The Scorpion’s Head

The Scorpion’s Head

Prologue
She was woken by a high-pitched, piercing sound. It was
like a warning that penetrated her brain.
Run.
She wanted to sit up, but her body was too heavy. The same
lethargy kept her eyes closed and stopped her from screaming. She
tried to swallow the sour taste in her mouth, but it was no good.
She had no idea where she was. She could still hear that pulsing
note, like an alarm. Gradually, more sounds seeped in. Voices
that came from far away. A door closing.
And that smell.
She tried to think what the smell reminded her of. Medicine.
A child. That smell made her think of a child.
Something bad had happened to that child.
Again, she tried to sit, but a sharp pain shot up her neck to
the back of her head. The pain was new. She took it as a sign
that her body was slowly waking up. It was probably going to
be a few minutes before she could open her eyes and feel strong
enough to escape.
Because that was what she had to do. The child needed her.
The heaviness that held her captive came in waves. She could
feel herself getting sleepy again. The voices faded into the background,
and even the repetitive high-pitched notes became duller,
until they were no more than the dripping of a tap.
She struggled not to drift off.
Or she would be too late.
She repeated the thoughts that had passed through her mind.
There was a child.
Something bad had happened to that child.
Suddenly a voice came out of the darkness, no more than a
whisper.
And it was because of you.