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The Amish Bloodsuckers Trilogy: The Amish Bloodsuckers Trilogy
The Amish Bloodsuckers Trilogy: The Amish Bloodsuckers Trilogy
The Amish Bloodsuckers Trilogy: The Amish Bloodsuckers Trilogy
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The Amish Bloodsuckers Trilogy: The Amish Bloodsuckers Trilogy

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The Amish Bloodsuckers Trilogy: CHOSEN, SHUNNED and RECKONING.

Jael is just an average teenage girl with over-protective parents, an unrequited crush on the hottest guy at school, and a best friend she shares everything with. Until her parents let her in on the secret they've kept for nearly sixteen years… 
Jael is the Chosen One. Born to be a vampire slayer, her destiny was written in the Book of the Shunned. She's been chosen by God to set the Minnesota Loon Lake Amish community free from the grip of the Bishop, an ancient and powerful vampire who has been using the Amish people for his own personal Jamba Juice.
Will she willingly leave her friends and all she knows to follow her destiny to Minnesota or will the Bishop bring destiny down on her in Sunburn, Nevada?

If you love young adult/teen fiction, you will love The Amish Bloodsuckers Trilogy. It's the story of a teenage vampire slayer destined to save a Minnesota Amish community overrun with vampires. Loaded with humor, friendship and family, Jael's story will grab your heartstrings and make you laugh out loud.

In CHOSEN, Jael is confronted with her destiny. In SHUNNED, she moves to the Loon Lake Amish community to pursue her destiny. And in RECKONING, the heat is turned up high as she and her friends wage a war to save the community from the Bishop and his vampire offspring.
~~~
Bloggers/Reviewers thoughts on The Amish Bloodsuckers Trilogy

CHOSEN: 
"I really like Jael. The author was able to make her a typical teen, with everyday worries and baggage, and also with a secret life as a vampire slayer, and made it believable and really fun.
The bloodsuckers are nasty, Jael is double tough, her family is fiercely devoted and her friends are loyal.
There are some tender moments in this story and a whole lot of humor. You'd expect that with the title Amish Bloodsuckers! It's all in good fun, but there is some serious slaying too! Jael didn't go through all of that training for nothing. I felt some Buffy and Little Red Riding Hood in this story." ~ Laura's Ramblings & Reviews 

"After trying to read the Twilight series I was done with Vampire stories. But Barbara Brink made me love them again. It's fast paced and the dialog is realistic. I'm looking forward to the next two. But she shouldn't have called it a trilogy. That way she could keep writing about Jael and Shadow. I enjoy her subtle humor." ~ GusMarie

SHUNNED: 
"Jael has brought vengeance with her to Loon Lake and to the Bishop and his growing gang of vampires. She will not stop until his reins of leadership are broken and the vampires are all dead." ~ Laura Thomas

"I flew through this book. It was highly entertaining. I recommend it as a must read after Chosen. It brought heart and life to all the characters involved." ~ Rebecca R

RECKONING: 
"It's great to have Jael's Nevada friends Bree and Shadow back in the story for the grand finale, along with Jael's globe trotting Uncle Seth. Author Barbara Ellen Brink has balanced Jael's very serious dedication to her mission with a dash of irreverent teenage humor, which makes it all the harder to have to leave her behind." ~ Jaylia

"This was an amazing book. I was once again drawn into the world of Amish Vampires from the very beginning. This story has nonstop action with many twists. We also see, as promised, the reappearance of Bree and Shadow. This book ties up all of the loose ends and it was great to see her as her love for her boyfriend Gabe grows. This was an excellent trilogy, one that I'm sad to see end." ~ Simone Lilly-Egerter, Bookworm Babblings

LanguageEnglish
PublisherLapdog Books
Release dateOct 1, 2012
ISBN9781386959922
The Amish Bloodsuckers Trilogy: The Amish Bloodsuckers Trilogy
Author

Barbara Ellen Brink

Barbara Ellen Brink is a multi-published author, supported financially by a loving husband who just happens to have a better paying job. She is the author of the Fredrickson Winery mysteries, Entangled, Crushed, and Savor. She is also the author of an award winning thriller, Split Sense; inspirational suspense novels; and a young adult series, The Amish Bloodsuckers.She grew up on a small farm in Washington State, but now lives in the mean “burbs” of Minnesota with her husband and their dogs, Rugby & Willow. With her kids now pushed out of the nest and encouraged to fly, Barbara spends much time writing, motorcycling with her husband in the summer, and hiking through the snow with the dogs in the winter.

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    The Amish Bloodsuckers Trilogy - Barbara Ellen Brink

    Chapter 1

    An alien Amish freak

    ––––––––

    The arid landscape stretched for miles in all directions. Nothing moved in the hot Nevada sun but a lone tumbleweed, tossed about by a sudden phantom whirlwind sending up a spiral of dust and debris. It petered out within moments, releasing the tumbleweed as suddenly as it was caught up.

    Miriam watched the particles fall back to earth. She felt a kinship to the tumbleweed, being blown across the country, here and there, never quite sure when the next move would occur, whether they would fall on safe ground or land in the middle of trouble. She was tired. Tired of running. Tired of hiding. Tired of preparing for an endgame that remained elusively out of sight. She often thought of Harrison Ford in The Fugitive and knew that if she were standing at the top of a dam and her enemies were pressing in behind, she would definitely take a flying leap and risk her life and the lives of her family in the pounding water hundreds of feet below. Anything rather than return to stand trial in the place she started from, tried by the creatures she once knew as family and friends. The outcome was already written, forged by the blood of those who had gone before.

