Eyes Ever to the Sky (A Sci Fi Romance) (The Sky Trilogy) Read Free Page B

climbed out so fast? Hugh bent down and touched a finger to the claw marks. They were huge.
    Branches thrashed on the other side of the crater. Hugh stood upright, fear pumping. Deep in the tree cover, a shadow bolted away. Hugh couldn't make out features, only size. It was big. Grizzly bear big.
    As he looked, the shadow stopped. Hugh didn’t breathe as the shadow swiveled. Eyes blinked from the distance. Large, red and angry. Hugh stumbled backward. What kind of animal had red eyes? Away. He had to get away.
    He turned to run. Voices sounded from behind him; the locals must've been coming to check out the crater. When he looked back, across the wreckage, the shadow was gone.
    But not for long , Hugh thought as he bolted the opposite direction, his heart hammering into his throat. Whatever it was it had scented him. It would be back. 

CHAPTER F OUR — CECE
    Tuesday 10:15 a.m.
     
     
    Cece pulled at the strings dangling from her jean shorts in frustration. Her shorts, cut from some jeans she’d outgrown, were worn and ratty. She grabbed her work shirt off her bed and eyed it. With Lizzy’s Ice Cream stenciled on the pocket, the Pepto Bismal pink tee was the newest shirt she owned. No money for new clothes, not when the propane had run out a week ago. Cece yanked another string dangling on her tan thighs. Maybe when she got her first paycheck she'd have a little to spare for something new. She sighed and checked her ponytail in her mirror. Probably not.
    A glance around her room told her it was satisfactory. The hand-me-down floral bedspread was tucked military-tight around her mattress which sat directly on the floor. Her closet, doorless since she'd inherited the room, showed her clothes hung up in neat rows by color and season. The vanity she sat at was a thrift store purchase from Mama two birthdays ago. Though the varnish was chipped and peeling, she loved the antique. She straightened the hairspray can next to the rest of her make-up and turned it label out. Time to go. The circular pink princess clock she’d been dying to replace said she was running late. 
    Standing, she touched a finger to the folded paper square in her pocket. Mama couldn't find her rescue list. Plus, Cece liked having it with her, a security blanket with a few names of her scattered family members embroidered on it. Family she hadn't seen in years. Family who hung up on her.
    She pushed the thought away and tucked a folded copy of Psychology Today under her arm. She'd managed to snag a whole stack from the recycling bin at school. She'd read all of the articles on bipolar disorder at least a dozen times, thinking maybe if she could label and quantify Mama, she could fix her.
    She walked down the hallway to the living room. Mama was the wheezing lump on the couch. Cece climbed over piles into the kitchen, selected the cleanest looking bowl and poured Mama's cereal. With a glance over her shoulder, she pulled out one of Mama's pills and crushed it between two spoons. The milk seemed to absorb the powder instantly. As for the taste? She'd have to wait and see if Seroquil went well with Cheerios.
    She nudged Mama awake.
    “ Hijo de puta !” Mama muttered, her eyes dilating as she took in her daughter. “Cecelia! Good God.”
    “ Mama.” Cece offered her the bowl. “Take this. I gotta go.” She glanced to the clock. She'd have to pedal like mad.
    Mama glowered at the cereal. “What's in the bowl, mi amor ?”
    Cece shuffled her feet. What would Mama do if she tasted the pill? “Nothing.”
    Mama eyed her. “You know where liars go,” she said, reaching for the bowl.
    “ To the fires of eternal hell. Thanks for reminding me. How do you think Satan feels about bright pink?” She pointed to her shirt. “Will it clash with the everlasting flames? The instruments of torment?”
    Mama frowned. “Cecelia!”
    “Okay, okay. Just take the bowl already. I'm late.” She pushed it into Mama's hands.
    Mama sat up and cupped the bowl in her