Chapter 1

The bright flash made Naomi drop the unicorn horn. It broke in two on her kitchen's linoleum floor. Only, she wasn't there to pick it up.

It was like an invisible trap door had opened up beneath her, except the ground stayed firmly under her feet. She blinked and swayed as the vertigo faded. Her kitchen was gone. In its place was a room with rough white walls and a packed earth floor. There was an overturned table and two broken benches. When she looked up, she saw the strange building's thatch roof was on fire.

She covered her mouth, but she was already coughing as she dashed from the single room building. She ran a couple of yards out and stopped. She bent over to gulp down some clean air. She tried to remember when she’d left her apartment and where she was, but no memories rose up, but she must have left. She was here. She had no idea where here was, but she was here. Her confusion was cut short and replaced by panic when she was grabbed by her hair and wrenched upright.

A man with a smoke stained face and greasy hair pulled her nose-to-nose with him. “Well, aren’t you pretty,” he said through piss yellow teeth.

Naomi reacted on instinct. She twisted in the man’s grasp and clawed at his hand. Her nails dug in deep.

"Let go, asshole!"

He hissed and shoved her away. Naomi landed on her side with an umph. There was going to be a bruise on her hip. She scrambled to get up, but the man moved in and shoved a bloody sword into her face. Sword? Naomi's brain blinked over the choice of weapon, but pragmaticism made her glad it wasn't a gun. She could outrun a sword. He had his hand tucked against his stomach. Naomi could see the edges of the angry scratches she’d given him.

“Gonna make you pay for that.”

“Who are you? Where am I?”

“The name’s Hammond. And you’re in a lot of trouble, lass. You’re gonna wish you’d been sweet to Hammond when I’m done with you.”

Naomi didn’t agree. She'd most likely regret not going for his eyes. She began to inch back and gathered herself to spring up and run.

The man noticed her movements and moved in closer with the sword. “No need to go anywhere. We can have fun right here.” Naomi went cross-eyed focusing on the bobbing sword point inches from her nose. Her stomach twisted at the way he said ‘fun’. She highly doubted his definition of fun synched with hers. She was sure of it when he began loosening his belt.

Her hand closed over a fistful of dirt. She was not going to let this gap-toothed, Ren-fest reject touch her. She waited until Hammond’s belt was undone, and his trousers fell to his ankles. She couldn’t help noting the tiny tootsie roll bobbing so proudly between his legs. Hammond leered down at her as he grabbed his minuscule member with his free hand and waggled it at her. She smirked up at him and threw the handful of grit in his face.

She hit him square across the eyes. He dropped his penis to wipe his face, but unfortunately, he didn’t drop the sword. He blindly swung out with it. Naomi barely ducked the sword.

“You goddamn stinking whore, I’ll skewer you!”

She took off while Hammond struggled to pull his pants back up. She quickly made it to a street and raced down it. She scanned for help or someplace to hide, but every building she passed had all of their doors and windows boarded up. She also came across more men fighting with swords. She skirted around them and kept her eyes averted. She thought she saw red in her peripheral vision, but she wouldn't let herself turn to confirm. But the shouts and sounds of metal clashing were impossible to stop from hearing. The screams were especially piercing. She was positive that she was no longer in Atlanta. She somehow doubted she was any longer even in Georgia.

She was peering around a corner to gauge the safety of going down a new thoroughfare when someone grabbed her hair again from behind. It wasn't so much a surprise this time when Noami's head was jerked back to the enraged face of Hammond. She clawed again at his hand, but instead of letting her go this time, he raised his sword. Naomi froze when the blade touched her throat.

“Now, are you going to be a good girl or a dead girl?” he asked.

Naomi eyes swiveled as far as they could to look back into his bloodshot eyes. She couldn't help it--her teeth began to chatter. She couldn't bring herself to consider either option.

“How about a good woman? The world could always use more of them,” said a female voice from behind them. Hammond lowered his sword as he tried to twist around to see the newcomer, but before he could fully turn, a loud crack sounded, and Hammond went limp. The sword fell, and he released Naomi’s hair.

She whirled around to find him crumbled to the ground before a pair of granny boots. Her eyes traveled up over a long brown skirt and white peasant blouse to arrive at a wrinkled face with a pair of steady blue eyes peering at her.

The old woman hefted up the frying pan to consider it. “And I don’t even like to cook.”

Continue to Chapter 2