    She planted her feet against the rough wood planks of the deck and stopped the bench-swing in mid-motion. A bead of sweat slipped from under her bangs and she wiped it away with the back of her hand before it could plop down onto the sewing in her lap. Some habits were hard to break. Sewing and mending came second nature, even though they could well afford to buy new. She finished stitching up the seam that had come apart on a pair of her daughter’s pants and bit off the thread.

    What are you doing out here? It’s sweltering, Jesse said, appearing at her elbow without a sound. Her husband could sneak up on a Leprechaun and steal the pot of gold before the little man had time to plant it at the end of a rainbow. He sank down on the bench beside her and slipped an arm around her shoulders.

    Just thinking. She reached out and rested her hand on his thigh. She could feel hard muscle beneath the fabric of his baggy shorts. You been working out again?

    A little. What’s up?

    She released a quiet sigh. You ever wish we could live like other people? Eat out, join a bowling league, shop at malls, maybe take a family vacation to Mount Rushmore or something?

    His eyes narrowed, but his voice teased. What are you saying? You’d rather be married to a chubby, bald guy who likes to eat at the Rib-Fest every Friday night, works for the local contractor’s union, and sits in front of a TV watching football and drinking Bud light?

    If that chubby, bald guy was you.

    Good answer, he said and grinned. I noticed this morning in the mirror that my hair looked a little thin on top.

    Definitely your imagination. She laughed and reached up to push her fingers through his shoulder length mane, loving the feel of it. His hair, the color of burnt caramel and just as thick, was one of the first things that attracted her to Jesse. She couldn’t imagine him without it flowing around his shoulders like a modern-day Samson. Your hair is thicker than Bruno’s, she said, glancing toward their three-year-old Irish Wolfhound lounging at the bottom of the steps in the shade of the house. At mention of his name, the giant dog lifted his head, his tongue lolling from the side of his mouth. With no further acknowledgment, he laid it down again and let out a heavy sigh.

    So, what’s really bothering you? Jesse asked, as she leaned her head against his shoulder. He shoved off with one foot and sent the swing rocking again.

    Despite the heat, she savored his closeness, cherishing these moments when she had him all to herself. He’d become so preoccupied with security and training and revenge. It made her wish for plain and simple times. Same thing as the past sixteen years I suppose. Just a little homesick for Minnesota.

    We can’t go back there yet. Even the weather is on their side. The desert is the only place I can be sure to keep you safe.

    I know. She reached up and ran her hand along his cheek, the scritch of whiskers rough against her palm. Everything depends on timing. She has to be prepared – thoroughly trained, and psychologically ready. As a Shunned One I understand all that. But as her mother...it terrifies me.

    He pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head. Me too.

    What are you two doing out here?

    Miriam, startled by her daughter’s sudden appearance, laughed against her husband’s chest. She’s just like you, she muttered softly.

    I heard that, Mom, her daughter said from where she stood hovering behind the swing. She stepped around to face them, her arms crossed over her chest. In black stretch pants, a baggy, black t-shirt with the sleeves chopped off, and her feet bare, she looked like a homeless ninja. You know, teenagers don’t want to hear that they’re just Xeroxed copies of their parents. Personally, I like to think I’m an original individual.

    You’re original all right, Miriam said, unsure whether her daughter understood just how original she was.

    On the one hand, she was like any other teenage girl. She wanted to be popular, have a cute boy ask her out, be able to eat junk food without breaking out in pimples, and stay up late texting friends and reading romance novels. The simple things in life. At least the simple life she’d known. On the other hand, she was chosen, like Jael in the Old Testament, her namesake, who drove a tent spike through the head of evil Sisera. Since birth, they had been training and preparing her for this very thing. Yet, it would not be easy to explain to a girl who wanted to fit in, to maybe have a sleepover with girlfriends on Friday night or go to a movie at the mall without her father hovering in the back row.

    Did you finish practicing all the new moves I showed you? Jesse asked, absently running his fingers over the smooth wood of the swing back. He still loved to work with wood, building and shaping objects of strength and purpose. Nothing too fancy or elaborate, but solid and dependable. The swing was his gift to Miriam at Christmas.

    Jael nodded and skipped down the porch steps to sit on the bottom rung and stroke Bruno’s head. Can Brianna come over Saturday afternoon and hang out? We need to work on our science project together. She could sleep over and go to church with us Sunday morning. That way we’d only have to make one trip to town to take her home.

    Miriam felt her husband tense, his answer already showing in the set of his jaw. She gripped his leg to ward off a brusque denial and spoke to the back of her daughter’s head. Honey, I don’t think that would be a very good idea. It’s a long drive out here and her parents probably have much better things to do on a Saturday afternoon. Why don’t you plan to work on your project together in the science lab after school Monday, and I’ll just pick you up a little later than usual. Maybe I can do my grocery shopping or something and kill two birds with one stone.

    I knew it! Jael turned around and glared back at them. You never let me do anything fun. Brianna is the first real friend I’ve ever had! She doesn’t mind that I can’t go to any of the school activities, that I’m forced to wear the most hideous fashions, and that I live in the middle of nowhere. She likes me anyway. All I want to do is act like a normal person for a change. Can’t you understand that?

    We do understand that, Jael. But you need to understand that we are very private people and having visitors to the house is not...

    Not a good idea? You’ve been using that lame excuse like forever! Why isn’t it a good idea? Are you on the FBI’s most wanted list or something?

