No Shelter from Darkness by Mark D. Evans Page B

surprise on the teacher's face was clear. “I thought you were sick?”
    Beth saw the smugness on Susan's face. “I was Miss, but I feel a lot better now.”
    â€œWhere's your mother?” The teacher looked around. “Where's Mary?”
    Beth took a breath and glanced up at the sky, trying to think of what to say.
    â€œMiss, it's my ankle.” Mary came limping from the side over the track. “I fell down the stairs this morning. I think I might have sprained it.”
    â€œOh. Well, where's your mother, Elizabeth?”
    â€œShe's at work, Miss,” continued Mary. “She said it was okay for Beth to run though. Gave her a full bill of health this morning, she did.”
    â€œIs this true, Elizabeth?”
    Beth held her breath and gave a shallow nod.
    â€œWell, I suppose if there's a place free it would be a shame to waste it. Don't you push yourself too hard, though.”
    Susan huffed. “But—”
    â€œMiss Pullen. Am I going to have to remove you from the race altogether?”
    Susan closed her mouth and stood up straight. Mrs. Humphries retreated to her side of the track while Mary went back to the spectator's side, having already taken a couple of steps before remembering to limp. Feeling flustered for the upset she'd caused as much as for having Mary lie for her, Beth tried to compose herself and ignored the subtle sneer from her foe.
    On Beth's left was Natalie; she would probably finish in the middle of the field behind Audrey, who stood on the other side of Susan. Beatrice stood on the left end of the starting line, and Kimberly on the right. The spectators on either side had no idea of the seriousness of the competition and continued to chat away amongst themselves. They would no doubt cheer half-heartedly once the whistle was blown, but they weren't as deathly silent as Beth thought they should be.
    Mr. Nichols fumbled for the whistle hanging from his neck, while Beth's gut turned with anticipation. Her adrenaline had already started to make her anxious. She held the back of her neck while tilting her head from side to side.
    â€œReady!” bellowed the head teacher. The girls all put their left feet on the line and poised themselves for the inevitable.
    â€œSet!”
    Beth heard nothing but the thump of her heart once, twice. The whistle was blown. She leant forward and her ears pricked up when she heard Mary's voice above all others, yelling, “No!”
    Beth's right foot, having left the ground, swung beneath her, but as it crossed the starting line it stopped, abruptly. Fractions of a second passed while Beth looked down to see Susan's left foot planted on the grass in front of her. Beth tried to save her balance, but her body was too far forward. It was too late. Susan removed herfoot, and the damage was done. Beth fell forward to the ground, like a poorly executed dive into water. She'd managed to get her hands out in front, but she still had to close her eyes as her cheek skidded along in the turf.
    Beth looked up and spat grass. She could smell the soil on her skin and her cheek stung. On either side of her, the field of runners made leaping strides away from her. The last of them was Susan, who had plenty of distance to make up the second or two she'd spent ensuring Beth didn't even start.
    But the fire of anger within Beth that Susan herself had ignited began to rage, and her resolve gripped her and made her body tense. The field was already several strides ahead in a race that continued to play out in slow motion. Beth's hands, stretched out in front of her, clenched into claws and she dug her fingers into the soil. She pushed herself up, pulling her left leg forward and under her. Her toes dug in, and she pounced forward like a jaguar into a flat out sprint, throwing bits of grass and soil up behind her.
    The world slipped away. The spectators weren't just silent; they weren't even there. There was nothing but Beth and the track before