?” She glowered at Jake, “Don’t make him laugh again.”
As if that was my fault! Jake scowled at her.
“No, lad, I’m not Hannah’s grandfather.” He waved her away, seeming irritated by her attention. He leant forward in his chair. “My name is George.”
“Nice to meet you,” Jake smiled at him.
He grinned, his teeth either missing or yellowing. “I wish I could say it was nice to meet you too.”
The smile fell from Jake’s face. “Oh.”
“Oh, don’t take it to heart now.” His head shook slowly from side to side. “I mean no offence.” He took in a deep breath. Sadness was written all over his features. “You’re one of us, that’s what I mean. I wish you weren’t, Jake. I truly wish you weren’t.”
“One of us?”
“Oh, you know by now. You’re one of the chosen. A eugenics soldier.”
Jake felt sick to acknowledge it. “Yes, I know that.” He frowned, “But you?”
“Yes,” the old man’s eyes opened wide. “I’m one too and this,” he opened his arms wide, indicating the room, “is what I have to show for it.”
(c) 2017 Karen Aminadra. All Rights Reserved.