Description:
A man with a mysterious gift makes his presence known to the world through the destruction of a major American city, setting forth a twisting tale of romance, remembrance, and revenge.
As a member of a rare and powerful race of genetically-evolved humans known as variants, Cael has the unique ability to manipulate the very fabric of the world around him. Yet, outside of his beloved fiancée Summer Ayers, the only thing he has to show for all his strength is a lifetime’s worth of loss and letdown.
His parents and closest friends have all been dead for years, and the only people with whom he could ever hope to relate—his fellow variants—are nonexistent in his life. Only Summer has remained constant. So when an incident in New York City threatens to take her away as well, Cael finds he simply can’t let go, turning in desperation to the allure of his power if only to keep her a moment longer. He loses control, and in a single instant the very life of the city is snatched away forever.Lost and broken, Cael is left to face the fallout of his actions. The world brands him a monster and rightfully so. The government seeks to have him destroyed. Even his own mind begins to turn against him, as a ghostly choir of the lives he’s stolen rises up to test his sanity. Still, through it all, the memory of Summer continues to burn in his heart, a memory he refuses to relinquish until the day he can finally set things right.
Three-chapter sample included after the jump....
Sample:
The Place Between
November 18, 1988
I open my eyes to a starlit city skyline, beautiful and majestic against the black backdrop of night. All of the memories, all of the hurt, all of the pain—everything that I’ve experienced in my life seems so distant now, so far away, as if the dark and winding road that brought me to this place had never really been walked at all. Finally, hidden away in the most unreachable of places, I’ve found my chance at peace.
The form beside me mutters softly in acknowledgement as she tumbles over, lost inside the peaceful fluttering of faultless dreams. With a gentle sigh, she presses her body to mine, the dormant joy of her expression smoldering lightly in the pale glow of the moon as she lifts her head to rest upon my chest. Like clockwork my heart begins to race and I know as I’ve always known that I could never be without her. My love, my light, my darling Elizabeth…is it wrong for me to keep you here?
The quiet ruffle of satin sheets fills the night as I pull her closer, the fingers of my left hand tracing shapeless patterns across the small of her back. I can’t help but feel the soft warmth of her flesh resonating beneath my touch, can’t help but imagine the sparkling green eyes that wait for me ever so patiently behind slumbering eyelids. It’s foolish to think for even a second that I ever really had a choice, right or wrong. The moment I first thought I could lose her was the moment my heart forgot how to let go. It was also the moment I knew I’d do anything to keep her, no matter the cost.
A familiar flutter fills my heart as I feel the strength of my conviction flaring up within me, a powerful and passionate reminder of the many oaths I swore to never break. I promised her once that I’d always be with her, that I’d follow her into the darkest depths of the world if it meant she’d never have to be alone. I promised her my body and soul, my life, in exchange for her hand. Nothing in existence could make me forget that.
“Sleep well, my love,” I whisper softly after a moment, tears welling up in the corners of my eyes. I turn to place a single, gentle kiss upon her brow. “And I’ll be here waiting when you wake.”
At the words, I feel emotion overtake me, sweeping away my fears and doubts and replacing them with the quiet passion of this world. I know with the deepest part of me that I can never let her go. I’ll keep her here, forever by my side, until that day comes that I can finally take her home.
“Sleep well,” I repeat beneath my breath, staring a moment longer before letting my eyes slide shut. In the dark and distant recesses of my mind, I feel something stir, and I can’t help but wonder if somehow, someway she’s reaching out to me from the fringes of her subconscious. But then, just like that, the feeling’s gone and the dark is still again.
Chapter 1
November 19, 2013
2:02am
A shrill ring cut through the night, ripping Commander Timothy Englewood from the sanctuary of his dreams. He hadn’t heard the dusty, old phone to his private line make so much as a peep since his last government contract had ended and it wasn’t something to be ignored. Stumbling and fumbling his way through the dark, he slid into the chair by his desk and pulled the receiver to his ear. On the other end, an authoritative voice managed only a single sentence: “New York City has been compromised, assemble your team and prep yourself for extraction.”
Fifteen hours later and the Commander sat on one of the military’s largest transport helicopters, making his way across the nation towards the Atlantic coast. In one fell swoop, the chopper had quickly and quietly stolen away some of the country’s sharpest military minds from the comfort of their homes. Englewood’s own men—handpicked specialists he’d served with in the past—sat strapped in on either side of him, their faces pale with fear.
