GENRE: YA Sci-Fi
Hitting the ground is the hardest part. Nine times out of ten, it’s dirt or gravel. But all it takes is that one time on concrete, or worse, asphalt, to send even the most experienced Shifter into a panic.
My feet slammed into cobblestone. Muskets cracked and echoed down the alley where I’d landed. Acrid gunpowder stung my nostrils, searing my throat as I fought back a cough. My hair caught in the warm brick wall behind me, twanging and snapping as I lowered myself into a crouch. The gunfire grew louder and louder, bouncing off both sides of the narrow passageway, so I couldn’t tell which direction it was coming from.
Where was I? Valley Freakin’ Forge?
If so, my dang transporter had missed the target by well over two centuries. Good grief. How hard was a 23rd to 21st Shift? Wyck must have set a new personal record. He would pay for this when I got back.
If I got back.
Puffs of fresh gunsmoke clouded the few rays of sun in the dim alley. I slipped behind an empty barrel and pulled out my QuantCom. A Virginia address and instructions popped up. “Bree Bennis, pre-Tricentinniel midterm. Deposit package contents on Muffy van Sloot’s grave with following message: ‘There’s no time like the past.’”
So help me, I thought, if this is for a dead cat, heads will roll.