Redemption (Night Marchers #2) Written by: Rebecca Gober and Courtney Nuckels Read Online Free Page A

wood.
    My eyes struggle to adjust in this dim light,
but soon I see sparks of ember igniting. The cave slowly comes into
focus as a fire begins to burn. Flaming shadows dance on the cave
walls sending an eerie chill down my spine. Tristan feeds the fire
more wood and then comes and takes my hand. Without a word he helps
me up and leads me near the fire.
    The wind whistles loudly outside as the rain
pounds harder and harder against the rocks. Brief flashes of
lightening streak across the sky followed by the deep bellow of
thunder that shakes the ground beneath us. As if my body finally
realizes it’s cold, I begin shivering as Tristan sits me down next
to the fire, my back to the cave wall. Instinctively I reach my
hands out towards the warm heat. I rub my hands together and watch
as they change from a cold purple back to their normal pinkish
color.
    It feels like I will never be able to stop
shivering. I'm unable to warm up in these rain-drenched clothes. My
face hasn’t dried either, and I can’t tell if it’s the tears I
cried or rain falling softly down my cheeks from my hair, or maybe
a little of both. Tristan wraps his arms around me in a comforting
hug. He rubs my arms trying to warm my skin with the friction from
his hands. I'm not sure how I should feel, should I feel anger for
him holding me back from seeing Kai? Or, should I be relieved that
he saved me from a possible nightmare? I don't even know what I
would have done if I had found Kai. I watch the rain fall down in
thick sheets over the cave opening. I feel utterly defeated. I have
no energy to figure out my feelings or what to do, so I let my head
fall into the curve of his neck. We sit there for what seems like
hours. No talking. No moving. Words aren’t needed now, not needed
at all.
    My body may be limp, but my mind is still
running at full speed, trying to sort itself out and make sense of
things. It gives me the dreaded time to think about everything that
has gone on these past few weeks. All of the emotional baggage I
now carry makes the burden all that more difficult to bear. I
inhale deeply trying to regain composure before I completely lose
it. I feel numb, unable to process everything, unable to give it
reason, or understanding. I snuggle deeper into Tristan, yearning
for the comfort he so willingly provides.
    "Six months ago, I lost my best friend.”
Tristan combs his fingers gently through my hair. Through his voice
I can hear old pain that was once buried deep skimming to the
surface. I stare blankly at the fire hoping my silence will
encourage him to continue. I rest my head in his lap as Tristan
leans his back against the wall. Still caressing the strands of my
hair he continues. “We had been friends for as long as I can
remember. We had a knack for running into trouble instead of away.
Not like law trouble, more like we sought out risky adventures each
time daring to do more than the last. One Friday night, with
nothing to do, we met down by the beach with plans to go on a late
night hike. It was a cool night, an eerie moon had risen up in the
distance; I will never forget the way it looked. Deep down I knew
something just wasn’t right, but I couldn’t put a finger on it. The
two of us were experienced hikers and had all of the correct gear
so I just wrote it off as we headed further and further into the
woods. Looking back I wonder if the feeling was a premonition or a
foreshadowing of what was to come that night. I usually check my
flashlight for batteries before leaving on any type of night trip
so I'm not sure what happened that evening. The next thing we knew
we were smack dab in the middle of the woods when the bulb of my
flashlight went out. It was a pitch-black night, like tonight, and
neither of us had any extra batteries or a secondary light source.
It's dangerous to hike at night without light; we would be too
susceptible to injury so we decided it would be best to find a
place to set up tent. We had survival gear on us so