It’d been nine years since they’d been called upon, nine years in which they’d been led to believe their respective tours of duty had ended. At the time, it’d been made clear to them that their services wouldn’t be needed in the future, and yet, here they were, whisked away once again, their eyes nervously tracing the cockpit as they wondered what could’ve possibly happened to bring them back into the fold. Considering the nature of their team and the government’s persistence in finding them, it was hard not to think the worst.
“Mission Control, this is Recon 1,” a voice buzzed through their headsets. “We have the anomaly in our sights. Requesting permission to approach. Over.”
“Permission granted, Recon 1,” a different voice crackled back. “Approach with supreme caution. Get your team’s boots on the ground and bug out to Delta One to await extraction. Do you copy? Over.”
“Affirmative, Mission Control. Over and out.”
A collection of gasps and panicked whispers rose up from the other passengers as the radio clicked off, drawing the soldiers’ attentions to the southern end of the Hudson River. There, saddled up against the western bank, a freshly erected military base could be made out. Yet, directly its opposite, where New York City should’ve stood, the men found nothing but darkness. The anomaly, they all thought at once, knowing that’s exactly what they were looking at.
It was a shadow of sorts, immense and unnatural, rising up from the murky waters like some ancient, angry beast. Tendrils of darkness erupted from its depths at uneven intervals, piercing the sky like blackened blades before retreating back from whence they’d come. It almost looked alive as it twisted and flowed about the city, a river of haze so thick it couldn’t help but swallow up every inch of the metropolis, leaving nothing in its wake. The anomaly, they thought again. The word didn’t do it justice.
Unbuckling his harness, the Commander pulled himself towards the window and relayed to his team in short breaths their mission as it’d been briefed to him. New York City had gone dark, he explained, passing on his contact’s account of the sudden loss of communication with the city. The anomaly had appeared shortly afterwards, and that’s all that was known so far. The government needed answers and it needed them ASAP. That’s where they came in. Their experience made them ideal candidates for this type of mission. They’d be entering the city.
“Suit up, boys,” Englewood smirked.
Another ten minutes passed before the steady dip of the chopper could be felt, its massive blades thundering as it made its descent into the black cloud that hung over the city. Englewood and his team stood at attention in the aircraft’s cargo hold, clad head to toe in state-of-the-art tactical gear. Black duffel bags containing surveillance equipment and medical supplies lay ready beside them.
The hold jerked and hissed as the rear hatch creaked opened, giving way to torrents of darkened sky rushing upwards as the helicopter lowered itself into the city limits. At the Commander’s signal, the soldiers secured their rope lines to support loops and one by one repelled down into the darkness. Englewood was the last to go. He took a final pass of his surroundings, glancing up just in time to see blue skies and a crisp November sun give way to shadows. Then he, too, made his descent into the darkened maw below.
Chapter 2
November 19, 2013
6:37pm
Swirling winds ripped through the streets of the city as the Commander and his men stepped into the darkness, their breaths a pale mist in the biting cold of winter. Heavy shadows pressed in on them from all sides like a stifling, black blanket, clouding their vision beyond the faint illumination of their flashlights. What little light managed to push through was only enough to paint a partial picture of the world around them, a distorted, grey sketch of an eerie, lifeless city block. There were no honking horns, no distant sirens. Not a single voice called out for aid. All was quiet and still and impossibly calm. It was unlike anything they’d ever seen.
“Looks like night vision’s no good in here,” the Commander muttered quietly, fumbling with the goggles on his head before tossing them back in his bag. His men were silent as they went through their own pre-assignment checks, the calm and poise they’d managed to keep to that point faltering with each passing second spent in the dark. All around, they could feel it beginning to grip them—that senseless paranoia, that faint panic that rose up in the hearts of men confronted with the unknown. Englewood could feel it too.
He and his men had been trained to deal with chaos, to function as a unit through the most stressful of situations, through gunfire and explosions, screams of hatred and cries of pain. None of that seemed relevant now. For the first time in their lives, it was the quiet and calm that unnerved them most, the subtle touch of death they felt closing in around them that left endless questions racing through their minds. Even now, Englewood could read it on their faces, could almost hear it fall from their lips with each staggered breath: what the hell happened here?
A tall, muscular soldier by the name of Lieutenant Seth Jenkovich was the first to break the silence. “Keep your eyes open, guys,” he spoke softly as he stepped forward into the shadows. “And stay close. We still don’t know what we’re dealing with here.”
