Vision in Red by Sajjad Rasool - HTML preview

Children of Olive

She looked around. The shadows under the market stalls were moving. They were pooling together, forming a tide of black liquid that was creeping across the street.

"Get up," Amal said, hauling Yasmin to her feet. "If we stop, we fade. Keep moving."

They scrambled forward, their lungs burning. The car was closer now. Fifty meters. Twenty.

Amal fumbled for her keys. She pressed the unlock button. The lights of the car flashed—a blessed, cheerful orange blink.

They reached the doors. Amal threw hers open and practically fell into the driver's seat. Yasmin scrambled into the passenger side.

SLAM. SLAM.

Amal hit the lock button. The click of the mechanism was the sweetest sound she had ever heard.

"Start it," Yasmin wheezed. "Start it."

Amal turned the key.

The engine cranked. Chug-chug-chug. But it didn't catch.

"No," Amal moaned. "No, no, no."

She tried again. Chug-chug-chug.

Outside, the streetlights flickered and died. Total darkness fell over the camp.

Except for the eyes.

At the end of the street, where they had just come from, two red lights appeared. Then two more. Then two more.

They were high up. Floating about three meters off the ground.

"They're coming," Yasmin whispered. She was curled into a ball, her hands over her ears. "They found us."

Amal tried the key again. "Come on," she screamed at the car. "Come on!"

The red eyes were moving closer. Drifting silently through the dark.

And then, Amal remembered Huda's words.

The Watchers cannot eat ink. It burns them.

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