    Jael, Jesse said, his tone brooked no argument. Drop it. Your mother said no visitors.

    She stood up and faced them, hands on slim hips. Most of the kids at school think I’m some kind of freak. Am I a freak? An alien or something? Is that why we hide out here in the desert? Make sure nobody gets too close?

    Jael!

    Miriam stood up and approached the steps.  Yes. We are a family of aliens. She glanced back at her husband. His lips were set in a thin line, but he nodded. She continued, holding her daughter’s angry gaze with steady resolve. We should have told you before, but we wanted to preserve your childhood for as long as possible.

    Jael frowned, confusion masking underlying fear. What are you talking about? I was just kidding.

    I know. But I’m not.

    Thee art no freak, daughter. Thee art Amish. Jesse stood beside Miriam and tried to lighten the news by speaking like Weird Al Yankovic in his video spoof of Amish life. The video had rankled him when it first came out, but now he seemed to find humor in it. Or at least pretend to.

    Jael stared at them, dark eyes wide with something akin to shock. Have you both gone crazy? When they didn’t respond, she blew out a breath of frustration and moved past them. Okay fine. I’ll call Brianna and tell her I’m an alien Amish person and that’s why I can’t have visitors.

    Jesse caught her arm. You need to sit down and listen.

    No! she said, pulling away. I just want to be left alone.

    Jael, Miriam called out before she could disappear through the front door. It’s time to grow up and accept what you’ve been called to do.

    She turned around, still gripping the doorknob. I’m only fifteen, Mom. Her voice was soft and fragile and the look in her eyes was enough to put a lump in Miriam’s throat. But Jael slowly released her grip on the knob and stepped toward them, back straight, chin up, the way her father had taught her. "Never show fear or weakness. Stand straight and look your enemy in the eye," he’d said many times over the years, training Jael in hand-to-hand combat.

    Jesse motioned toward the empty swing. Why don’t you sit down?

    Jael sank onto the hard wood bench as though her life was coming to an end. She bit at her bottom lip and stared up at them.

    Chapter 2

    This little piggy...

    ––––––––

    Jesse took Miriam’s hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. We wanted to tell you this for a long time but didn’t think you were ready. Jael, you’re...

    Don’t tell me that I’m adopted! she burst out, a crease of worry between her brows. Because I’ve seen pictures of Mom when she was young, and I look just like her.

    You’re definitely our daughter, honey. Miriam sat down beside her and put an arm around her shoulders. No doubt.

    Then what could you possibly tell me that I’m not ready for?

    Remember the Bible story about Jael and Sisera? she asked, brushing a loose strand of hair out of her daughter’s face.

    Of course. I’ve probably heard it a thousand times. Definitely a weird bedtime story for a small child. And a really weird person to name your daughter after, by the way. She rolled her eyes in that condescending teenage manner they had begun to expect in the past year or so.

    She wasn’t weird. She was strong and brave. A woman you should be proud to be named for, Jesse said. Jael wasn’t just a character in a bedtime story. She lived and breathed and fought evil–every day of her life. She was chosen. As you are.

    Jael opened her mouth to respond, then closed it and shook her head.

    It’s true, Miriam confirmed. You are her descendant. You have been chosen. It’s been written in the Book of the Shunned.

    Jael jumped up from the bench and strode to the other end of the deck. She stared out at the desert, gripping the cedar rail with both hands.

    You can’t run away from this. It’s who you are. What you’ve been trained for. Why we live this way–apart from others.

    Jael’s shoulders began to shake as she stood at the rail and they thought she was silently crying, until she turned around and burst out laughing.

    They looked at each other and then back at their daughter. She was obviously having some kind of breakdown.

    Okay, I’m confused, she said finally, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. "So, I’m really not an Amish freak? I’m actually the descendant of a woman from the Bible who pounded a tent peg through the brain of a vicious general when he fell asleep in her home. She grinned. What have I been chosen to do exactly? Put up tents?"

    You definitely inherited your father’s sense of humor, Miriam stated dryly.

    You guys are killing me. What could be so bad that you have to make up all this crazy stuff instead of telling me the truth?

    Sorry to disappoint you, kiddo, but you are an Amish freak, as well as the chosen one. Jesse’s tone had hardened. He was no longer in the mood to break it to her gently. He rubbed a hand wearily over his face and pointed at the bench swing. Sit.

    Jael plopped back down, her mouth still turned up at the corners as though waiting for the punch line. She pulled her legs up and rested her chin on her knees.

    Jael was of the Kenite people, the descendants of Zipporah, Moses’ wife.

    Are you talking about Moses, the guy that parted the Red Sea and all that?

    He nodded but wouldn’t be swayed from his course. Descendants of the Kenite people give birth to a chosen daughter every third generation. She is an only child, conceived on a night of unusual circumstance, with six toes upon her right foot.

    She looked down at her feet and grinned. I’m pretty sure somebody did a miscount.

    It’s true, honey, Miriam nodded. Your feet were printed when you were born–to show to the counsel–and then I had the doctor remove the extra piggy.

    Jael put her hands up as though stopping traffic. Wait a minute! I was born with a sixth toe and you never told me? And who the heck are the counsel?

    The counsel no longer exists, Jesse explained. They were all killed shortly after you were born. And we didn’t feel the need to tell you that you once had a sixth toe. After all, we had it removed for your protection so no one would guess who you really were before you had time to train and grow up.

    And it was gross, Miriam said with a slight shiver.

