Taken Over (The Ravening 2)

I sighed as I closed the cabinet full of cleaning supplies and turned to the fridge. My eyes widened, I felt my mouth drop as I spotted the note stuck to the fridge by a magnet. The magnet was of Jenna sitting on Santa’s lap. The picture was a good ten years old, but I had known her then, and the strawberry colored pigtails and bright smile were instantly recognizable. I spotted Jenna’s name as I tore the note from the fridge. I wanted to read it, wanted to know what it said, but it was not my note and I couldn’t bring myself to know about Jenna’s family before she did.

I nearly ran from the room, my heart thumping in eager excitement as I rapidly searched Jenna out. I glanced into the room where I had left Lloyd, but he was standing by the window, his hands clasped behind him as he lifted his face to the sun. His eyes were closed; he had found some solace in the gentle rays warming him. There was something peaceful and almost joyous about him. I hesitated for a moment, taking comfort in the small moment of pleasure he seemed to have found.

I tore my attention away, needing to find Jenna, and unwilling to interrupt Lloyd’s moment. I hurried up the stairs, trying to be quiet in my excited rush. I hit the top of the stairs, and turned the corner to find Bret standing in a doorway. His eyes were sad as they landed on me, his mouth was drawn tight. I froze, uncertain what to do, I held either joy or a major letdown within my grasp. I wished that I had read the note after all because judging by the look on Bret’s face, whatever was in that room, was not good.

Bret frowned at me; his eyes darted down to my now fisted hand. He glanced back into the room before breaking away and coming to join me. “What is it?” he asked quietly.

I looked behind him, but Jenna was nowhere to be seen. “I found a note with her name on it.”

“What does it say?”

I shook my head as I licked my lips nervously. “I don’t know. I didn’t read it, it’s not my note. What’s going on?”

“It’s her aunt, she’s frozen.”

Disappointment and hurt for Jenna filled me, but there was also something else. Something that nagged at the back of my mind for a brief moment, something was wrong. I buried the niggling doubt beneath the returning hope that what I held was good news. There was always something wrong now. “She needs to see this.”

Bret nodded as he turned away from me. He moved slowly back to the bedroom, looking hesitant as he stepped through the doorway and spoke softly with Jenna. Lloyd had crept up the stairs, only making a sound as he stepped off the last step and into the landing behind me. I lifted the note for him to see, but he didn’t ask any questions, and I didn’t offer any information as Jenna emerged from the room. She looked broken, drawn. Her eyes were red rimmed, her face streaked with the tears that had slipped down her pale cheeks.

I held my breath as I handed the note out to her. It has to be good news, it has to be good news, I prayed silently. I twisted my hands eagerly before me hoping that the note held something that would help ease the broken look on her face. Jenna frowned at me but slipped the now crumpled paper from my grasp. She pulled it open, her eyes widening as she spotted her name, and the words.

“It’s from my mom,” she breathed.

I inhaled a shaky breath, fighting back the sudden rush of tears that sprang to my eyes. Hope tore through me, happiness and relief filled me as Jenna’s face lit with pure joy and her bright green eyes shone with tears of happiness this time. “They’re alive, they both are. Or at least they were a week ago. She says they waited a week for me, but there were other survivors moving through and they realized they had to move also. They are heading into Boston, in hopes that there will be more survivors and protection there. She’s not sure exactly where they will be. No matter what, as long as one of them is still alive, they will leave me a note either at my grandmother’s house, the science museum, Paul Revere’s house, or in a mailbox at a home on Beacon hill. She says they love me and miss me. There are tear marks on the paper.”

Jenna was also crying by the time she was done giving us the details of the note. I didn’t think she realized this though as she was smiling radiantly and didn’t wipe the tears from her face. “Why so many places?” Bret asked softly.

“In case one or all of the others are destroyed,” Lloyd answered. “Or in case they don’t make it near any of the others.”

“They will go to my grandmother’s, no matter what,” Jenna insisted.

“But there is no guarantee your grandmother’s house will still be standing.”

Though the words were harsh and clipped, Jenna didn’t flinch from the truth of them. I felt she was too happy to acknowledge the pain those words would have normally inflicted. “It’s ok, they’re alive,” she breathed. “I will find them, no matter what, and that is all that matters.”

I nodded my agreement. She had come this far, her parents had come this far, I firmly believed they would be reunited again, and I was going to do everything I could to make that happen. “I should have left a note,” Bret mumbled.

I rested my hand on his arm, squeezing it gently. “You couldn’t have known that your mother probably wasn’t affected.”

“I still should have done it; I just assumed that we would be able to get back…”

His voice trailed off, his strong jaw clenched as he turned away from me. I could sense his anguish, his frustration, even though he was trying to keep it buried. “There are plenty of us that wish we could have done things differently, unfortunately there is no changing the past. We have each other, we have our lives, and we need to keep moving forward,” Lloyd said briskly.

I didn’t ask what had happened to his family; he probably didn’t know and none of us liked to be reminded of the loved ones we’d lost. “There’s always hope,” I whispered, briefly recalling my dream of Cade earlier.

Bret’s forest colored, beautiful green eyes came slowly back to me. For one brief, highly alarming moment, I saw only despair in a gaze that had always been so full of wonder and joy. And then, much to my relief, he managed a small smile and squeezed my hand tightly. “Yes, there is.”

I realized too late that he might have taken my words the wrong way. That he may think that I meant hope for him and I again, when that was the last thing in the world I’d meant. I glanced at Jenna, not wanting her to think I had changed my mind about Bret. We’d just become tenuous friends, I didn’t want to ruin that, but she was still staring in wonder at the paper in her hands. I jumped slightly when Bret’s thumb stroked over my hand.