One by one, the men followed his lead, carefully making their way into the dark. Englewood was the last to go, a thin smile spreading across his face as he watched the Lieutenant take charge of the team.
The six-foot-four former marine had been his second-in-command for as long as he could remember, running point for the field unit and allowing him to take on a more advisory role. He’d proven his worth time and time again over the years with tactical prowess and a steady demeanor, quickly becoming the Commander’s most trusted agent as well as one of his closest friends.
They’d been together since the formation of the government’s Anti-Variant Agency Strategic Response Team in the late 1990’s, a specialized squad of men specifically created to carry out the every will and whim of the AVA without question. In their time of service, they’d been asked to do many things they weren’t proud of, sometimes terrible things, and it was the shared burden of their experiences that’d helped bring together even the most different of men. And different they were. While Commander Englewood was the heart and soul of the team, its emotional and intuitive leader, Lieutenant Jenkovich was its eyes and ears. He was perceptive and cunning, the kind of calculating and logical man that men felt comfortable following, even if he led them straight into darkness.
Up ahead, Jenkovich had only managed to make it fifty feet before stumbling over a heavy object and falling roughly to the ground. Inadvertently, he’d made the team’s first discovery.
With a groan, he rolled over onto his stomach and lifted his head, jerking with surprise as he found himself face to face with the corpse of a young woman. Her lifeless eyes gazed peacefully into his. “Whoa…” he gasped unexpectedly. “Hey, looks like we’ve got something here, Commander. You’d better take a look at this.”
Bringing himself to a crouch, he instinctively checked the woman’s neck for a pulse. There was none. The team formed a tight circle around him, their flashlights casting down to provide as much light as possible. The woman’s skin was pale and cold and wore the same ashy gray hue as the rest of the city. Even her eyes, which still gazed softly forward, lacked any real color to them. The team’s field physician, Damien Hodge, slid forward with his medical pack open, digging through the bag hastily before pulling out a tape recorder.
“Let’s have a look, shall we?” he started dryly, lifting the recorder to his mouth as he scooted Jenkovich out of the way. He ran his free hand along the woman’s body as he mumbled to himself. “…no sign of any lacerations or burns…no noticeable bruises or broken bones, no other trace of physical trauma…no real indication of stress or struggle at all…pupils normal…”
The medic’s voice trailed off as Englewood stepped away from the group, surveying the street beside them with his flashlight. The darkness hid the worried frown that’d come to cross his face.
Without a word, he dropped to a crouch at the edge of the sidewalk, a single hand running nervously through his hair as he let out a long, drawn out sigh. Something didn’t feel right. He’d looked into that woman’s eyes, just as he’d done countless times before, hoping to find some hint or clue as to what he’d been sent to deal with. But where he’d expected to find traces of fear and pain, he’d found something else, something he hadn’t prepared himself for. In that young woman’s eyes, Englewood had found a sense of peace.
It didn’t make sense. In all his time in the government’s service, he’d seen pretty much all a man could see, and if there was one thing that’d stuck with him throughout the years it was that tragedy was almost always poetic. There was beauty in death just as there was beauty in life. The two were linked—life and death, light and dark, creation and destruction. One could not exist without the other. No city had ever fallen without the accompanying symphony of exploding shells and clashing steel. No man had ever died without one last burst of life, be it in a final breath or a shimmer of the eyes. This fact had always held true in his life. But this, this was something different, something he feared he didn’t fully understand.
“What’re you thinking, Tim?” Jenkovich’s voice spoke from up above him, invading his thoughts and pulling him back to the cold confines of reality.
“I don’t know, Jenks,” he admitted with a shake of his head. “Something doesn’t feel right about this whole thing. It’s just…”
“…her eyes,” Jenkovich finished, much to his surprise. “Yeah, I saw it too. They seem so…I don’t even know how to describe it. Calm maybe? Like she doesn’t have a care in the world. Except the whole being dead thing of course.” He smiled quietly. “She couldn’t have seen it coming.”
“Never stood a chance,” Englewood echoed. “And that’s just it, the part that doesn’t make sense, you know? You can’t just flip the off switch on a person.”
“Death without life,” Jenkovich agreed.
“Exactly. Even if it was…you know…even one of them couldn’t possibly do something like this…”
The two sat in silence for a moment as they considered the words. Their secret, their burden, filled the space between them.