    As for the unusual circumstances... he began, then trailed off and looked to Miriam to finish the thought.

    We left home during rumspringa to experience the outside world and decide whether we truly wanted to live as Amish. Your father and I were in love and wanted only to be together. Our friends were running wild, drinking and partying all hours of the day and night. They were like pigs let loose in a huge mud puddle during the heat of a summer afternoon. It was horrible. I was ready to go home, be baptized and swear to the faith, but when we arrived at my parent’s house, no one was around. We heard voices in the barn. It was very dark outside but there was a full moon. We moved to the West wall and peeked through the hole left there one autumn by a wayward deer hunter with bad aim. She paused, memories crashing through with aching force. She closed her eyes for a moment and breathed deep. My brother Jacob, two years older than I, was kneeling before the Bishop and chanting. My parents were lying on the dirt floor of the barn, their faces pale even in the dim light of the lanterns. We could tell that they were dead. I wanted to scream, but no sound came out. Thank God for that, or we would have soon met our maker as well.

    They were murdered? Jael asked, eyes wide with shock.

    They were sacrificed by the Order.

    Whose order?

    Not that kind of order. Jesse shook his head, exasperation showing in every line of his face. The Order is a group of monsters that have taken over the Loon Lake Amish community in Minnesota. The place where your mother and I grew up.

    As well as other Amish communities across the country, Miriam added.

    Jael’s blue eyes narrowed in thought. When you say monsters... she began tentatively.

    I mean monsters, he said. They were matter-of-fact words that begged to be denied.

    Eyes wide, she sent a hopeful glance toward her mother.

    Vampires.

    Jael put her legs down and leaned forward, her hands gripping the edge of the bench seat. So, all those stories you told me...those monsters we pretended to fight...those stakes I planted in straw bales and stuffed bad guys...were actually getting me ready to fight real Vampires?

    Jesse nodded. Amish Bloodsuckers. The worst kind.

    Chapter 3

    Cool as a Cadillac

    ––––––––

    Monday afternoon Jael moved down the empty school hallway, her Uggs making a soft scuffing sound against hard linoleum. She glanced in the open door of the offices as she passed. Mrs. Brant, head down, still sat at her desk typing on her keyboard. Everyone else had apparently cleared out for the day.

    Further down the hall she saw Mr. Coffey, the school janitor, on his hands and knees outside the gymnasium doors, scrubbing. Probably cleaning up blood or puke. Every time the basketball team practiced, Tim Graves seemed to have an accident. Once he fell in a puddle of sweat after a game and broke his nose – then threw up – because he always got sick at the sight of blood. At least that’s what she’d heard. She never got to attend games and cheer for the team like a normal teenager with school spirit. Not that she really had school spirit, but it would have been nice to have the option.

    Harriet Thompson High School’s Tumbleweeds were a scraggly, assortment of guys, most of which would never make the team if the school were actually big enough to have try-outs. As it was, anyone who came to practice was automatically a first-stringer. Only Brent Baumgartner sat on the bench, and that was because he had scoliosis so bad he wore a back brace and tended to hook the ball to the left when he passed. But he had to be on the team to attend their weekly pizza parties, so he suited up and handed the other guys towels and water whenever they called time-out.

    She pulled open the door of the science lab and looked around. Brianna wasn’t here yet. She was probably still at Volleyball practice. Her parents thought she should be involved in something other than cerebral endeavors. They actually said that to her – cerebral endeavors – who talked like that? Brianna’s parents did. They were both physicists and when they weren’t deep in research, they pushed their daughter to break out of the scientific mold they’d hatched her in and try to be a real girl. Sort of like Pinocchio, only without the long nose.

    Her friend was petite in stature and features, with wide blue eyes and carefully arranged blonde hair. She looked like one of those porcelain dolls an artist would create for display and not for actual play. But Brianna managed to come alive whenever she was in a science lab and that’s what Jael counted on.

    Science was not Jael’s strong suit, or even her weak suit for that matter. She hated science and believed it would be best to leave all research and experimentation to those more fitted, like white-haired old men in secret government installations underground.

    She flipped the lights on and set her book bag on an empty table. Her mom would be picking her up in less than an hour and they hadn’t even started on their project. She hoped Brianna had some ideas because she was a blank slate.

    The door opened, and Brianna walked in, a huge smile turning her perfect features even more perfect. "Hey, Jael! Sorry I’m late. Practice went a little long ’cause Coach had to give the whole, rah! rah! working together as a team, speech after Sabrina brought a note from her doctor excusing her from tomorrow night’s game."

    Jael rolled her eyes. No way! Is she crazy?

    She nodded. Pretty much. The note said she’s bi-polar and ADD. Everyone already knew that, but Coach thinks anger gives you the winning edge. She works at getting us mad before every game. If Sabrina were contagious, she’d manage to get us all infected. She’ll never let her quit. Apparently, the little fiasco at last week’s game in Bunkerville – when Sabrina punched the guard on the other team – was just an accident. At least that’s the official story.

    Jael slipped into a chair and pulled her notebook out of her bag. Well, I didn’t have many ideas, she said, slowly opening to the section where she’d doodled and scribbled words and designs on a couple pages of notebook paper during class earlier in the day. The teacher had given them time to work on their projects or at least come up with a project, but as usual her mind was elsewhere. She glanced over what she’d drawn. Sketches of staked vampires and dripping blood filled the paper, along with a couple hearts and arrows, the initials JF + LS inside. Lyle was so hot. Hope you have something better, she said.

