Chasing Anne

Goodbye

Mitch was nothing short of terrified. His fingers gently pressed against Anne's wrist, trembling in fear of what the procedure would result in. For a moment, he felt nothing, but then ever so faintly, he felt the gentle pulse of the blood in her vein. He breathed a sigh of relief and bowed his head, thanking God that she was still alive. It was a miracle that they had survived this long with what little provisions they had, but Mitchel knew that with Anne unconscious, they didn't have much longer. He had no idea where Raymond was, no idea if help was coming or not, and no idea what the outcome of the next thirty-six hours would be. By God's grace and power alone they would be saved, but trusting in him was not easy, and Mitch could not deny that he had doubts. What ifs ran through his head daily and pestered both his physical and spiritual strength. He knew that the food they had would not last more than a day and their water would not last more than two. The odds were most definitely against him and Anne, and he was finding it harder and harder to trust his heavenly father. Daily, he cried out to him and begged him for help and for rescue, but so far nothing had turned for good or for bad in their situation. Taking a deep breath, Mitchel leaned back against the stone wall of the cavern in which they hid and folded his hands over a knee. Anne was deathly pale and it scared him. She had to make it. He didn't know exactly who Mark was or any of the other people that Anne talked about, but he knew that Mark and Anne had something for each other...something he knew had to survive. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall behind him.

"God, we need you," he whispered.

He could think of no other time that he had ever been so desperate. No matter how he looked at it, time was running out.

Kaarle and Amory came to rest beside Ardor and Peter on the roof of Brianna's home, their wings slowly and gently beating as they landed. Ardor turned to them and tried to smile, but the look of anxiety and trepidation on the two angel's faces made shivers run down his spine. His gaze turned steel cold as he tried his best to look upon them with confidence, but whatever they had to say was gnawing on him, even though he hadn't heard it yet.

"What is it?" he asked, forcing himself to speak.

"Anne is fading faster than we expected to," Kaarle said softly, his face grim. "Mitchel is running out of supplies and medically speaking, Anne is losing more than can be afforded with our time."

"And how much time do you think we have?"

"Less than twenty-four hours."

Ardor gulped. "That's not enough time. Jadon hasn't even gotten the horses yet and-."

"Horses may not be fast enough," Amory said.

"They're our only chance," Ardor replied. "Besides, Bartholomew is already trying to get Mark, Jadon, and Jackson on the move. It's just going to take a little more time."

"But Raymond Parr and all of the demons that surround him are moving at an extremely quick pace. We do not have the time or even the resources to survive this!"

"Which is why Bartholomew is with Cayden now requesting a larger force," Peter said.

Amory smirked. "As if that's going to do anything. You know how much Cayden and Bartholomew disagree with each other. Ever since Richard gave orders for Cayden to enlist Bartholomew to this mission, Cayden has done everything he can to keep Bartholomew at his wits end. He knows how much Richard likes him...and he knows how good Bart has become. We all know that Bartholomew has potential and one day will be promoted."

"But until then, Bartholomew must report to Cayden...and that limits him, which limits our mission. If we don't get this support...it's all over," Ardor muttered.