“You don’t think the agency could’ve been wrong, do you?” Jenkovich asked quietly, glancing over his shoulder to make sure the other men weren’t listening in. “I mean, they couldn’t have possibly messed something like that up, right? I don’t think the guys would handle it well if they thought we were here on an old-school manhunt. Most of them put that stuff behind them years ago.”
“There’s no way,” Englewood said. “And even if it was possible somehow, it wouldn’t be anywhere near this. You know how it works, they—”
“She’s clean, Commander, not a scratch on her,” Damien called from the sidewalk. He’d snapped on a pair of white latex gloves and was attempting to draw blood from the woman’s arm. “I’m gonna take some samples for the lab, but I don’t know, sir. Even a super advanced bio- weapon should’ve left some kind of marker. So, yeah, I have no idea.”
Englewood nodded, assuming as much.
“Well, we better keep moving then. Wrap it up, D.”
“But sir, the girl?” Damien motioned to the ground before him, where the young woman’s body had once again been swallowed up by the dark.
“You planning on lugging a couple million people out of here, Hodge? We’re here to find out what happened, not run a funeral service. We move forward.” With an authoritative pause, Englewood turned to Jenkovich and nodded.
“All right, you heard him guys. Let’s move.”
Once more, the Lieutenant took the lead, pushing forward through the shadows as the rest of the team fell in line in behind him. It was only a few more steps before they discovered a second body, an older man this time, and a few steps beyond that that they found two more. Slowly but surely, they waded their way into the river of the dead, moving block by block towards the heart of the city. Before they knew it, the sidewalks had become so crowded they could hardly be navigated, just an endless stream of empty shells staring blankly forward, their last moments trapped on their faces in all ranges of emotions. Except for those the men expected to find: fear…pain…
The streets, too, proved difficult to traverse, though certain areas were easier than others. The soldiers pressed on as best they could, their nerves heightening to uncomfortable levels as they entered the more traditionally busy parts of Manhattan. Where they would’ve normally expected to find blaring horns and people shouting, street merchants peddling their wares, they found nothing at all. All that remained was the whistling of the wind and the rustling of newspapers, and, of course, the short, staggered breaths of the men as they beheld the horror that stretched out before them.
The darkness grew thicker as they made their way forward, and soon even their flashlights could barely penetrate it. They were forced to move slower, more carefully and, as a result, more observantly.
“What the hell…? Hold up guys.”
Jenkovich stopped up short at a crossing intersection and motioned towards something in the distance. Excitedly, he took a couple steps forward and pointed again. “Do you guys see that?”
At first, the men saw nothing. The light from their flashlights barely stretched far enough to outline the cars and trucks resting motionless beside them, let alone anything further than a couple feet. Still, the Lieutenant continued motioning towards something ahead in the dark.
“There, all the way down that street. You guys can see that, right?”
It was Damien next to notice it, his eyes squinting tightly as he scanned the area Jenkovich was referring to.
“I don’t see…wait, there!”
The stocky medic took a few rushed steps forward, moving in next to the Lieutenant before starting to point himself. “You see that? There’s something shining in the distance. Light!”
One by one, the distant glow caught the men’s eyes, and one by one they nodded in acknowledgement. It was faint and far off, flickering like a candle in the dark, but it had to have been incredibly bright to cut through the heavy haze that’d come to cover the city.
“What do you think?” Jenkovich asked, turning to face the Commander.
Englewood studied the light a moment without answering, weighing the merits of playing it safe versus potentially finding some answers. In the end, he knew orders were orders. He chose the latter.
“Let’s move,” he said.
Just like that, they were off and running, zigzagging their way through the maze of bodies and vehicles that filled the streets before them. Their footsteps echoed loudly in the silence of the city, gradually pounding faster as they drew ever closer to the light. By the time they’d reached the intersection about a hundred yards out, they were moving at a near-reckless pace, protocol and training thrown to the wind as curiosity took over.
“Keep in line behind me!” Jenkovich instructed as he led the charge, lifting an arm to shield his eyes. The once distant light had blossomed into a blinding radiance, so bright he could barely see where he was going. He had no choice but to rely on his instincts to guide him, and in turn he was using his voice to help guide along the others. “It’s not much further!” he called out again. “Keep to the—”
Without warning, his body was ripped to an abrupt stop, a shallow gasp falling from his lips as he felt a foreign presence push its way into his mind. His mouth was snapped shut before he could shout out a warning, and one by one he was forced to watch as the same fate befell each of the men. Within seconds, the entire team was trapped beside him, unable to move or speak, their bodies bound in place by the same invisible force that’d taken a hold of his own.