    Better than cartoons? Brianna grinned and shook her head. You never cease to amaze me with your academic prowess.

    Whatever. Jael leaned back in the chair with a creak of metal castors on tile. Everyone can’t be like you – the popular, pretty, science nerd, genius. Somebody has to be a below average student, with a terrible sense of fashion and no friends. Otherwise the world would be so boring.

    That’s true. Brianna whipped out her notebook and opened it to a full page of neat, cursive handwriting and diagrams. That’s why I already have it all written down right here. You don’t even need to draw one more of those toothy creatures for extra credit. I think we have an easy A.

    We? Jael grinned. I like the sound of that.

    Brianna laughed. I thought you would. She shoved the notebook back into her book bag. Since we’re already ahead of the game, let’s get out of here and have some fun before your mom comes to pick you up.

    I’m really sorry the overnight thing didn’t work out, Brianna. My parents are just so... She didn’t know how to say: My parents are paranoid because I’m the only hope for a bunch of Amish people in Minnesota and they don’t want anything to happen to me before I’ve been thoroughly trained to kill vamps and set the Amish free.

    Over protective? Brianna shrugged and moved toward the door. Everyone’s parents are weird, Jael. Don’t worry about it. Mine have their quirks too. Did you see what my dad wore the other day when he dropped me off? I swear he lives in an alternate universe where nerds are gods.

    Where are we going? Jael asked, following her friend into the hallway. She flipped the light switch off before the door swung shut behind her.

    To the coffee shop. It’s where all the cool kids hang out after school. Didn’t you know? Brianna slung her bag over her shoulder and slanted a glance toward the janitor still on his knees, scrubbing. That’s why I’m getting my college degree, she said with a sniff. I hate blood stains.

    Better not hang out with me then, Jael mumbled under her breath as they pushed through the exit door into the late afternoon sunshine.

    The school parking lot was nearly empty. A few crows pecked at a flattened lunch sack on the hot pavement. The scavengers cawed and flew a few feet away at their approach but were back eating sun-broiled bologna and cheese within seconds.

    Isn’t it like three blocks away? Jael asked, squinting up at the sun. It’s still stinking hot out here.

    Don’t worry. I have a car. She pointed at an old gray Cadillac parked across the lot. "Got it for my birthday. The parents thought I should have a cool vehicle to cruise around in."

    Jael put her arm around her friend and squeezed. Don’t worry, I’m sure it’s very cool in that alternate universe your dad’s from.

    She had to admit the car was comfy, plush seats and lots of room for her long legs, although Brianna’s seat was moved as far up as it would go, so her feet fit comfortably on the peddles. The girl was short! The stereo had terrific bass and surrounded them in sound when they turned it up to sing along with Kelly Clarkson. There was still a lingering hint of cigarette smoke from the last owner and something that smelled like old people or menthol, but overall it was a cool car.

    Brianna drove straight past the coffee shop and continued down Main Street, singing, What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger...

    Hey, Jael bumped Brianna’s elbow to get her attention. The coffee shop’s back there. She hooked a thumb over her shoulder.

    Brianna shot her a grin and kept on singing. She turned left at the next street and slowed as they approached Sunburn Park. A group of kids lounged in the meager shade of a cluster of Acacia trees, smoking and laughing. She recognized the back of Lyle’s blonde head and shoulders. Her heart did a flip-flop and she slumped in her seat. Keep going!

    Don’t you want to talk to him? I’m sure you two would hit it off. He’s terrible at Science too. Brianna pulled the car along the curb and slipped it into park. Come on. You’re not afraid of a boy, are you?

    Jael shook her head and slid lower in the seat. No, I’m afraid of rejection from a boy.

    Jael, you’re beautiful and fun to be around. What could he possibly reject in that? She opened her door and stepped out. You coming?

    No, she said, but she opened the door and climbed out anyway.

    Brianna was already heading toward the group of kids, so she grudgingly trudged along behind, wishing she was wearing shorts and flip-flops like her friend instead of Uggs and a skirt. She felt a trickle of sweat slip down her spine.

    Hey, Brianna. How’s it going? Jack Hitchens, the closest thing Harriet Thompson High School had to a James Dean, smiled up at them. Or rather, smiled up at Brianna. His mane of chestnut hair grew long and feathered back from his face like a modern-day hippy, except he actually washed his and apparently added highlights.

    Hi, Jack. Brianna smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. She glanced away from his eager attention to the far side of the group. A scrawny kid with a book in his hand and his head down, oblivious to the rest of them, was her choice of poison. She moved toward him.

    Jack glared after her, his sexy lips pooching out in a pout of resentment. Jael caught his eye and shrugged. Nerds, she said, can’t live with’em, can’t do your homework without’em.

    Jack laughed and punched the kid next to him in the shoulder. She’s funny. I thought you said she was weird. The kid turned around and looked up at her.

    Lyle.

    Jael stared back, a sense of unease suddenly filling her insides. More than just the quivering of a lovesick puppy. She felt as if someone were watching her. Turning away – from eyes that she noticed were specked with gold – she glanced around the small park and along the street but didn’t see anything odd. She glanced back. His lashes swept down as he turned back to the conversation he’d been having before he was so rudely interrupted.

    Jael moved away and joined Brianna where she sat on the ground next to Aiden. Hi, Aiden, she said, tilting her head to see the title of the book he was reading. Wow, really? You came to the park to study the Mayan civilization?

    He looked up and licked his lips. We learn from history or we perish.

    That’s deep. Like buried, cracked pottery.

