Chapter 2

"Get out!" Enoch roared. He grabbed Clare by the collar of her shirt and dragged her up the wooden stairs.

His hands were shaking. He didn't know why he was so terrified of a toddler, but the golden flash in her eyes made his stomach churn with nausea. He needed to be outside. He needed his family around him to prove he was still in charge.

He threw Clare out the back door.

She hit the muddy ground of the compound yard. Cold, heavy raindrops immediately began to hit her face and arms. She pushed herself up onto her hands and knees. The mud squished between her fingers.

Kayleigh Pruitt walked out onto the porch. She held a steaming mug of coffee in both hands. A nasty smirk twisted her lips.

"Look at the little rat," Kayleigh sneered. She walked down the steps, her heavy boots sinking into the mud.

She stopped next to Clare and kicked her hard in the ribs.

Clare grunted, rolling onto her side. The physical pain was there, but it felt distant now.

Several other members of the survivalist community stood on their porches. They watched with blank, uncaring faces. No one moved to help.

Enoch marched down the steps. He wanted to erase the fear he felt in the basement. He picked up a thick, wooden branch from the firewood pile.

"I'll teach you to look at me like that," Enoch spat.

Clare lay in the mud. She looked up at the gray sky. The memory of her past life flashed behind her eyes again. She remembered the feeling of her bones breaking under this exact same wood. She remembered dying alone in the dirt.

Her jaw clenched tight. Her fingernails dug deep into the muddy earth.

A hot, vibrating pressure built up behind her sternum. It matched the rhythm of the falling rain. As her anger spiked, the rain turned into a violent downpour.

The wind howled. It ripped across the yard, tearing the coffee mug right out of Kayleigh's hands. The ceramic shattered against a rock. Hot coffee splashed onto Kayleigh's jeans.

"Hey!" Kayleigh shrieked, stepping back.

Enoch ignored the wind. He raised the wooden branch high above his head with both hands.

Clare tilted her head up. The golden light flared bright in her irises. She focused all the heat in her chest directly onto Enoch's raised arm.

A deafening crack split the sky.

The black clouds above them spun into a tight, unnatural spiral.

A jagged bolt of purple lightning tore down from the clouds. It moved faster than the eye could track. It struck the tip of the wooden branch in Enoch's hands.

The wood instantly turned to black ash.

The electrical current surged down Enoch's arms. He let out a blood-curdling scream. His entire body convulsed. The force of the strike lifted his heavy frame off the ground and threw him backward into the mud.

He landed hard. His body twitched violently. Smoke rose from his blackened, blistered palms. The smell of burning hair and cooked meat filled the damp air.

Kayleigh screamed. She fell backward onto her rear, scrambling away in the mud.

The community members on the porches gasped. Some crossed themselves. They backed away into their houses, their faces pale with terror.

Clare sat up slowly. The rain plastered her dark hair to her cheeks. She looked at Enoch's twitching body. Her breathing was perfectly steady. She felt the power receding back into her chest, leaving a satisfying warmth behind.

"Witch!" Kayleigh pointed a trembling finger at Clare. Her voice cracked. "Demon!"

Clare stood up. The mud dripped from her clothes. She took one slow, deliberate step toward Kayleigh.

Kayleigh scrambled backward on her hands and feet, sobbing in pure panic.

Control it, The Chronicler's voice echoed in Clare's mind. Do not expose yourself completely.

Clare stopped. She took a deep breath. She forced the golden light to fade from her eyes. She slumped her shoulders, instantly transforming back into a small, terrified girl.

Enoch groaned in the mud. He rolled onto his side, clutching his ruined hands to his chest. He didn't dare look at Clare.

Far away, over the sound of the pouring rain, the low, heavy rumble of large engines echoed down the mountain road. Black SUVs were tearing through the mud, heading straight for the compound.