Home > Work > Fallout
1 " What if I make it through this, so damaged that the rest of my life is a living hell? A graphic rerun of everything I survived, but over and over and over again?” She inhaled a shuddering breath. “So every single detail—that was already burned into my brain and every inch of my body—gets worked in like oil on a cutting board!” Tears dribbled down her face. “But I’m not a cutting board, Dakota, and what I went through in British Columbia was not oil to be worked in,” she whispered. “It was worse than dying, and I’m afraid that living after this will be a worse punishment than I ever imagined.” She shrugged one shoulder. “And I don’t think I’m up to the task. "
― Ashley Nikole , Fallout
2 " Horns blared and tires squalled, then Avery collided with a bumper and went down. Her breaths reverberated in her ears as she all but kissed the cool cement, trying to get her bearings. She had no time to be dizzy, no time to be weak—no time to be in pain! Someone was yelling at her. Another horn blared. Avery pushed up her knees, trembling. She wasn’t ready for this. "
3 " He pressed a finger to her carotid and swore. She was dead. His target. Dead. Not on his watch was she gonna stay that way. “You’re not dying today, lady.” He grabbed the switchblade knife from his jean’s back pocket, flicked it open, then cut down the front of her sweater. He pocketed the knife and clasped his hands together, then laced his fingers and pressed the heel of his hand to the middle of her sternum and began compressions. "