    His eyes lit up. My dad’s taking me to Peru in the summer to work on an excavation. It’ll be awesome!

    Awesome, Jael agreed and rolled her eyes for Brianna’s benefit.

    Brianna gave what she thought was an inconspicuous jerk of her head toward Lyle. Jael found it to be more like a flashing neon sign heralding her interest in the guy. She felt the color rise in her cheeks and turned her face away. Her friend was going to kill her with kindness.

    Her cell phone buzzed, and she slipped it from her pocket. Brianna, we got to go. My mom’s looking for me.

    She’s already at the school? I thought we had another half hour.

    Sorry. Jael stood up and smoothed her skirt.

    The sun slanted downward and shadows stretched out from the trees toward the road. They said their goodbyes and climbed back in the car. Brianna made a U-turn in the road, having to back up once to clear the curb on the other side. The car was pretty big. Luckily, Sunburn, Nevada was a tired little town. Things were slow, and people were laidback. Even Officer Wallace, the local traffic cop, took afternoon siestas in the shade of the giant billboard on the edge of town. Jael saw him snoozing every day when her mom drove past the sign on their way home after school.

    Her mom was in the parking lot, waiting, cell phone to her ear. Probably talking to her dad and telling him how she’d gone missing for five whole minutes during the most dangerous time of the day...siesta. She sighed.

    Your mom’s pretty. Brianna pulled in beside the old Suburban, her foot on the brake. Tell her it was my idea to go to the park. Sorry if I got you in trouble. She put a hand on Jael’s arm. Call me.

    Thanks. Jael got out of the car and waved as Brianna pulled away.

    Chapter 4

    The smell of a good slayer

    ––––––––

    She climbed in the passenger door of her mom’s truck. The air conditioner was on full-blast, filling the huge vehicle with enough cold air to cool the Mohave Desert. Hey, Mom.

    We’re on our way home, her mom said into the phone then pushed end and placed the phone in a cup holder. Where have you been? she demanded, her brows drawn into a frown of concern.

    Would you believe Vegas? And you know what they say about Vegas. What happens in Vegas...

    Her mother slapped her hands against the steering wheel. Jael! This is not a joke. We were worried about you. You’re not ready and we can’t protect you out here.

    Protect me from what, Mom? She shook her head, trying to understand. I thought the danger was in Minnesota. That’s why we live here, thirty miles from a one cop town, in the middle of the desert.

    She dropped her head against the wheel and groaned as though explaining was nearly as painful as the day she gave birth to Jael. Honey, you’re never safe. They have scouts looking for us. She straightened and reached out a hand, brushing her fingers along her daughter’s smooth cheek. Trackers. They can smell The Chosen One from a hundred yards.

    Smell? Jael wrinkled her nose. I do shower daily, you know.

    They aren’t like regular people. Trackers have a heightened sense of smell. They are part Native American and part...well, I’ll leave the evil history to your father. She put the truck into gear and pulled out of the school parking lot, headed toward home.

    Jael leaned her head against the passenger window. The glass was cool and calming. Her parents expected so much from her now. She’d just found out she was the Chosen One and all of a sudden, she was supposed to act differently, think differently, and be constantly on guard against Indians. Really? Because Sunburn was full of Native Americans. She didn’t know if they were Navajo, Shoshone or Paiute but being on guard against half the town might prove to be a bit tiring.

    They passed the billboard where Officer Wallace snoozed in his patrol car and moments later had left Sunburn’s town limits behind. Miles and miles of barren desert stretched westward, nothing but sagebrush and an occasional cactus to mar the otherwise bleak landscape. Jael squinted against the glare of the afternoon sun. The blacktop ahead seemed to ripple and writhe like a pool of water. A desert mirage.

    Her mother flipped the visor down and slipped sunglasses on. She glanced at Jael and back to the road. I don’t mean to put a damper on your life, Jael. Your father and I just... She shook her head. We’ve been doing this hiding and preparing thing for so long, and now that the time is near...

    Jael twisted in her seat, throwing her arm along the back of her mom’s headrest. Near what?

    Her mom shot another glance her way and her hands tightened on the steering wheel. Your sixteenth birthday.

    You’re telling me that instead of a sweet sixteen party and a possible first kiss, I get a big sendoff to kill vamps? Wow, that sounds awesome, Mom. Definitely a Kodak moment.

    No, not awesome. It’s not what I dreamed of for you at all. When I grew up in the Amish community rocking my baby sister and playing with cloth dolls, I never envisioned that my daughter would some day be the Chosen One. That you would be destined for a life of danger and darkness. Her voice shook, and a tear slipped out from under her shades and down her cheek. If I could do it myself and spare you from this destiny, I would. Believe me.

    Jael bit her lip and turned back to look out the side window. What if I don’t want to be The Chosen One? she asked, her voice small and tight in her throat.

    They drove on in silence for a mile or two. Then her mom reached out and took her hand. It’s not about wanting. It never has been. Whether you accept it or not, doesn’t really matter. Eventually they will realize who you are, she said, squeezing Jael’s fingers tightly, and your destiny will explode around you. Better to be prepared than caught unaware.

    A semi roared past them, pulling a smooth white tanker filled with some kind of combustible liquid. It picked up speed and was soon just a dot on the road ahead. Her mom slowed to turn down their road. Chunky gravel crunched beneath the tires of the SUV, and a cloud of dust billowed up behind them, hanging in the air long after they passed. A cloud that could be followed.

