Project ELE (28 page)

Something catches my eye. In the corner near the Western cave wall is a grouping of rocks. Why hadn't I noticed it before? I run over to them expecting to see some sort of message written out that tells me what happened to my friends. Instead I find a single arrow made out of small rocks. It points towards the wall. Why would it....They went outside! The epiphany strikes me and my heart soars. They are trying to let me know that they went outside! Excitement overwhelms me as I think of my friends making it out of here alive. I'm going to find them after all!

I have no idea what lies on the other side of this mountain, if it's scalding hot temperatures or unlivable conditions. Not knowing makes me leery but it's not enough to keep me from reaching my friends.

I put my hand up to the wall and slowly start moving through it. The wall feels warm as I make my way through the rock and sediment. Sweat begins to accumulate on my brow. I'm not sure if the temperature is increasing, or if it's my anxiety that causes this stifling condition. Eventually I feel the heat prickling at my fingertips and I let the rest of my body follow.

On the outside, the sun beats down relentlessly and I close my eyes against its blinding light. I haven't seen the light of day in...how long has it been? Weeks, months, years? The first thing I truly notice is the lack of heat. It's hot, don't get me wrong but it is definitely not unbearable. This isn't one hundred and seventy degrees like they predicted with the shields down. It feels more like ninety degrees.

I cup my hands over my eyes and slowly allow them to adjust to the daylight by staring downwards. The bone-dry ground is cracked beneath my feet. The sight of it makes me suddenly thirsty. Soon, I'm able to make out some different bushes and wildflowers scattered about on the surface.

My eyes adjust enough that I am able to finally look up and see at eye level...every hair stands at attention down my arms and legs. My scalp grows cold regardless of the pressing heat. About fifty yards in front of me lay a group of people, at least seventy to a hundred in number. They all wield different weapons: spears, knifes, swords...guns. I swallow hard noticing my throat has tightened up considerably. Their eyes press into mine. The light reflects off these strangers revealing their beady red irises. They stare at me and I at them. No one moves...no one breathes.

In the matter of a split second a war cry calls out. All eyes turn toward the East, including mine as a second group of people descends upon the first. They drop down from the mountain scape above me. Each person holds a different weapon similar to the other group. Someone lands directly in front of me. I catch a glimpse of his eyes before he turns away. They startle me almost as much as the crimson eyes that were looking at me just moments before. Their color is the most vivid yellow I have ever seen. It has a look that is almost radioactive.

A gunshot rings out and I fall to the ground, curling up into a ball. I try and filter out the sounds of the war around me, but the task is impossible. Clanking of metal on metal, gunshots and screams echo off the mountainsides. There's growling and gnashing of teeth as one man falls after another.

Frightened doesn't even begin to describe how I'm feeling. I am utterly helpless as I remain curled up in my ball, with the sun beating down on my back. I feel as if I entered an alternate reality, a different world. I wish to escape but can't bring myself to move.

A body falls to the ground next to me. I feel the persons blood soak into my shirt and I look up in that moment to see yellow, pain filled eyes staring at me. They aren't just any eyes though. Gasping for breath I call her name before she passes out, "Mom!"

To Be Continued...

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First thanks goes to our awesome God and His Son for all of his amazing blessings. A million hugs and kisses to our wonderful supportive family and friends whose love and encouragement make us who we are. A special thank you to all of our fans and book blog sites that have supported our books. You encourage us more than you could ever know. You are why we write! A big thanks to the most amazing book cover designing genius: Marya Heiman from Strong Image Editing. You rock our socks! A million thanks to Mandy Buchanan from LEO editing for making our book sparkle brighter than a vampire in the sun! A huge shout out to all of our fellow Indie authors! There is so much teamwork and support that goes on between fellow authors in the indie community and we are so grateful for it.

"Thank you to my amazing husband Adam, who listened to endless ranting about our new apocalyptic series and who gave me ingeniously creative ideas to implement in the series. A dozen thanks to my kiddos Trinity and Aiden, who put up with my 'cave' time and my endless hogging of the computer. I love y'all more than a trillion dark chocolate Godiva truffles! A paw shake goes out to my not so little puppy Neo for laying by my side on my late night writing sessions. Ps: Thank you Red Bull for my writing wings." ~Rebecca

"Thank you to my hubby Kevin who has supported my work even when I work through the night.  Thank you to my kids: Cameron, Chloe and Kaleb, who are the inspiration for many of the silly scenes in the book.  Thank you for your understanding when I have to write causing us to do our homeschool at night.  You three are the best!  Thank you to my two doggies who keep my feet warm while I write.  Wintertime just wouldn't be the same without you.  And a final thank you to my extended family...my mother and grandparents specifically.  You supported me from day one on this crazy adventure of mine.  You are ALWAYS there when I need you and for that I am truly grateful.  So, it's this book that I dedicate to you.  Thank you for bringing me all the happiness and joy in the world.  I love you both to pieces.  ~Courtney

Rebecca and Courtney are downhome country girls powered by chocolate and other random late night cravings.  Coined in southern twang they bring new meaning to the word y’all.  BFI’s since the 6th grade, with a knack for getting into sticky situations, has resulted in countless ideas to write about for years to come.

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