Rise From the Ashes: Lena's Story by Laura Franklin Read Free Book Online Page A

all. So he sort of lived through Marc. It seemed to work for him. Bob guessed he must have gotten tied up with these two because he registered late and ended up rooming with Marc. Friends by default. What a mess.
     
    His attention snapped back to the present as they heard a board creak from upstairs.
     
    “Shhh” hissed Marc. He was pulling his gun out!
     
    “Man, someone’s here, let’s just get out,” Bob hissed back.
     
    “Who…whose down there?”
     
    It was obviously an old lady. Bob relaxed and started to walk toward the door. He was yanked back by his shirt collar. Marc leaned in, glaring at him. “No one said it was time to leave yet.”
     
    Then Bob was looking down at a black head of hair as Marc marched further into the house and walked right toward the stairs. It was surreal. At the top of the stairs, in strips of light and shadow was a thin old lady with her grey/white hair floating like fuzz around her face.
     
    She was staring down at Marc.
     
    Marc lifted the gun up straight at her and held it for a while; he held it there to make sure she saw it. So she knew what was coming. Make sure she was terrified before he pulled the trigger. Her body thumped down the stairs, landing right at Marc’s feet, he never even moved back. He looked down at her and laughed.
     
    “Now that’s what we do when some old fuck gets in our way!”
     
    He stepped right over her to see what he could take from upstairs. That started it. Marc gave in to his sadistic appetite in full force. He wasn’t looking for gold anymore. He was hunting out anyone who was left alive. By the sixth or seventh murder, with Bob telling him how it wasn’t necessary at each killing, it was Bob that was strung up, hung by his ankles and dangling head down in the village green. There were some lovely old trees shading the middle of the village where they held outdoor concerts and markets and arts festivals. Now Marc was decorating it with living, dying, ornaments.
     
    As he left Bob dangling and bleeding from a bullet hole to the stomach, he called back to one of his only friends, “How safe do you feel now, buddy?”
     
    Laughter faded into the distance as Bob lost consciousness.
     
     

Chapter Six
     
     
     
    Father Steve Polus had kept his small group of 17 on the move for over a week. They left Rhode Island following the evacuation plans announced over the radio and TV when they had been working; staying ahead of any possible Taliban gangs that may have landed on the coast, set on pure murder. But things had changed in the Father’s mind as time had passed, each night he had the very same dream and each morning it did not fade away as normal dreams did.
     
    A big lake, sparkling in the sun. The far shore was a haze in the light, with mountains rising very close to the shore. The lake was so large that sometimes in the dream he couldn’t tell if the clouds were the mountains. Steve was always standing on the east side of the lake. Always near a bonfire on the pebbly beach. Always surrounded by young people talking, laughing and moving around. They were not the people he was leading now. He could even smell food cooking over the bonfire. It was so real. It was so peaceful. The setting sun was sending out bright orange and pink streaks in the sky. He always woke up smiling.
     
    Was it a trick?
     
    How could the devil give him such feelings of peace if it was a trick?
     
    Was he fighting a vision from God?
     
    Steve was in agony not knowing what choice to make. Since he had not made a conscious decision, he now realized he was leading his group straight north, straying from the path the authorities had given out over the radio. He felt like he was a homing pigeon. He had no doubt that he was heading directly to this lake, to these strangers. He had prayed over their final destination, but received nothing in response except the dreams. Steve realized he was exhausting himself with mental torture and there were times when he