Free Fall of Hope (Book 1): Real Heroes Don't Wear Capes by R.M. Grace

and bushes. Her mother is a gardener who
often pops around the houses in the village to see if they want any
work doing. When she asked Danny, he agreed without consulting his
mum on the off chance Stacy might lend a hand. To this day, their
back garden resembles something from the Jungle Book .
    Danny
goes a shade past beetroot if Stacy so much as glances in his
direction. If she flutters her eyelashes to reveal those emerald eyes
dotted with hazel, he turns into a mess. If she ever talks to him, he
turns into stuttering wreck—a complete embarrassment to watch.
But he is still adamant she is the girl—with her golden hair
hanging to her waist—he will marry.
    Perhaps
his superpower should be brain washing.
    “ Well,
only like what I've told you.”
    “ It's
not quite the same though. It didn't come true, but I saw a picture
of what I saw in my sleep.”
    “ T hat's
still weird. Is there any chance you could have seen it and then
dreamed it?”
    “ No,
I don't think so. I've never seen the picture before today.”
    The
sun disappears behind a modest cloud. For the first time since
parking his butt on the brick wall, he feels a strange sensation he
cannot place.
    “ I
remember when I had that dream a few years back about that dog
attack. It was a pitbull, I think, but it didn't look like one.”
    “ How'd
you know it was one then?” Bobby titters, knowing where he is
going with this.
    “ I
don't know .
You know, sometimes your mind remains rational, however crazy it is.”
    Bobby
nods as he glances across the road to the front gardens. He searches
the hedges and gates as the cloud passes away from the sun and brings
the warm rays back on his skin.
    Something
doesn't feel right.
    “ Well,
I was seeing this wolf-like animal with raggly fur, matted with
blood. I guess I knew it wasn't real because it was too small to be a
wolf. Anyway, it grabbed this little girl who was playing on her
scooter outside. She was singing that old Fleetwood
Mac song,
'You can go your own way'. I don't know why, maybe she raided her
parent's collection, or something, but it was booming out from the
ear phones. The birds were scattering across the sky in all
directions, but they were completely silent. There were no cars, or
people making noise—just that song and her singing over it. The
wolf came out of nowhere with bloodied saliva dripping from its jaws,
then bam!”
    Bobby
flinches as Danny claps his hands to emphasise his point.
    “ It
dragged her off by her leg. She was wearing white socks with purple
dots and frilly bits around the tops. The one sock turned red as its
teeth sank in, then her screams filled the air. She was screaming and
gargling—this terrible noise I still hear sometimes. Then my
eyes went dark around the edges. ”
    He
drops his lips into a frown. “ The
wolf was growling and shaking its head. When it bit harder on her
leg, blood went flying in every direction. And you know what? No one
came to help.”
    Pulling
his hand from the wall, Danny examines the light pink tissue against
the usual pasty skin. The scar stretches from his thumb to his
knuckles. The bumps and groove still show across the top of his hand
and palm.
    Someone
was there in the summer of 2010 when Molly Mason was gliding down the
street on her princess scooter. Someone impeded her and a pitbull. He
never brags about it—he rarely even speaks about it—but
Bobby knows Danny often wonders what would have happened if he
weren't turning the corner at that moment. The dog must have freed
itself from the owner's garden because the rope was still around its
neck and trailing behind it as it ran. From its open and foamy jaws,
crimson spittle spilled into its fur and decorated its teeth. Danny
described it as looking “like it had just mauled something.
Perhaps a rabbit, or a neighbour’s cat.”
    Bobby
never asked him if the dream came first; he only had to look in his
eyes to know the truth.
    Was
it fate, or a premonition?
    He
cannot say, but