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“Gross!” Shandra waves the smoke away from her face with a cough. “Thanks, asshole.”
She pushes him out of the way, slamming him against the wall hard enough that the guy’s eyes widen in shock. He presses his hand to his chest where she’d shoved him. She probably left a bruise.
Shandra takes two steps before she sways on her feet. Mr. Muscles quickly grabs her from behind to help steady her. As he walks a confused, drowsy, and dizzy Shandra toward an emergency exit at the end of the hall, he looks to anyone watching like nothing but a concerned boyfriend helping his drunken date outside.
Pain flairs behind my eyes and in my temples when the vision fades. I’ve never had so many visions in a row, and my body is protesting. But I can’t stop now. This is working. I wait a moment for a bout of nausea and dizziness to pass, but as soon as I can walk without falling over, I head to the emergency exit.
“Oh, my head is going to hate me forever,” I groan when I push the door open and am sucked into the most intense vision yet.
As soon as Mr. Muscles pushes the stumbling Shandra through the door, she collapses. Mr. Muscles is strong, but he can’t hold her dead weight and struggles to get her unconscious body to the ground without dropping her.
“Damn,” a new voice says. “How much does that bitch weigh?”
Another guy, who looks like he comes from the same gym as Mr. Muscles, jumps out of a car that is backed into the dark alley behind the club just feet from the exit. It’s a ghetto mustard-yellow, low-riding Chevy Nova with ridiculous spinning rims and a chrome exhaust pipe. There’s a decal on the back window that seems out of place on the tricked-out classic car. It looks like a fraternity logo of some sort, but I don’t recognize the symbols. I snort. Yeah, these guys are definitely fraternity types. Stereotypical to the point of painful.
“Too damn much, bro,” Mr. Muscles says with a grunt and a laugh. “Help me get her fat ass in the car. Did you get the security camera?”
“Taken care of,” Muscles Two says as he grabs Shandra’s feet.
Together, the two meatheads are able to tuck Shandra into the backseat of the car. “Damn,” Muscles Two says as he finally gets a good look at Shandra beneath the car’s dome light. “She’s ugly, too.”
“Trolls aren’t exactly known for their looks, dumbass.”
“A troll?” Muscles Two whisper-hisses as he shuts the door. He glances all around the alley, as if suddenly afraid a boogie man is going to jump out at him. “You swiped atroll?”
Mr. Muscles hurries around to the passenger side of the car. “Yeah, and I bet we only have a few minutes before her two troll friends come looking for her, so get your ass in the car,and let’s get the hell out of here.”
Muscles Two’s face drains of color. “Two more? Shit! Are you insane? Those things go berserk. Just one troll could level an entire city in a rampage.”
“Yeah, but, dude, imagine having that kind of power. She’s the best thing anyone could get their hands on. There’s three guys competing, and only two spots to fill. Elijah said species matters. This’ll get me voted in for sure.”
“If we live through this,” Muscles Two grumbles as he climbs behind the wheel.
The car peels out of the alley, and the scene goes black.
