The Urban Survivalist Read online

  Responding to the theft by sheer reflex, I scooped up my leather duffel and in the same motion swung it so it clocked the guy on the ear. The laptop in it made for an effective bludgeon. He went down hard on his hands and knees, skidding a little and losing his grip on the strap. Heather scooted over and seized her bag back from him. Vaulting to her feet, she ran towards the Park entrance as fast as she could, hugging her carry-all to her chest. I watched her run away in disbelief until an angry, inarticulate rumble came from the direction of the ground near me. I backed up a couple of steps from the sound, nervous.

  The would-be thief stood up with rage in his brown eyes and growled, “I’ll get you for that!”

  He lunged at me. I didn’t even stop to think—I swung my bag across both shoulders, spun about, and dashed into the woods.

  “Hey!” a distant voice shouted.

  I looked back. The shirtless sunbathing guy had gotten up and was running my way, too. Not sure if he was going to help me or the thief, I kept right on going.

  I was frantic to get away—who knew what the guy chasing me would do if he caught me? A jolt of what felt like electricity flashed through me almost as if in answer and made me leap forward in the air. I speedily glanced about to see if there were any other live wires I needed to avoid, but all I saw was the perimeter of a large mushroom-ringed patch of moss. I landed and continued to run. For some reason my mind pulled up from my storehouse of trivia that this was a fairies’ dancing circle, and a place of power. Just then I noticed to the left a mist rolling along the ground through the trees some distance away.

  Maybe I could use it to lose this guy! I thought hopefully, and veered towards it.

  It seemed a little strange that fog would come in before the clouds did, but beggars can’t be choosers when trying to avoid a beating, or maybe worse. Twigs clutched and tore at the exposed skin on my arms and face and drew drops of blood as I sprinted for the mist. Low hanging branches knocked both my sunglasses and my hat off me, but I didn’t stop to pick up either of them. When I reached the swell of fog it seemed to grow thicker the further I went in, but the twin sets of footsteps behind me still kept pace.

  “You won’t get away from me—I’m gonna teach you a lesson about butting in!” the thief’s voice huffed in anger.

  I saw a glow ahead and off to the right that grew brighter as I drew closer. Surprised, I headed for it, thinking maybe it was someone from Park Conservancy who could help me. A burst of hope gave me enough fresh energy to outdistance my pursuers. I barreled into a tiny clearing and came skidding to a stop only a foot in front of the source of the light. It was a tall, wavering shimmer somehow stretched between two massive oaks. A cool blue-white in color, it had ripples of darker blues and brighter whites rolling from top to bottom. Mist poured out through the flickering light and fanned past my body in thick billows, like the light was an open doorway to a fog-filled room.

  I looked around for the machinery or the people that had to be about, but the area was empty. Crazily, I wondered if it was a weird trick of the weather, or if it was somebody’s special effect set-up. A loud crack from a branch getting snapped in half by one of the guys following me made me jump, and I tripped over my feet and fell towards the lit-up space between the two trees.

  The shimmering light flared around me when I touched it, and everything went white.

  To read more of Lise’s adventure, check out Prisoners of the Keep, Book 1 in The Mist Gate Crossings Series.