Category Archives: Chapter 7

            The scream echoed off the buildings around them, elongating the sound.  Marin flailed wildly and Thom struggled to hold onto her, biting back a curse as she slammed her arm into his injured ribs, setting fire to one side … Continue reading →

            It was raining again by the time J.T. came to check on them, carrying a bag in one hand and a crutch in the other.  His hair was still wet, but his clothes were dry as he tossed the … Continue reading →

            Thom lay on his back, staring at nothing with Marin’s blanket pulled across his chest, so he could at least have a hint of her near, since it smelled like her.  It had taken half an hour to convince … Continue reading →

             Kellin was at the rim of the ravine as they scrambled onto higher ground.  Her eyes widened as she caught sight of their generally disheveled appearance, the mud and water spattering all three of them from their wild dash.  … Continue reading →

            They broke into a run, slipping along the bank until they reached the fork in the ravine.  Drew cut right, heading for the wide expanse of meadow below what used to be the arboretum and central campus.  The sun … Continue reading →

            Everyone else’s stress had created a dull pounding in his head over the past few days, exacerbated by the atmosphere of desperation mixed with hope and despair.  Marin’s anger and frustration was like a knife cutting through all of … Continue reading →

             “What were you and Kellin talking about?”  Thom asked as Marin moved the pile of finished blankets out of the way and settled down next to him, near the fire.             She shook her head a little.  “Nothing important.  … Continue reading →

            Marin was walking toward Thom when Kellin caught her by the arm.  “We need a pow-wow,” she murmured.             Marin blinked at her.  “When?  Now?”  She glanced toward Thom.             Kellin winced.  If we have it now, he’s going … Continue reading →

            Morning had worn away into early afternoon by the time J.T. came back to camp, his sweatshirt wrapped into some kind of bundle, cradled in his big arms.  Jacqueline blinked, pausing in her supply-sorting to watch him.  Did he … Continue reading →

            Horses.             He was pitching a tent for horses.             He wasn’t working alone, of course.  No way in hell could he get one of these big blue and white monsters up without help.  But for horses?             Davon … Continue reading →