They all stared at her, as if all getting ready to pounce on her at once.

“Hey foxy lady!” one yelled out.

“Hey she’s mine!” one yelled out.

“No she’s not. She’s mine!” another yelled.

“I’m taking you into my cell, and you’re never coming out!” another yelled.

They also began to close in on her, and Sarah do not hesitate: she released her wings and flew high up into the air, hovering above them all, higher and higher, dozens of feet, floating in the air. She looked around at all the cells, looking for any sign of her brother anywhere.

“MARK!” she shrieked.

The prisoners all looked up at her, eyes opened wide in amazement, clearly never having seen anything like this before. Sarah tried to ignore them as she scanned the huge room, looking to see if there was any cell door shut. She looked left to right, and all the doors were open, all the prisoners milling about.

But then, in the far corner, she saw one cell door, closed shut. She saw a prisoner lying in the bed, under the covers, unmoving. The only one. And she sensed, with all her might, that it was her brother in there.

“Mark!” she shrieked.

Sarah flew through the air, racing right for him, and soon landed on the upper balcony of the prison hall.

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She reached over, grabbed the black iron bars, and tore them off their hinges. There came a sickening sound of metal on metal as it opened.

Sarah heard screaming beside her, and saw the entire population now upstairs, racing towards the cell, wanting to grab her.

“Get her!” one yelled.

“She’s a witch!” yelled another.

Sarah did not wait. She turned and hurled the iron bars at them, knocking out dozens of prisoners, sending them collapsing down to the ground.

Sarah rushed into Mark’s cell, and, shaking, she threw back the blanket, praying it was her brother in there.

“Mark!” she cried out.

She turned the body over, and her heart raced with relief to see that it was indeed him, her brother. He lay there, very pale, ice cold to the touch, and she wondered what happened to him.

Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, and she cried out in relief.

“Sis?” he asked.

The sound of the prisoners was getting louder, and Sarah wasted no time. She leaned over, grabbed Mark, slung him over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and turned and raced out of his cell.

All the prisoners were closing in now, from both directions.

Right before they could reach her, Sarah leapt over the railing, and then released her wings. They floated softly down to the floor, a hundred feet below.

Sara looked and saw more prisoners stood by the door, blocked their way out. She had no choice but to confront them.

Sarah let out a great cry, charged forward, leapt into the air, and kicked one after another prisoner, creating a domino effect, all the way to the main cell door. She elbowed and kicked and punched, creating a passage, knocking out one prisoner after another.

Finally, she reached the main door, and burst outside.

Waiting to greet them were dozens of correctional officers, racing down the hall.

“Hang on!” Sarah screamed, realizing there was no way out but through.

Sarah lowered her head, and covered Mark’s face with her arms, and flew, head first, like a bullet, right into the guards. She barreled right through them.

Finally, she burst out the prison corridors, and back into the night.

As Sarah felt the cool night air, she released her wings further and flew higher and higher, gaining speed, away from this place.

Shots rang out, and she could feel bullets whizzing past her. They missed by inches.

They had made it. They were free.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Rachel walked and walked in the black of night, beneath the light of the full moon, through the swamps of Louisiana. All around her, animals screeched out into the night, their cries punctuating the moonlight air. She was terrified. Her legs were aching, her feet were tired from all the walking. She had been marching for hours—it felt like days—ever since she’d left her grandma’s house, on this desperate mission to find the graveyard and mausoleum of her ancestors.

Rachel’s grandmother had told her the graveyard was well-hidden, had given her an ancient map to its location, and she had been following it, rolled up in this old scroll, trying to find her way through the unmarked back swamps of Louisiana.

But now, she was exhausted. There was no sign of a cemetery anywhere in sight, and she was starting to wonder whether it even existed. Who were her ancestors anyway? And what did this all have to do with her?

As Rachel walked, she wondered once again what all these feelings were that had been coursing through her. She felt as if she could not remember a big part of herself—and yet she had been seeing flashes of it coming back to her in pieces. She could see a face, hear a name in her head.

Benji.

It kept repeating in her mind, over and over. She could see his face, yet she did not quite understand who he was.

Also ringing through her head was another name: Rob. She saw his face, too—a very different face. But again, she did not understand who he was. She did not know why she kept thinking of him. Other names ran through her mind too: Sarah, Mark, Violet, Hunter, Penelope, and she knew she knew all these people somehow, but she could not really remember. Slowly, it was as if she was piecing together the fragments of her life.

Rachel felt there was some major piece of her own identity missing. As if she was not only Rachel, but also someone else. Someone bigger, stronger, ancient, powerful. Someone mysterious. She did not understand who or what. Was this all just a fantasy?

Rachel walked and walked, so confused, feeling waves of heat rush over her, as she could start to see flashes of things, things that made no sense. She saw herself flying through the air with Benji. She did not understand. It was like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, like flashes of a life she once knew, coming back to her. They were invading her mind, forcing her to pay attention. She still did not understand why. Was she losing her mind?

Suddenly, there came a snarl. Rachel screamed and jumped, and she saw an alligator, charging, jumping from the waters, and charging right for her, its jaws wide open. It came faster than she could imagine, the moonlight glistening off its scales, and as it lunged for her, its jaws open to snap off her leg, she found her reflexes kicking in.

She leapt into the air, fifteen feet high, then hovered there, amazed at what she’d been able to do. She hung in the air, over the alligator, and as she looked down, she could see the whole world in slow-motion. She saw the jaws of the alligator, opening slowly, saw herself, frozen in the air, and felt an incredible amount of control. She didn’t understand what was going on. Who was she?




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