The disbelief in Ben's voice annoyed him. Hope was the one thing they couldn't afford to lose. But the rebuke died on his tongue. It was fear that made Ben speak like that, a fear he could well understand.
An hour crawled by, then another. Night approached. Ethan pushed away from the
wall. At least now he could do something, instead of merely waiting.
Life suddenly sparked in the darkness of the link. He stiffened, reaching out swiftly. Turmoil, fear and confusion greeted him. Shirley didn't hear him, didn't acknowledge his presence.
It didn't matter. He knew where she was.
Flinch was a dead man.
* * * *
Puddles of yellow light splashed across the floor but did little to take the chill from the room or her body. She'd watched the gentle progress of the sun for the last few hours, lethargy holding her immobile.
