Pahnyakin Rising by Elisha Forrester Read Free Book Online

mistake to create thick winged liner on each of her eyelids.  She opened her eyes wide, one by one, and applied a slightly-thinner line of black on the u-shaped curve under her eyes.  She turned her head to the left and right as she inspected the makeup.  Satisfied, she closed the silver tube of eyeliner and shoved it in the front half-pocket of her skin-tight leggings.
    A yawn unexpectedly escaped from between the teenager’s bare peachy lips.  She looked down at her firm pillow and could not resist lying down and closing her eyes for only a moment.  Her thighs ached from the muscular strength used in holding herself under the bridge and it felt as if right forearm was bruised, though she lifted the sleeve of her sweater and could see no visible blemishing to her skin.  It surprised her that nothing was there; she bruised easily and often as a result from her own clumsiness.  At least twice a week, she would inadvertently bump into a piece of furniture or a doorframe and jokingly think to herself, ‘ Who put that door there?’   By the time one black and purple bruise would heal, she would have three new marks.  She was thankful she had avoided the fight with Stacy in the locker room.  One punch to the face would probably leave her eye bruised for weeks.  Dresden was certain she was not built for combat.  If ever there was a way to talk through a problem or avoid conflict, she would find it.
    The teenager’s head was turned sideways on her eggplant-colored pillow and towards her window as her eyes gently closed.  She knew she should set an alarm to wake her up in a half hour, but once she shut her eyes she could not muster the willpower to get up again.     
         
     
    -6-
     
     
     
     
    “Crap,” Dresden muttered to herself upon waking up and seeing a blurry green 10:00 glowing from the black alarm clock on her nightstand. 
    She yawned and stretched her arms above her head until her elbows tightened and lightly popped.  So much for a short nap.
    Undeterred from checking on the data from the transmitter, Dresden slipped a flamingo rubber bracelet over her left wrist and twisted the tight band until the chunky microchip embedded in the jewelry rested on her pulsating vein.  She walked softly to her bedroom door and opened it slowly.  The teenager peeked into the dark hall and listened for any sign that her parents were awake, though she knew the chance they were up was slim.
    She crept down the hall and placed her hand on the front door’s locked silver knob.  In the kitchen, Pierre stirred from his blanket-covered cage. 
    “Peek-a-boo,” he squawked. 
    Dresden ignored the bird and unlocked the door.  Its hinges squeaked and the girl winced and stood frozen with her right knee bent, afraid the noise woke her parents.  When she heard no movement at the back right of the home, she proceeded to the front porch and closed the door behind her.
    The late-night, mid-September air was cold and harsh against her cheeks.  She shivered and exhaled.  Her breath fogged in front of her mouth and she walked through the cloud to the aluminum-framed bicycle propped up against the side of the house.  Her father’s sedan was parked at an angle in the driveway, a sure-tell sign he was in a tired rush to get home. 
    She wrapped her palms around the black grips on the handlebars and straddled over the seat that was positioned to her pelvic bone.  Pedaling was difficult.  Her legs ached tremendously, but she was determined to make the five-mile journey to the bridge.  She had timed her trek a few days earlier.  It took 23 minutes to ride to the bushes where she and Dodge hid the transmitter.  With sore muscles, she estimated the trip would take a half hour or longer. 
    ‘ Maybe I should go with Dodge in the morning,’ she momentarily thought to herself as she neared the end of her block. 
    Not one to give up on her goals, Dresden continued her ride.  The full moon was casting enough natural