Tomorrow Belongs to Us by Lily Zante EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Author: Lily Zante
- Language: English
- Formats: PDF / EPUB
- Status: Available For Free Download
- Series: None
- Price: Free
- File Size: 2 MB
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and my stomach hollows out.
It’s the bloodcurdling screams behind me which make me turn around.
A young woman sprints towards me. It’s someone I know.
Heidi who doesn’t understand. Heidi who always corners me after
every lecture, asking for further explanations.
But now her bulging eyes are filled with terror. Unblinking, she bolts
Everything around me slows down but the movements are jerky,
jagged. It’s like watching an eight-millimetre movie with a projector playing
and the film running in distorted slow motion. She screams again, one long
ear-splitting, shrill scream, and that’s when I see him. The man behind her.
His expression is blank. His eyes aren’t focused. He’s walking calmly, his
hand shoved deep into his coat pocket, and then he pulls it out from within
his huge jacket. A rifle. Long and thin and silver.
It can’t be real, is my first thought. It looks like a toy. It has to be,
because it looks comical, and surreal and out of place on a college campus in
the Fall, where the trees are a medley of golden orange and red.
For a fleeting moment, I’m relieved it’s not bigger and bulkier—that
it’s not an assault rifle. My body relaxes as if this is a good thing. I look up at
the guy, he lifts his hand, takes aim, then smiles. “Bitch!” he yells, his voice
thick with venom.
This is real. My reflexes snap into action. I sprint forward, time slows
down, stops, almost, and I grab the girl. I spin her around, shielding her body
A loud noise explodes in the air, like a bomb going off, a noise that is
out of place here. My shoulder cracks into two, as though a meat cleaver has
sliced clean through it.
And then I see Cassie, her laugh infectious and wild as she runs around
with her water gun, aiming at me as she fires. She doesn’t stop until I’m
My nine-year-old daughter’s smile is the last thing I remember.
“Have you heard?” Arla ploughs through my front door like a heat-seeking
“Heard what?” I close the door and watch my friend march into my
living room as if she owns this place. “You haven’t heard?”
“Heard what?” I echo.
She switches the TV on and turns to the local news channel. It looks
like something has happened, and now I remember that people at work were
talking about something, but I didn’t pay any attention to it because I had a
report to do. I stare at the screen because Arla stands and stares at me as if I
should know about this.
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