The inhabitants of the secluded collection of towns. called Pandora. aren't like all other people. When a Pandorian is born, a being called an angel appears and bonds to the child. These bonds last until either the angel or the human dies. Each angel has its own special ability, which the Pandorians keep hidden from the outside world, scared of what might become of them afterwards. Because they are born with angels, they've decided to make preachers the leaders of the town, and the Baskerville family has had that duty for generations. Every time a preacher's firstborn turns fifteen, they are assigned a difficult task, and only prove themselves worthy of inheriting the title of preacher by successfully completing it.
The current preacher's firstborn son, Lock, just turned fifteen, but his task is unlike the others they've received. He must travel to the few neighboring towns in search of the serial killer nicknamed the Head Hunter, because of their predisposition for decapitation. Not only is his task more difficult and dangerous than any others, since the killer seems to be using an angel to commit the murders, he also doesn't even wish to become the current preacher, finding the community of Pandora archaic, as a result of them being cut off from the outside world for so long. Still, knowing the consequences of avoiding his duties, he accepts the task.
On his journey, he discovers several mysteries about his town, realizing the danger is bigger than he thought.
My heart pulsated through my chest and I didn't think I could hold on for much longer. The frightening, terrorising feeling of his fingers slipping through mine was causing the arm that was gripping to the edge of the cliff to shake.
"Hold on, Harry! I've got you, I swear! Please, just hold on!" my voice held a shrill of terror to it and my eyes were filling with tears; tears of pain, frustration and sheer horror.
Harry moved his gaze from our slipping fingers to my eyes. "It's okay, Ethan. Let go. You can't save me; not this time." I hated how calm his tone was. I hated how defeated he sounded. He had never given up - we always held hope for one another! We never gave up.
"Don't you say that to me! Don't you fucking say that to me!" I roared, a small sob escaping my lips.
Harry just smiled sadly, his muscular, beautiful body swaying in the harsh wind. The fall was so big; he would surely die of a heart attack before he hit the ground. I prayed to God he would.
No.
I was breaking my own rule; I would not give up on him. Either both of us lived or neither of us would. My life would be over the second his ended, anyway.