Day 4, 10,035 Total: 50,097

Yes, that's a technical victory. Obviously that means it was too easy for me. I don't count 50k as a victory. I am writing a complete novel in November, and that's going to take more than another 50k to get there. I had feared that I would be writing a short novel when I started. I'm not worried about that any more.

I enjoyed writing today much more than I had the day before. I hope tomorrow continues that way. Soon I'll be dropping down to 5k a day and getting back to regular life, but for a few more days I'll stay up a little longer, not wash the floor as often, and not watch any TV. I'd much rather be writing, anyway.

So here's today's snippet:

Nic reached the top of the stairs, picked up speed as he headed across the open area --

The sound of a car door opening startled him. No light, but he had the impression of something dark black and ominous, sitting there like a spider in the night.

He heard the sound of a gun primed, ready to fire --

Nic backed up, looking toward the steps -- too far away. He tried to get away from the cliff --

Bright light suddenly blinded him. The car lights turned on. He dropped the box, the hands -- aware that the wind caught it and danced it off over the side of the cliff and off into the ocean. All of Abbie, gone to the sea now.

He had his knife. That wasn't going to be much help.

The gun fired, once-- twice --

Something caught him, propelled him backward. He tried to grab at the ground, the rock --

For a moment he hung in empty space.

Flying, free. I don't want to die!

He reached out, grabbing at anything as he dropped, and almost immediately caught at the cliff side. His fingers didn't hold, but it did slow him as he slid downward, trying go dig hands and feet into the crumbling rock. A sharp pain grew in his right side. Shot. But that didn't matter. He wanted to stop falling.

Dirt and rock tore at his hands and knees, but -- damn. He finally stopped moving downward. He could hear the ocean too close below and remembered the rocks below this cliff, and how Windi had hit them.

He didn't know where to move. He could see nothing and feel nothing at all. There might have been a climber or two who went down this cliff, but those feelings had crumbled away in the rain. He held on, gasping for breath, wondering if Eli would find him.

Heard voices. He couldn't tell what they said, echoing oddly down the cliff, and the wind blowing around him. Did he recognize the voices? Could it be Donner and Belton? He couldn't be sure. He didn't try to look up. Just pushed himself harder against the cliff, his fingers holding tighter. He dared not move.

And then a light found him.

"Damn. Said.... rocks."

Another shot. Rock shattered beside him.

And another. Pain in his shoulder, shock -- his fingers let go.

He fell, and he hit the rocks....