We are at the mercy of life, unsure of what lies beyond it. Perhaps it continues, or maybe it's just our minds playing tricks on us...
That's what Orleans thought, lost in thought.
"Everything isn't lost in the rubble," a voice said from behind them.
They turned around to see who it was.
"Is this what you were looking for?" the stranger asked, holding up the object Elijah had been searching for. She grinned lopsidedly, not showing her teeth.
"Yes," Elijah replied hesitantly, disturbed by the dark aura emanating from the woman.
"It's funny how the dead are never left in peace, even in death," the stranger said. "What gives anyone the right to disturb them?"
"What?" Elijah's heart raced and his brow furrowed. The woman's grin grew wider, showing her teeth mischievously. "Are you joking? I don't know who you are, but I need that diary." He tried to grab it from her hand, but before he could, she did something that left him stunned for several seconds. Rebekah was equally stunned. It had to be a joke, just his imagination. But now he was against the wall, struggling to breathe as the woman choked him. "Let go of me!" he begged, feeling as though her arms were made of spaghetti.
"No one, absolutely no one, will have my diary," she said fiercely.
Between life and death, we persist.