    Jael glanced away from the side mirror. She was beginning to feel as paranoid as her parents acted. Who was going to follow? Other than the semitrailer there hadn’t been another soul on the road all the way from school.

    After another mile on the gravel road, they turned into the driveway of their ranch style home. The modest house was set back from the road and penned in on three sides by a corral type fence. A few scraggly pines that someone had planted about ten years earlier gave little shade to the yard. The ground was rocky and cracked, heat making it impossible to grow grass. At least she didn’t have to mow a lawn. Not since moving to Nevada.

    The tool shed, about fifty yards south of the house, was open, the door moving eerily in the slight desert breeze. Her mom climbed out of the truck and looked around, one hand digging in her purse. She pulled out a tiny container of pepper spray, dropped her purse back on the truck seat and motioned for Jael to follow.

    Jael had no idea what her mom was going to do with pepper spray but knew better than to argue. She moved quickly around the truck, scanning the yard and sagebrush field beyond. Nothing moved; not even one of the black-tailed jackrabbits she’d seen romping around near the house lately. I don’t see any... she began, standing just behind her mom’s left shoulder.

    Shh. She held the pepper spray out in front like a talisman and moved slowly forward toward the shed.

    The high-pitched creak of the door’s rusty hinges sent a tingle climbing Jael’s spine. Where’s Bruno? she whispered, her body rigid with tension. The dog normally plowed her over each day before she barely stepped foot out of the truck. The only time he’d missed greeting her after school was when he was sick from eating a bag of chocolate hearts she’d left out in her room one Valentine’s day. He threw up all over and then just lay under the deck and whined.

    They both stopped a few feet from the open door of the shed, her mom holding the spray can out and Jael moving into a defensive crouch. She registered the excited yip of Bruno locked inside the house in the same instant that a masked man barreled out of the shed, knocked the spray from her mom’s hand and pushed her down, then turned to take on Jael.

    Jael, run! her mom screamed, scrambling to get up from the ground where she’d fallen.

    Jael measured the man with her eyes. Dressed in black from head to toe, a stocking pulled over his face, he was solidly built but not much taller than she. He moved like a pro, stepping past her mom and advancing slowly, carefully, his eyes locked with hers. Obviously, he understood that she was the one to be reckoned with. After pushing her mom around, he very well should expect a good thrashing.

    She moved back, leading him further away from her mom, her hands up and ready to strike. He might be stronger, but he wouldn’t be faster. She circled, gaining advantage by her position. He moved to grab her, and she jabbed him in the eye and whipped around to apply a jump kick to his back. He went down, rolled and was up so fast she barely had time to deflect a sharp jab to her side.

    Her mom stood shakily and backed out of the way, leaving them to their dance. The man glanced her way when she bent to pick up the pepper spray again.

    Jael took the distraction as an opportunity. She planted a jump kick to the man’s face. He fell back with a loud grunt of pain and lay there for a second unmoving. She moved in to put him completely out of commission with a joint lock, but the man pulled a knife from his boot and swung it at her with lightning speed.

    The blade nicked her leg, drawing blood. Her mom screamed and started toward her and then she heard Bruno tearing across the yard, the pads of his feet on the hard ground thumping like a horse at full gallop. The man turned to gauge Bruno’s approach and Jael kicked the knife from his fingers, grabbed his hand and forced his wrist and arm into a locked position. Holding his arm behind his back she managed to bring him to his knees.

    All right, I give! he spat out, pain tingeing his words with breathlessness.

    Bruno stopped just short of biting the man’s nose off, planted all four feet and growled deep in his throat, the hairs on the back of his neck standing at attention. Jael was pretty sure the intruder’s neck hairs were doing the same.

    She grinned. Good boy, Bruno.

    Her mother tentatively approached them. She glanced down at the open cut dripping blood into Jael’s boot. Honey, are you all right?

    I’m fine. Find Dad. She was worried that something had happened to him.

    I’m right here, kiddo. I saw the whole thing. You did great! He strode across the yard, following the path that Bruno had just taken. He pushed his hair back with one hand and stopped to sling an arm around his wife. Better than I expected.

    Was he in the house the whole time? Watching? What was this, a setup? She tightened her grip on the man and he grunted.

    Could you let me up now? he gasped from beneath her.

    Let him go, Jael, her father said, laughter in his voice, it’s just your Uncle Seth.

    She glared at her parents and reluctantly released the man and stepped back. Bruno growled more menacingly than before and looked ready to take over where she’d left off.  It’s okay, Bruno. Good boy. She patted his head and grabbed his collar to pull him away, so the man could get on his feet.

    Her father stepped forward, still grinning. That was amazing. I’m so proud of you, Jael. He tried to pull her into his arms, but she stepped out of reach.

    I don’t know what that was, but it wasn’t funny. She shot her mother a glance. Did you know about this? Were you just playing along with Dad’s game the whole time?

    Her mom shook her head, lips pressed into a thin line. I thought we were truly in danger, Jael. I didn’t know it was Seth until he pulled the knife.

    Seth laughed, a froggy croak of a voice. He pulled the mask from his face. Blonde hair spilled out. How would you recognize my knife?

    Not the knife. The tattoo on the back of your hand. Her mother turned and started toward the house. Come on, Jael. Let’s clean that cut so you don’t get an infection.

    Jael released Bruno’s collar. The big dog gave Seth another warning growl before following her across the yard toward the house. He never did like her uncle and right now she didn’t blame him. She stopped at the bottom of the steps and took his head in her hands, looked him in the eyes. Guard the house, Bruno, she whispered. No admittance.