What is this!? What’s happening!? he thought, his eyes wide as he searched for the Commander. Englewood was frozen just a few feet to his left, and appeared every bit as surprised as he was. Their eyes met briefly before they were pulled away, the unseen force focusing their collective gaze on the center of the light. There, not more than fifteen feet in front of them, they found the first living people they’d seen all night.
They were cradled together like a scene from some harrowing love story: the slain heroine resting peacefully in the arms of her would-be hero, the two enjoying a final moment together amidst the chaos that surrounded them. Only in this case the chaos was a darkened city and the hero, it appeared, was its darkener. He was on his knees in the center of the light with his back to the soldiers, trembling in obvious pain. Long, thick lacerations ran all the way from his head to his feet, forming jagged valleys in the bare muscle of his back. Streams of blood poured from his wounds, a vibrant red against the pale tone of his flesh, but it was nothing compared to the fiery crimson of his eyes.
Those eyes… They burned like nothing the soldiers had ever seen before, so bright, so intense, as if every ounce of passion the world had ever known had been gathered to a single point just below their surface. Billows of brilliant, red light danced forth from their depths like biting tongues of flame, filling the space beneath his brow with a terrible, crimson glow. The air around him crackled violently with energy, tossing his short, black hair wildly about, and the tattered ruins of the nearby buildings seemed to shudder at his every move.
It was obvious he was the one who’d grabbed them. His presence was everywhere, flowing as freely through the night as the light that surrounded him. The soldiers could hear his ragged breaths echo in their ears, could feel his slowing heart beating through their veins. They could taste the icy clutches of his being as it wove around them endlessly, binding them, controlling them—forcing their minds to his.
In his arms, he held a young woman, pale and lifeless in a simple green dress. Wavy, brown hair fell from her head to her shoulders, framing a pretty face with full lips and a freckled nose. Her body was bent and broken from some unknown trauma, and blood poured into the man’s hands from her wounds. Her flesh had faded a ghostly white, and the fullness of her form had grown gaunt and withered with the touch of death. If she wasn’t gone yet, she would be soon, and this would be all that remained of her.
A wave of emotion spilled over from the man’s mind as he pulled her to his chest, drawing her forehead to his and staring into her empty eyes. His lips quivered as he whispered to her inaudibly, sobbing softly behind a firm expression as he fought to be strong…for her, always for her…
The unspoken words exploded forcefully into the soldiers’ minds, making them cringe with discomfort. The man seemed not to notice. Lifting his head, he continued to whisper, stroking the woman’s hair gently before placing a single, loving kiss upon her brow. Tears slid down his cheeks as his lips formed the final few words. Forgive me…
With a shudder of pain, he turned to lay her down upon the street, the screeching sound of twisted steel and concrete filling the night as unseen hands swept the rubble aside. With an air of familiarity, he lifted his arms above his head, his palms open to the sky as if to embrace the blinding light that swirled around him. Seconds ticked by in silence, ever so still, ever so calm. And then, like the deep breath before the plunge, he began to inhale.
With a sharp snap, his eyes flashed open and the surrounding light burst outwards, showering the city with a dazzling radiance before shrinking back in towards his beckoning hands. Gradually, he began to curl his fingers into fists, unblinking and unwavering as he held his pose, the drawing light burning ever brighter as it obeyed his call. A gashing cut opened just below his left eye and rolled down his face to his chin, spilling more blood to the pavement below. Similar cuts appeared at the bases of his wrists and snaked their way up his arms.
The trembling of his body grew more pronounced with each new wave of pain, and his teeth gritted in focus as he fought to hold it back. A thick layer of sweat coated the flesh between his wounds, framing the running red with a pale, glistening white. His every muscle seemed to clench in anticipation, and finally, with a primal scream, he forced his fists shut, his eyes exploding with crimson fire as the last of the light all but vanished.
The men looked on in shock as the woman’s body lifted into the air, floating up to a point just below the man’s shoulders. With shaking hands, he reached out to touch her, settling his grip on her head and heart. Almost instantly, a glowing light could be seen racing back and forth between them. It crashed like the ocean’s waves—building up in his body before washing out through hers—but it wasn’t the rhythm that had the soldiers fumbling for answers. It was the result.
