Early August, three months later
It was a perfect summer afternoon. Daley was hosting a picnic at his summer home in the Pennsylvanian mountains. Easily a hundred people were on the lawn, FBI members and their families, munching on hot dogs and burgers, playing volleyball, and swimming in the lake.
Michael waded out of the water, carrying Danny on his back and they jogged over to their parents.
Gary and Maddy were both lying on a blanket on the beach, basking in the rays.
“Did you see me do a back flip off the dock, Mommy?” Danny signed excitedly. Michael had just taught him how to do this, and he couldn’t get enough of it.
“I saw you, sweetheart,” she signed. “Just be careful, okay?”
“Oh, Mom,” Michael said. “What’re you worried about? You know he can’t get hurt. Don’t you see the twenty birds that gently push him away from the side every time he gets too close? Everyone should have twenty guardian angel’s surrounding them.”
Both Gary and Maddy had required extensive surgery after their ordeal and after weeks of recuperation, they were released from the hospital.
The government had cleared Michael of all murder charges and the Andersons of any espionage charges and rented the family a house in a new town where they wouldn’t be as easily recognized. By the second week of July, both Gary and Maddy were working in the lab part-time, but now their research was public. That is, the research on light therapy for seniors.
Maddy started laughing. “Twenty guardian angels, huh? Well, I still believe it’s a good thing we’re the only ones who know what they really are. I don’t think the world is ready to know the truth yet.”
Gary placed a comforting hand on his wife’s shoulder. “But they will be soon, hon.”
They turned to watch Danny. He had moved to sit with a lone seagull at the edge of the water.
“Send him on his way, Danny,” Michael whispered. He watched his brother close his eyes. The seagull’s body slowly rose and flew into the sky.
The three of them smiled, staring at the image which soared higher and higher until it finally disappeared.
“Look at him, Mom. Isn’t he wonderful?” Michael watched his brother laughing and waving at the soul drifting up into the clouds.
Flying to the light.
About the Author
Elyse Salpeter loves “mixing the real with the fantastic” in her novels. She is the author of several other works, including a YA dark fantasy series, THE WORLD OF KAROV and THE RUBY AMULET. She is also the author of a new adult thriller series. Book #1 is called, THE HUNT FOR XANADU.
When she isn’t writing, she’s eating crazy foods in her gastronaut club, chasing after her twins and crazy ferret, and all summer long you’ll see her working to get weeds out of her garden. By the end of the summer, they’ve usually won the battle.
Excerpt of Book #2 in the FLYING series
Click here: http://www.amazon.com/Flying-Fire-Book-2-ebook/dp/B00MDKZAG4/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1409402671&sr=8-1&keywords=flying+to+the+fire
FLYING TO THE FIRE
“One sees up, and the other sees down…”
Prologue
Seven and a half years ago, in a seaside villa off the coast of California…
The sound of the monitor whispered and hissed as the man slipped into the bedroom. The startled nurse rose from her chair and left. She was careful not to look him in the eye.
When he was sure he was alone, the man turned to the patient in the hospital bed and moved to her side. Now that he was closer, he could hear the sharp intake of her breath and see the way her chest rose and fell with each ragged breath. This wasn’t supposed to happen to her. Not to his Marta.
She had once been so beautiful. Thick blond hair had brushed past her shoulders in soft curls and she had a regal, aquiline profile. She had reminded him of a queen who was supposed to stand by his side and rule the world with him. Now most of her hair had fallen out and her features were pinched with pain.
Marta slowly opened her eyes, those blue gems that most people thought were cold, but to him were fountains of pure, unadulterated beauty. “Samuel,” she whispered.
He placed his hand on her forehead. Her skin was so brittle, his simple touch bruised her, and she winced. He quickly pulled his hand away. “I’m not going to let you go, Marta. That’s unacceptable to me and I won’t tolerate it.”
She gave him a pitiful expression. “You have no choice. It’s a wonder I’ve lasted this long. We both know that.”
Samuel tried not to think about the accident. How one of his lab technicians had carelessly mixed up a quarantined experimental disease with a simple compound and brought it into the general lab where his wife had been working.
The moment the imbecile had uncorked it, Marta realized from the smell what had been released. She immediately put the facility on lockdown, even while the disease began to attack her vital organs. Emergency protocols were activated and the staff evacuated behind sealed doors. Only Samuel chose to break protocol and equipped with the finest bio-hazard suit, had gone in to get Marta and bring her out, leaving his lab tech to die a torturous death on the floor of the lab room.
His team of scientists and doctors worked feverishly to wipe out the effects of the disease on her system. Within days, the infection had run its course, but the damage to her body had been done. Her organs were permanently weakened and there was nothing any of them could do about it.
Or was there?
“Marta, I won’t let death separate us.”
“You speak in riddles, Samuel. Since when is death not the end?”
“I have a way to bring you back to me and it’s based on the Anderson’s theories. Let me tell you my idea.” He leaned towards his wife’s ear and whispered what he planned to do. Over and over again, day in and day out, so that when she finally left this earth, the knowledge would remain in her subconscious. For he believed that death was not the final resting place and that her very soul and consciousness would still be alive. Somewhere.
He had to find the younger Anderson boy. The child knew about the afterlife and Herrington was determined to extract every single piece of information he could from him. His men were already on the hunt and it would only be a matter of time before he would learn what he needed to bring his wife back to this world.
#
But that never happened. A week later he was caught by the FBI, the boy had gotten away, Marta died in a secret facility out east, and he was incarcerated for a lifetime sentence in prison. His plans had failed.
Or had they?
