The Survivors: Book One

February 6th, 2013

Ohio

1

She definitely needed help.

It had taken Angela a while to convince herself that calling Marc was what had to be done to get her son back. The voice of fear was constantly warning of past punishments, but now that she'd called, it was a struggle to keep from doing it again. She hated being alone, hated being scared.

Angela was dreading the journey she was about to make, but most of all, she worried about the edge of panic in her dreams that said it would all be much worse than her life with Kenny, if that were possible. Her nightmares said she would face dangers that made the Marine look like an amusement park ride and if not for the deep love in her mother's heart, she wouldn't go.

The woman frowned at her thoughts. None of her fears mattered. Only her boy did, and she could wait no longer to leave. The circled day on her calendar was still over a week away, but she was going now and needed to know where Marc was, had to be sure he was really coming this time. Without his help, her plans stood little chance.

She wasn't looking forward to telling him her story, planned to put it off as long as she could, but the odds were against her making it alone. And then there was Kenny. He wouldn't just hand her son over and let her go. Between her Marine and the terrain, she would definitely need help, and Marc Brady was the only one she had left to turn to.

"You can't!" her fear shouted, telling her Kenny would kill her for it and the door in her mind stayed firmly shut.

Angela stood stiffly in the dark hallway of her apartment building, fear preventing her from making the call. Once she did this, once she left, there was no turning back. The urge to go inside and keep waiting was incredibly strong, but she shook her head, heart taking control.

"I'll kill him if I have to! He won't keep us apart!"

The rush of angry energy blew her fear aside and the door swung open. Her breathing became shallow, hair beginning to gather static, and power ran through the mud-tracked hall as the Witch gathered the energy needed to find the right doors that would cover hundreds of miles. Her eyelashes fluttered shut as the memories washed over her, strengthening the connection.

Jet-black hair, long and feathered, and soft on her fingers as their mouths touched. He was the only man she had ever loved and she called for him now, releasing a powerful vibration that rattled like an earthquake as it went.