And, in a heartbeat, they faded, taking the vision with them.
Something wet smacked my face, a piercing sound invaded, sharp, whining. I wrenched my eyes open as the ground shuddered. Timber pews rocked forwards and then backwards. Bits of white plaster rained down from above.
I lifted my head, catching the fine white dust as a crack savaged the roof above. Pitt moved closer, pink tongue sneaking out, lapping my cheek as she whined.
“Okay, I’m okay.”
I leaned over and shoved myself up from the floor. Time had slipped away, leaving me groggy and weak. How long had I been there? How long had the vision lasted? I looked at the open leather-bound book as a crack ripped through the building.
I turned inward, to that low hum and felt nothing.
Not a Calling—not anything. Only silence and emptiness. I reached down, and grasped the Bible. “Come on, girl.”
Movement snagged my focus, and a savage growl echoed from Pitt at my side. A woman raced through the open doorway, hands outstretched, pushing against the rocking pews as she stumbled. She lifted her head, eyes widening as she saw me. Her stare found the gun at my side, and then my companion.
“Easy,” she yelled and raised a hand. “I’m not here to hurt you.”
A chunk of ceiling dropped inches from where she stood. She jumped backwards, threw one panicked glance to the ceiling, and then she settled on me. “If we don’t move now, we’re going to be buried in this church for good.”
5
Don’t trust her. Don’t you dare fucking trust her.
I glanced at the doorway, and then raised the gun.
I’d seen women like her used as bait. They were the ones who led you outside where The Mighty were waiting with their chains and lust.
Don’t trust. The words were ingrained.
The rumble came again, shuddering the ground and rocking the pews.
“I’m not with The Mighty, or with the Lost Boys,” she growled, taking a panicked glance behind her. “I’ve got somewhere safe we can go. But first…” she glanced at the gun. “You need to lower that thing and take your finger off the trigger.” Her brown eyes widened, thick curly hair bouncing as she gave a slow nod.
I eased my finger over the trigger guard and lowered the muzzle. She heaved a pack higher on her shoulders and took a step as the first pew toppled. Plaster crashed, falling beside me. Pitt growled, barked, white teeth snapping as the white dust settled.
“Gotta get out of here,” the stranger took a step and lifted a finger, pointing to the thin door behind the stage. “Through there.”
Cracks raced along the wall, until perfect glass shattered. I took a step, as the ground howled and roared. The woman was fast, leading the charge with wide awkward steps as she raced for the stairs, straight toward me.
The handle of a machete stuck out from the top of her pack, easy to grip, easy to use. I glanced behind us, to the open front door. Was she alone? Could be a trap…
Don’t trust her, Harlow. Don’t trust anyone. But you gotta get out of here, or this place will come down with you in it.
Pitt sniffed the air, gave a short whine, and limped forward, drawn by the urgency this stranger left behind. I took a step as the cracks in the walls widened.
I gripped the leather-bound book, took one last look at this sanctuary, and followed my four-legged friend through the hallway to the kitchen, and then out a door.
The sun peeked through the yellow clouds, burning my eyes. I yanked the Bible high and covered my face.
“Through here, gotta be fast, okay?”
The stranger screamed at me as the ground trembled and growled beneath our feet. I did this. The thought hit me as the concrete gaped. A roar filled the air, the four-story building to the right shuddered, glass shattering.
The world crumbled, collapsing, as the building fell. Hands gripped me, pulling, pushing as I stared at the devastation. “We gotta go now!”
My steps were a blur as I followed blindly. I didn’t trust, didn’t follow. I didn’t put my faith in anyone but this woman…and Him.
Then you’ve already lost. Those words resounded as I stumbled through the shattered brick wall to the street behind. I did this…
The stranger turned toward me. Her lips moved but I didn’t hear the sounds—I didn’t hear anything but the dark thunder in my head…you’ve already lost.
Her brow furrowed, lips curled, revealing the shine of her teeth. She lunged forward, grabbed the sleeve of my jacket and yanked. I didn’t know where we were headed and followed blindly until my feet found rhythm and the quake stilled.
“It can come back…aftershocks,” she glanced over her shoulder to yell. “Not much further.”
We ran through the streets, not watching for The Mighty, not caring if anyone saw us at all. It wasn’t right, none of this was right. Three years I’d spend hiding. Three years I’d slipped out only to find my dealer amongst the silent underground trains.
And for three years I stayed alive. I stayed fed, and had water. I was safe, as safe as this world allowed. I wasn’t reckless, wasn’t crazy. I was confined…and alone…don’t forget that, don’t forget alone.
My legs pumped, boots smacked the ground. Pitt lunged and limped, finding momentum with an awkward gait. I had someone now, someone to take care of, and someone to take care of me.
The vibration raced, warmth seeped into my belly and spread out. The Calling raged, filling me with fuel and fire. I gripped the leather in my hand, and the gun in the other, and followed.
Purpose filled me. The hum trembled my bones and quaked my muscles. It led me to the church…to this strange woman with her machete and lack of fear.
I sucked in the bitter air as the gigantic red brick building loomed in the distance. The hospital…as we raced toward the hospital. A cramp ripped down my side, pinching something between my ribs, before we finally slowed.
I licked arid lips, and tried to speak. The words were nothing more than a hiss as I watched her lean over, hands braced on knees, and gulp the air. Sweat gleamed on her forehead as she raised her head. “Almost there…come on.”
The ground gave one last shudder before it fell still. The stranger stood, sucked in a hard breath, and pushed toward a set of automatic doors. I looked around. The main entrance to the hospital was on the other street. I remembered from before. Mom brought me here after I hurt my wrist playing softball at school.
But this wasn’t the main entrance. I glanced at the faded brass plaque that stated Davison Laboratories, and followed.