“Mom,” I whispered, even though I knew it wouldn’t do any good. She did not respond, did not even blink. I moved closer to her, shoving aside the papers as I slid onto the bed. I had seen her in this exact same position many times before, but this was the first time I had ever felt out of place and frightened. I touched her cheek lightly, her skin was still warm, but it was cooler than it should have been. That man had still been alive, she had to be also, I hoped. Sadness filled me; I choked on my misery. “Oh mom.”

   I bowed my head to hers, resting it against her bent head. I was trying hard not to lose complete control, not to turn into a sobbing mess, but I wasn’t sure I could keep my sanity through this whole catastrophe. I felt Cade’s presence in the room, sensed his dark gaze focused upon me before I saw him.

   I lifted my head, my hand lingering upon my mother’s cheek as I turned to him. I wanted to take strength in his gaze but I was lost, adrift, and terrified that I had just lost the only parent I had left. “What do we do?” I asked quietly.

   “We survive.” They were cold words, and yet the tone that issued them was not cold. It was sad, understanding, and sympathetic. It was also resilient and unwavering. “Because we have to, because it is what she would wantyou to do.”

   “I can’t leave her here.”

   “I know.” I turned away from him, unable to form words or opinions at the moment. “We won’t. I have to go somewhere right now though.”

   My head snapped around, my mouth dropped. I released my mom’s still hand as I slid limply off the bed and took a step toward him. “Where?” I managed to choke out.

   “I have to go to my house. There are some things I need to do.”

   I was confused by this sudden turn of events. I hadn’t expected him to leave us here, but of course there would be things that he would need to do. Things that he would have to check on, or want. I didn’t know where he lived now, or who he lived with, if anyone. He was most likely on his own now, he was eighteen after all. “Of course.”

   “I’ll be back.” I barely managed a nod. I could only manage to keep breathing through the tightness in my chest. “Soon.”

   “We… we could come with you.”

   He shook his head. “No, I’ll move faster by myself and Aiden could still return. You have to stay here.”

   “But…”

   He broke off my protest. “You have to stay with your mother Bethany, and you have to see if your brother returns. You’ll never forgive yourself if you don’t. My place is only half a mile from here. I’ll be safe in the woods.”

   I was surprised to learn he lived so close. Cade had bounced around so much over the years that it had been hard to keep track of where he was living at any given time. “What if you don’t come back?” I whispered. “What if something happens to you and I could have helped to stop it? Abby can wait for Aiden.” Even as I said the words I knew that Abby wouldn’t want to be alone here anymore, and I couldn’t leave her again.

   “There are more of those things out there than there is of us now Bethany. Their technology is better, they planned this, and they have the upper hand. I don’t think there’s anything either of us could do to stop them right now. Besides, you don’t want to leave your sister again.”

   “You’re not safe out there Cade, you can’t go alone.”

   He was before me now, having moved steadily closer throughout the conversation. I had to tilt my head back to take all of him in. His eyes and hair blended in with the night, giving the eerie impression that he was a part of the darkness that he relished in it, and was far more at home in it than any other person would be. His handsome features were half hidden in shadow, his full mouth pinched tight. I was breathless as he reached out to push the hair gently back from my shoulders. His fingers stroked lightly over my cheek, leaving a trail of heat in their wake as he lingered upon my skin. My mouth parted slightly in wonder, my face tilted instinctively into his soft caress. I didn’t know what was going on, what he intended, until his mouth was against mine.

   And then, I just didn’t care anymore.

   In the beginning his lips were warm, soft yet firm, as they pressed lightly against mine. And then his mouth was more demanding, and his hand was harder upon me as he pulled me closer to him. I was caught up in the warmth and pleasure of his kiss, ensnared within the whirlwind of emotions and desire that sprang forth. I was engulfed by the tempest his exquisite, desperate kiss created.

   I didn’t know what he was desperate for, but I sensed the full force of that desperation beneath the rolling wonder, joy, and passion that swirled rapidly between us, escalating higher and higher until I was certain that it was going to consume us both. I found I didn’t care if it did. I only wanted to ease the intense need I sensed simmering so fiercely beneath his calm facade.

   Why he would need or want me, I didn’t know and I didn’t care. Not right now. I was too entangled in the wonderful sensations encompassing me to care. He pressed tighter against me. His arm encircled my waist as he lifted me against him, holding me firm. I was lost, adrift in him. I had never felt like this before, never experienced something so fantastic, and joyous, and right. And it was so very right; it was as if everything in the world, no matter how awful and horrible it was, would be ok. I had found a place to belong, a place of safety within his arms. As long as I was here, and he was here, I would survive. Wewould survive.

   Then something else began to happen. Something within my mind began to unravel, opening slowly before me like a morning glory to the light of daybreak. Memories spilled forth, engulfing me as they spiraled rapidly beyond my control. Memories that I had long ago buried because that was where I preferred them. Memories of that horribleday. A day that, until this one, I had never thought could be topped as far as fear and devastation went.

   I had been trapped, upside down, pinned by the twisted metal of the car. Stuck within the backseat I could do nothing more than stare at the broken body of my father in front of me. In the beginning he had been awake, he had asked about me, he had worried about me, but as time dragged on, and more blood was lost, he’d grown silent.

   It had been awful, horrendous. So awful in fact that I had been too numb to cry, too engulfed by misery to fully understand what was going on. I was only nine, the most I knew of death was the small ceremonies we’d held to bury our pets in the backyard. I didn’t know much of death, but I knew the exact moment when my father left me. I knew the man I loved more than anything was not coming back to me, and I still did not cry. I had been trapped within that wreck for hours, unable to break free no matter how hard I tried before they found us.

   It had taking another hour for the rescuers to free me from the car. For that hour they had draped a sheet over my father, not to protect me from seeing him, it was too late for that. They had done it because they were unable to handle the sight of his ruined body, especially in front of his oddly silent, eerily calm, and somewhat unnerving young daughter.

   I didn’t cry that day, or the three that followed it. I didn’t speak either. I did not talk about what I had seen, what it had been like to be imprisoned, unable to break free, while I listened to the sound of my father’s blood dripping against the roof. I did not talk about the fact that his small moans of agony, moans that he had tried to stifle from me, haunted my every moment. I did not mention the awful silence and agony that had engulfed me when those moans had stopped. I was left with only the endlessly dripping blood, and the horrifying realization that my father was gone. I had been unable to tell him that I loved him just once more before he left me. I told no one about any of it, not even my mother, who even through her own grief and anguish was more concerned about my wellbeing, than her own.