Embers (The Wings of War Book 1) by Karen Ann Hopkins Read Free Book Online Page A

gate.  There were several orange and black “No Trespassing” and “Do Not Enter” signs on it, and a hand-sized shiny metal lock that would definitely keep anyone from easily entering.  Beyond the large doorway, I could just make out what appeared to be the top of a lookout tower.  I couldn’t see anyone on it, but it was hard to tell with the trees.  As we passed by the wooden entrance, my heart began pounding all over again and this time my forehead became slick with sweat. 
    “Whoever lives in there must really like their privacy,” I muttered to myself.                
    My eyes kept drifting to the odometer, and after I’d covered almost a mile distance, the wooden wall finally ended.  My vital signs began to return to normal as the dust the truck was kicking up obscured the wall and it disappeared from sight.    Air flowed smoothly back into my lungs and the hair on my arms settled once again.  I wiped away the moisture from my face with a napkin, glad to have the wall behind me, but at the same time wondering why I’d reacted so strongly to it in the first place.
    The late afternoon sun was intense, sending sunbeams through the leaves that dappled the pitted road, making the world seem happy again.  But I didn’t forget how the world had darkened beside the strange wall, the air becoming thick and still, and how quiet that stretch had been.  The birds didn’t even want to sing there. 
    Was I just flustered over my escape from home?  Perhaps my imagination was on overdrive?  Or was there really something to be feared living behind those thick, menacing boards?
    I drove on for another ten minutes, pressing the gas pedal harder than I probably should have, before finally reaching the two massive white trunked Sycamore trees that Aunt Ila had described as leading to her property.  Despite their hulking size, their branches were long and delicate and they reached over the road to intertwine with each other.  Beyond the twin trees, rustic looking rock walls stretched along both sides of the road.  Even though the walls were broken in places, they were still impressive. The gaps were filled by smaller trees that had grown through the openings, and ivy scrambled over the rocks intermittently.      
    For a short distance, the trees were incredibly thick, seeming to be wrestling one another for a spot along the driveway.  The oppressive darkness beneath the leafy canopy made me feel more than a little claustrophobic, but just as quickly as the tangle of nature began, the trees thinned and the shade lifted to expose a sunny, beautiful green valley.  The rock walls continued, but now on the right was a field of grass, peppered with cheerful white daisies.  On the left, the trees were older and there was a lot more space between them.   And to my amazement there was a group of deer lightly stepping between the massive trunks.  They paused to glance my way as I drove by, and then returned to their meandering, ignoring the truck and trailer all together. 
    The sudden glare of a silver tin roof blinded me and I had to shield my eyes with my hand in order to see again.  The boards on the barn were old, but gave the impression of a solid and cozy structure for animals.  The rock wall went right up to the barn, and grazing not too far away was a small herd of dairy goats.  I quickly counted fourteen and they all stopped their munching to stare as we passed by.  A few of them greeted us with hearty bleats and Angus stretched out the open window to return their curious looks with a bark, “Hello.”         
    There were tan and red chickens pecking the ground in the barnyard and several rabbits hopping around in the grass among them.  It was an unusual sight.  Some of the rabbits were obviously domestic types with spotted fur and long, floppy ears, while others were ordinary wild rabbits. 
    I quickly forgot about the strange mixture of rabbits though when I saw the