Haven: Revenge of the Viper by D.C. Akers Read Free Book Online Page A

by flinging himself back down on the floor and as he did the ball flew back to the right of the garage and slammed into the wall again.
    Travis watched intently, his eyes scrutinizing every move Sam made. He didn’t notice it at first because he assumed the ball was trying to attack Sam. All his attention had been focused on the flying ball. But now that he was watching Sam he could tell the ball wasn’t trying to attack him—it was following him. The ball was reacting to Sam’s movements. Sam was controlling the ball!
    “Sam!” Travis yelled out. “I think the ball is following you!”
    “What? What do you mean?” Sam asked.
    “It’s following you! Maybe your hands, I’m just not sure which one!”
    Sam moved his left hand but nothing happened. The ball stayed still, spinning on the wall.
    “Sam, try your right hand!” Travis said, crouching down into the corner.
    Sam swung his right hand around to the back of the garage and the ball followed, shooting through the air until it hit the back wall of the garage.
    Sam’s mind was racing. If he could control it, surely he could stop it.
    He slowly moved his hand in front of him, as if to guide the ball into the center of the garage. The spinning baseball followed. It was now hovering just a few feet in front of him.
    Sam stared at the baseball, trying to concentrate; maybe it was as simple as saying stop, he thought.
    “STOP!” he yelled out.
    But nothing happened. The ball continued to spin.
    “Um, now what?” Travis said hastily.
    “I’m not sure!” Sam replied.
    “Try something else, like halt or land!”
    Sam thought of the letter. If the word Narravista made this happen, maybe it will make it stop too.
    “Narravista!” Sam yelled out.
    The ball abruptly stopped spinning and fell to the ground.
    “That’s it, you did it!” Travis cried out.
    He sprang up, ran to Sam’s side and carefully helped to remove the wooden beam and bikes that had fallen on top of Sam. Sam moaned as he staggered to his feet.
    “Are you okay?” Travis asked.
    Sam brushed himself off and surveyed the damage around him. The garage had two gaping holes in the roof and splintered wood on both sides of the walls. The lawn chair, the bikes, and all the boxes he had packed and stacked earlier were destroyed.
    “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay,” he said grudgingly, “but my mom’s going to kill me!”
    “Sam, what happened? I mean, you were controlling that baseball, you were making it fly! It was like you were using—” Travis voice stopped abruptly. He didn’t want to say it; the word scared him now, but what else could it be?
    “Magic,” Sam said calmly.
    He saw the look on Travis face; it was that same look he’d had back in the cave. The look of anxiety and bewilderment all rolled into one.
    “Yeah, magic,” Travis said reluctantly.
    Sam could tell it was the last word he wanted to use, but what else could you call it? He needed to make sense of this, he had to or he was going to lose his mind.
    “I think it has to do something with the box I found in the wall.”
    “In the wall? What box? Where?” Travis asked. Now he was curious.
    Sam pointed to the back of the garage at the box next to the open panel in the wall.
    “How did that get there?” Travis asked.
    “I think it’s my mom’s,” he said.
    Travis turned around, his eyes wide and his mouth half open in disbelief. “Your mom’s?”
    “Yeah, in the box there was a letter addressed to her from someone named Holly.”
    “Who’s Holly?”
    “Well, if I knew that I wouldn’t have said ‘someone named Holly,’” Sam said sharply.
    “Oh, yeah, right,” Travis said as he walked toward the box. “Is it safe to pick it up?”
    “Yeah, I think so. I don’t think the box did anything. I think it’s more what the letter says that makes things happen.”
    “What do you mean?” Travis asked.
    “Read the letter,” Sam said pointing to the box.
    Travis bent down and grabbed the letter and began to read