SEE SPOT RUN DVD BACK COVER SKIN
When his mother took him, he looked up at the glowing orb of the moon for the first time, felt the cool breeze on his skin and the damp grass beneath his feet, and could think nothing more than, “ This is night.”įor that one, shining moment, the world had seemed just within his grasp. “This is night,” and he would see stars and the moon and glowing street lamps. “This is day,” his teacher would say, clicking a button to show a picture of the sun and bright blue skies. He hadn’t known the difference between day and night outside of training until they ran away. Time was already strange for a blood prophet and within the walls of his father’s compound, he had known nothing beyond white walls and thin razor blades and the ever-present awareness that he was allowed to see every future but his own.
It couldn’t have been more than a month, nothing compared to the years they had spent on the run and the years before that he had spent as nothing more than one of his father’s many assets. He wasn’t sure how long it had been since he lost her. But as she bled out in his arms, every prophecy beneath her skin spilling out into the sand below, he couldn’t decipher anything more than the lesson already ingrained into his skin: never stop running. Better than all of the men in white suits that his father hired, better than the clients that waited impatiently for a glimpse into their futures. He’d gotten better, over the years, at deciphering meaning from the jumbled words of her visions. “Go north,” and “He’ll never find you there,” and “They won’t stop howling.” “Go north,” she had choked out, in between the screams that she had never before been weak enough to let through before.
It was like he was two places at once gritty sand and blood coated his hands as he tried desperately to staunch the bleeding in one moment while the wind and snow pelted his face in another, a constant reminder that he was about as far from that California beach as possible. The wind howled and her screams echoed in his ears, only this time they never reached their eventual gurgling end.
The night of the storm, Nathaniel could feel his mother’s blood drying sticky on his skin.
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