Volunteer for the Crapometer #8
Shots whizzed overhead. I crouched behind a tree and tried to locate the shooters. The underbrush rustled and a body crashed to the ground beside me, breath ragged, torso splattered red. I jumped in surprise and jammed my shoulder into the trunk of a tree.
"Ouch! Oh shit, Devin."
"Sorry, Mom. You're on your own," he whispered.
I sank to my knees beside him. "Shit."
"You gotta get out of here," Devin said. A barrage of fire rattled the underbrush to punctuate his statement.
I nodded, but didn't speak as he shoved his gun toward me. He gave me a weak okay sign as I stuck his weapon under my arm and slid to the bottom of the ravine. I blocked him out and crouched behind a bush as I listened for movement, but the woods were silent as birds, bugs and humans waited for the next fusillade. Sweat blurred my vision. I blinked it clear and searched for the safest way out of the ravine.
My hiding place behind the bush started to feel exposed. I dashed for a tree that offered more cover. Shots thudded around me. I hit the ground and closed my eyes. The ostrich defense--I was invisible because I couldn't see. The shooting stopped. I guess it worked. My breath escaped in a rush of relief.
I waited, listening. Nothing broke the stillness but the raucous call of a crow in the distance. I inched around the clearing on knees and elbows, keeping my profile low. The muscles in my arms started to shake with fatigue. My abs burned. My eyes stung as sweat ran down my face. In the movies, they make this look easy.
Holy moly, I'm kinda upset here that I only asked for page one!
Do you want to find out what happens next??
That's pretty much the gold standard for pages: do you want to know what happens next.
If the answer is yes, I can forgive a lot. If it's NO, no amount of proper punctuation or clever writing will win me over.
I'd definitely read on.