Somehow, by some miracle beyond their comprehension, the woman’s cuts and bruises had begun to melt away, her bones and joints crunching and grinding as they were set back into place. It was as if the man were healing her wounds somehow, undoing the damage that’d been done before their arrival. But how? And why? What use would it be if she’d already passed on? It’s not like he could bring her back from the dead…
…unless that’s exactly what he’s trying to do, the men thought together, their eyes widening in fear. They watched intently as the light continued to flow back and forth between them, and sure enough it wasn’t long before the woman’s body began to tremble with new life. Her chest rose faintly as the man willed air into her lungs. Her pale skin flushed with color as he forced blood through her veins. Every ounce of light he’d stolen from the city he poured into her, and with a violent shudder, her eyes shot open, blinking wildly in the light as a hurried gasp rushed past her lips.
The feeling was overwhelming.
The soldiers were dropped to their knees by the sudden shift in the man’s emotions, their inner selves swept aside a moment as his presence became their own. With thundering strokes, his heart ignited in their chests, sending wave after wave of warmth and joy rushing through their veins. They’d never felt such passion, such soul-binding bliss, and as he reached out to hold her they could hardly keep his tears from forming in their eyes. He whispered something to her then, something they couldn’t hear, and quietly she stirred in response.
The light surged as she lifted her head, the soft green of her eyes meeting the bitter crimson of his, a lifetime’s worth of memories and moments passing silently between them. The soldiers could only make out bits and pieces—a word spoken here, a kiss shared there—but it was more than enough to make them see how much she meant to him.
All of this was for her somehow, every inch of the fallen city. All of it had been building to this moment. And yet, in the end, that’s all it was—a single, fleeting fraction of time, a brief step outside the unrelenting current of life. As quickly as it’d come, it was swept away, and the connection that’d brought it began to waver and fade with the last of the light.
A troubled smile crossed the woman’s face as she felt it go, and with hurried breaths she struggled to say something. She never got the chance. The moment her mouth opened, the light vanished from the air, and with it went her consciousness, along with the man’s strength.
He collapsed in a heap to the ground beside her, still locked into the beautiful emerald of her eyes, even as they crept shut. He lingered there as long as he could—a look of longing on his face—until the smoldering embers he hid beneath his brow had finally died out as well, severing the bond they’d shared and releasing his hold on the soldiers. Then he, too, let his eyes slide shut.
At long last the spell was broken. The men snapped back to attention.
“He’s gonna die if we don’t get him out of here!” Jenkovich yelled, sprinting forward and sliding up to the man’s body. Damien rushed to check the vitals of the woman. Her skin had a fresh hint of pigmentation to it, but her breathing was labored and her pulse extremely weak.
“This one’s still alive!” he called out. “But she needs some immediate attention if we’re gonna keep it that way!”
“Radio it in, Jenks,” Englewood ordered the Lieutenant, replacing him by the wounded man’s side.
“Mission Control, Mission Control, this is Lieutenant Seth Jenkovich with the New York City advance team, Recon 1, requesting extraction. We’ve got two live civilians, both badly wounded. Need immediate evac at perimeter C with emergency medical response team. Young adult male has several deep lacerations along his body and is bleeding heavily. Young adult female is alive and breathing but her vitals are weak. Dispatch Recon 2 for final perimeter sweep…”
Jenkovich’s voice trailed off as Englewood retreated back within himself, swinging his head from side to side as he surveyed the team. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion, sluggish and silent, like a scene from some dark and distant dream. Protocol, basic military procedures—none of it seemed to matter now. His men wore strained expressions, visibly flustered, trying their best to remain calm and strong under a weight that nothing could’ve prepared them for.
His thoughts flashed back to the glowing eyes, the phantom cuts, and the brilliant light. This wasn’t right; this wasn’t like before. This was something different.
“We’ve gotta move, Tim,” Jenkovich interrupted. “Help me lift him.” The two men pulled the injured man to his feet, supporting his dead weight beneath the arms. He was barely conscious.
“What’s your name, son?” Englewood asked him softly, whispering into his ear. He struggled to try and lift his head to respond.
“My…name?” he choked out weakly. “My name is…” His golden-brown eyes glimmered red for an instant as they rose to meet the Commander’s. “My name is…”
No comments:
Post a Comment