Chapter One
Seven and a half years later, in upstate New York…
It was the best thirteenth birthday present ever. The new bike was awesome. Much more awesome than the old one with the beat up handlebars, chipped green paint, and ripped nylon seat. Danny pumped the pedals harder, feeling the gravel crunch under his feet. Michael had told him the sound resembled paper crumpling.
He’d have to take his word for it.
He’d had the bike for nearly six months, and he still marveled at how it performed, as if it had been designed especially for him. Gripping the handlebars, he jumped the curve and veered the bike onto the dirt path and into the woods. His calves burned as he raced through the fallen leaves. Wayward branches scratched at his cheeks, but he didn’t care. He loved the feel of zooming through the forest and the freedom he felt when he was going so fast it was hard to breathe. Mostly, he loved the way it made him forget about things, like the nightmares he’d been having nearly every night--the one with the dark black twister that tried to suck the life out of him.
He shook his head to clear it and pumped harder, streaking through the path. He was glad his dad had put off-road tires on this one. He could feel the difference.
It was unseasonably chilly for late October, and his breath steamed in the air in front of him like a plume of smoke. Danny veered around a turn in the bend and was about to rush out of the woods and through Ma
gnolia Fields when the air rippled in front of him and a huge black apparition like a tumultuous storm cloud appeared in his path.
With a yelp, he gripped the brakes on the handlebars too fast and flipped forwards headlong into and through the malignant mist, falling hard on the ground. His head crashed into a dead log. Thank God he had his helmet on. For a moment, stars covered his vision. The smell of decayed animals and rotted food overcame him, and he gagged violently. Sitting up, he felt a bitter coldness seep deep into his body. He gripped himself tight as the darkness closed in like a fog. He began to shiver and his fingers turned blue. Danny fell back to the ground and tried to catch his breath.
Little chunks flew out of the mass and hit his face. He realized they were bits and pieces of bugs and worms, some squirming onto his cheeks and others falling onto his arms and body. He started to fight, punching at the presence, but it was as if he were smacking against air. The pressure of this manifestation continued to get stronger and it physically pushed him to the earth as it forced its power against him. He could feel its energy and the way it was charging. Charging? That was impossible.
Danny’s chest tightened as the mass pressed against it, crushing him bit by bit. He opened his mouth wide and screamed, hoping someone would hear him. With one last desperate attempt, he pulled into himself, felt the familiar electric push in his head and sent his thoughts upwards and out of his body. As he was about to black out from lack of air, he stared at the sky and that’s when he finally saw them. They had heard his call and soared towards him. With a relief so profound, he knew he wasn’t alone, and that they would help him. In a fury of wings, a throng of birds descended and threw themselves into the black mass.
The mass released Danny to fight the birds and with the pressure gone, Danny turned over and wheezed and coughed violently. He tried to rise, but a wind picked up and threw him back to the ground again. The black mass spun and twisted itself into a spinning, whirling funnel. Danny was sucked into it as if he were in the path of a tornado. It dragged and whipped him through the dirt, his body flipping and turning in the brush until he was thrown against a small pine tree. He grabbed desperately at the low lying branches, ignoring the tears in his skin and the strain in his arms as the mass fought the birds, who again and again were flung out of the funnel, only to keep thrusting themselves back in.
A hummingbird was hurled at his feet. Its neck was broken and Danny tried to reach out to save it, but it was sucked back into the void of blackness, only to get thrown back to the ground repeatedly. Just before Danny thought he couldn’t hold on any longer, the charges in the air changed and the mass retracted into itself and sucked back into the earth. In a heap of wings, the multitude of birds fell to the ground in thuds so hard, he could feel it in his chest.
With a sob, Danny crawled to them, touching each, one by one. Backs and wings broken, their necks twisted, he finally found one alive, laying within a mass of crushed insects. He cradled the quivering cardinal in his palms. Leaning down and whispering to it, the bird opened one of its black eyes, and stilled. A white light shot out of Danny’s fingers and a shadow raced from his hands to the sky, disappearing into the clouds.
Danny turned to the other birds and, sniffling, gathered them together. He glanced into the woods, seeing shadows floating and bobbing in the trees. He shook his head sadly, knowing there was nothing he could do to help any of them. Placing the fallen birds in a pile, he covered them with a makeshift grave of dirt and leaves and said a little prayer. Looking at the woods, tears in his eyes, he nodded to the forlorn shapes and watched as they disappeared within the woods.
With an effort, Danny pulled up his battered, shaking body and grabbed his bike. He walked it out of the woods and into the field. Halfway through, he turned and saw the black hulking mass had returned, now teetering at the edge of the trees. It appeared to be watching him and it was pulsating. Danny could feel the hairs on his arms stand up and could feel the energy of the beast as it was charging. How was it doing that? But then the mass collapsed into itself, oozing and spreading out like black oil, and with a ripple, sucked itself again into the ground.
Danny stood there trembling. He felt something wet tickle his cheek. He grabbed it with his hand, glanced at it and threw it to the ground.
It was a bloody, wiggling brown slug. He wiped his face with his shirt and saw a coat of slime covering his sleeve. With a shudder, he jumped onto his bike and hurried home.
The thing from his dream was no longer imaginary. The black mass was here and it was real.
And there was nothing he could do about it.
If you would like to read more, feel free to purchase FLYING TO THE FIRE here on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Flying-Fire-Book-2-ebook/dp/B00MDKZAG4/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1409402671&sr=8-1&keywords=flying+to+the+fire
If you’d like to learn more about Elyse and her writing, please visit her at the following sites:
www.elysesalpeter.com
www.facebook.com/elysesalpeterauthor
www.twitter.com/elysesalpeter
www.elysesalpeter.wordpress.com
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