Marian, feeling dread deep in her bones, told him to take her there. She left her husband lying, still half dressed, on top of the bed. He was breathi...g, and that was enough for now.Flossie was still sitting in the chair, still wrapped in the sheet when they got there. She was moaning and rocking as Bernadette and Hilda Mae hovered over her.“She won’t say anything!” said Hilda Mae, relief flooding her face when she saw her mother.Marian looked around. She was horrified by the conditions this. He considered hisoptions as each beat of his heart sent pulses of weary agony through hisleaden limbs and mingled with the searing fire in his lungs, every fiberof his being wanted him to stop running after an hours worth of off andon sprints. The fact that only a tiny percentage of men could have runas well was cold comfort against the undeniable truth that the Witch wasopening the distance between them.He could tell it was tired too, her posture screamed out her fatigue; hethought about how. More

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