I was three paces from Cricket when I felt the sound die off, then resume again for one brief second. Another radar pulse.
“Careful!” I shouted, adjusting my momentum and hurrying to back away. Too slow. She was already pivoting to swing at me.
Uh oh.
The handle of one scythe struck me in the side of my throat, the actual blade hooking around behind my neck to halt my retreat.
Uh oh.
Before I could do anything, she pulled me toward her. I stumbled forward, and she adjusted her grip to swing the other scythe up and into the side of my stomach.
Um. Hi there.
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