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By: Sherry Ficklin & Tyler Jolley
THIS book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
NO part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
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Copyright ©2015 Tyler H. Jolley and Sherry D. Ficklin
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-63422-208-2
Cover Design by: Mae I Designs
Typography by: Courtney Knight
Editing by: Cynthia Shepp
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Epilogue
EMBER
I don’t feel the needle slide beneath my skin. It’s nothing, not even a whisper compared to the other pain. Above me, some kind of human-machine hybrid presses down on my shoulders, holding me to the gurney. Its face is a mask of brass, tinted glass, and pieces of leather. Tufts of hair poke out from around the top and sides. I want to scream, but I can’t. The pain has me in its grasp, like a hand around my throat, constricting until I have to fight for each breath.
At my left is a man who is, I assume, a doctor. The pocket of his white lab coat is stuffed with syringes, which he keeps plunging into my arm. He pulls out another one, bites the cap off, and spits it aside before stabbing me again. I have to look away. There is only one familiar face in the room. He’s on my right, clenching my uninjured hand in his, murmuring softly and stroking my hair.
“It’s all right. Everything’s going to be okay.”
I writhe. Whatever was in that last needle is burning through my veins. My eyes water, but I can’t move to wipe the tears away. Soon, the pain begins to fade. In the corner of the room, a man speaks. He’s looking at me with distaste.
“And the other one?” the man in the corner asks.
“Gone,” the one holding my hand responds, his eyes never leaving mine. Behind his glasses, his eyes are green. The greenest things I’ve ever seen. I focus on them, using them to clear away the fog inside my mind. He continues to speak, not looking away from me. “It was all I could do to get her out before the whole thing went up in flames.”
“Then we will make do,” the man in the corner says curtly before vanishing into thin air.
I open my mouth to speak, but even with the pain subsiding, no sound escapes.
“Shh,” he coos. “It’s all right. You’re safe now.”
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