The Adventure Begins in Disaster
Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada
Fiona was so busy gawking at the fruit and vegetables, the range of delicious chocolates and the vast array of donuts in the Winnipeg winter market, she missed the pothole in the carpark. Her foot snagged on the lip, the pack on her back shifting her center of gravity. Down she toppled. Jean-clad knees collided with the gritty surface. Outstretched hands struck hard gravel, and the force grated her palms as she came to an abrupt halt.
Her bag of shiny red apples split, the fruit rolling away like tiny missiles firing across the parking lot. Something whistled over her head, thudding against the brick wall of the building in front of her with enough force for fragments of masonry to break free. A shard struck her cheek and another her coat sleeve, burrowing into the winter-thick fabric.
“Crap.” She picked herself up with a pithy curse and checked her hands. A little blood. She blotted it away with a tissue and set about rescuing her apples.
A scruffy homeless man wearing holey black trousers and a bright green coat beat her to the first one and took a defiant bite. Fiona raised her hands in surrender and backed away. His gap-toothed snarl told her he needed the healthy vitamins more than she.
After studying her throbbing palms again and removing a piece of grit, she adjusted the weight on her back and hustled to the donut stall. When it was her turn, she pointed at a Boston crème in the cabinet. She handed over her money before guilt got the better of her. She should purchase more fruit for the train ride. With her donut and change from the assistant in hand, she darted back to the fruit stall. An insect whizzed past her right ear. She slapped at her head, not surprised since biting bugs loved to snack on her.
“Someone’s shooting!” a nearby man shouted, his stark panic lifting the hair at her nape.
Fiona froze, a chill sweeping her arms and legs. Her gaze whipped to her left, her right. Frantic hands shoved her from behind, pushing past her. Another insect dive-bombed her ear.
Except, not a freakin’ insect.
Bullets.
“Run!” a woman screamed.
A woman in a blue coat fell in front of her and the happy crowd at the winter market morphed into full panic.
Shouts.
Cries.
Sobs.
Screams.
Fiona’s heart raced, attempting to drill from her chest. Each breath rasped from her throat, rapid and harsh. She froze. Which way? Where should she go? She couldn’t think, couldn’t decide.
With no destination in mind, she sprinted to the left toward the interior part of the market. A child stumbled right in front of her. Instinct had Fiona grabbing him before someone ran over the top of the boy and crushed him.
“Leave my son alone!” The mother seized her child, glared at Fiona and fled in the opposite direction.
A man crumpled to the ground, right beside her. For an instant, Fiona gaped at the pooling blood, a stark red against the pitted gray tarmac, until a black woman grabbed her arm.
“This way!” she screamed at Fiona and bolted away.
Fiona followed, almost hyperventilating in her fear. Her lungs ached.Not enough air. Couldn’t breathe properly. Slow. Calm.Breathe.
Mercifully, air filled her lungs and loosened the band around her chest.
Hysterical screams and yells filled the air, pandemonium swelling in a wave. People pushed. They shoved, desperation voiding their manners.
A woman squeezed past her, blood dripping down her face.
The chill on Fiona’s skin switched to full terror. Run! Which way now? Screams rippled around her. Sobs. Confusion. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, deafening her.
Fear and chaos pulled her along with the rest of the frantic shoppers. Sirens blasted through the air in the distance.
A policeman roared through a loud speaker. “Stay indoors. Don’t go onto the street until we give the all-clear!” He repeated the message over and over.
Finally,finallyFiona reached the entrance to the inner market. She struggled through gaps and inched inside, her daypack a hindrance in the panic-stricken crowd. Once under cover, she spotted the black woman and darted over to crouch with her behind a wooden counter.