    Chapter 5

    Slayers should be seen and not heard

    ––––––––

    Jael hurried up the steps and through the front door. Through the screen she saw her father and uncle still down by the shed, talking. Bruno positioned himself on the bottom step. She smiled.

    Jael, come here, her mother called from the kitchen. We need to clean that cut with antiseptic. Who knows where Seth’s knife has been.

    She went into the kitchen and slumped in a chair at the table, watching her mom dig through the first-aid drawer. She called it the boo-boo drawer, because whenever she had a cut or scrape, a bug bite or sliver, her mom would find something in that drawer to make it feel better. Whether they lived in a trailer, house, or apartment, they always had a boo-boo drawer. Training to be a Vampire slayer often came with mishaps.

    It’s not that big a deal, Mom.

    Better to be safe than sorry. Little things can become big deals.

    She shrugged.

    Are you all right? Her mom wiped the wound with an antiseptic-soaked cotton ball and then blew gently over the cut as if she were still a little girl.

    Of course. I’ve had worse.

    She pressed an extra-large bandage over the thin slit and secured it with white tape, then looked up and met Jael’s eyes. I’m not talking about your leg, honey. I’m talking about your dad’s little surprise.

    Jael rolled her eyes. What do you want me to say? That it was justified, ’cause I need to be ready in any situation? That scaring you to death in the process was okay? No, I don’t like what he did. Dad can throw whatever he wants at me, but he shouldn’t have involved you. She stood up and walked to the sink, peering out into the sun-baked yard. The men were standing at the bottom of the steps now, staring Bruno in the face. His hackles were up, and he seemed to be taking his guard duty very seriously. She couldn’t help but laugh.

    What’s so funny? Her mom put the bandages back in the drawer and came to stand beside her. When she saw the scene playing out on the steps, she shook her head and grinned. Jael. I can’t believe you’ve turned Bruno against his own master.

    She slipped an arm around her mother’s waist. Just call me the dog whisperer.

    Jael! her father yelled up to the house. Get out here and tell this dog to let us in!

    Her mother pushed her toward the door, laughing. Go save your father from the wrath of Bruno and then come back and help me get dinner going.

    Jael opened the front door and made a clicking sound with her tongue. Bruno turned his head to look up at her and whined. Good boy. Go take a nap, she said. He slipped around the men and crawled into the shade under the deck. What’s wrong, Dad? Are you afraid of your own dog?

    Uncle Seth snorted a laugh.

    Her father shot him a hard look. Who are you to laugh, little brother? You just let a girl beat you up.

    "Uncle Seth didn’t let me do anything, Dad. He’s lucky I didn’t break his arm."

    Why didn’t you? You had him in a double joint lock, after all. They moved through the door, following her into the kitchen. He slapped Seth on the back. It would have served him right.

    Hey! You’re the one who planned this little charade. Seth glared at his brother and sat at the kitchen table turning his chair to straddle it like a horse.

    It didn’t feel right, she said, moving to the sink to peel the potatoes her mom put out. I didn’t know it was Seth, but something wasn’t... she shook her head. I don’t know.

    Woman’s intuition, her mom supplied. When violence fails, think with your heart.

    Yeah, that’ll work, her dad scoffed. He pulled a can of cola from the refrigerator and handed one to Seth as well. You’ll have her feeling sorry for the monsters with that kind of sensitivity training.

    She started scraping peelings into the sink and listened with growing irritation to the conversation floating around her. They were discussing her as if she wasn’t even in the room.

    I’m just glad you two finally decided to fill her in on her life’s vocation. You know how hard it is to skirt around the issue every time I stop by for a visit? Seth asked. He popped the top on his can of soda and took a long drink.

    You know how hard it is to train the Chosen One without telling her why she needs to be able to stake a straw man in the heart at thirty paces while running full blast and jumping a wall?

    Boys, her mom interrupted, her voice raised to get their attention, could you talk about something else please? She stopped and kissed Jael’s cheek before she crossed the kitchen floor to check the roast in the oven.

    Her mom always knew what she was feeling. Her dad...not so much. He wanted her to be prepared, to be the best slayer she could possibly be, but it wasn’t up to him anymore. She needed to get her head around the fact that things were soon going to change and there was nothing she could do about it. But she’d prefer to deal with it in private.

    What else would we talk about? We’ve been training her since she was out of diapers, and now she’s nearly ready to fulfill the prophecy and you want to talk about something else? It’s been hard holding back, keeping this secret between the three of us. Now that she knows, there’s no reason to keep silent.

    Jael slammed the potato down and let the peeler drop into the sink. She turned slowly, her eyes filling with tears of anger and disappointment. They didn’t understand. They could never understand. She was Chosen. Not them. Do you know how hard it is to be a teenage girl and be told that your life is not your own, that the dreams you’ve dreamed and the hopes you’ve cherished for the future may never be more than that...hopes and dreams? Being Chosen doesn’t feel to me like a gift, but like a curse. I wish I’d never been born with six toes! She turned and ran from the room, rushing down the hall to her bedroom.

    Chapter 6

    They suck blood, not dust

    ––––––––

    The smell of roast beef and onions permeated the air two hours later where she’d fallen asleep across the bed listening to music with her ear buds in.  Her father woke her up banging on the door.

    She pulled it open and slanted him a sleepy glance.

    Don’t you look bright and bushytailed. One side of his mouth lifted in a half smile. Time for dinner, kiddo.

    Jael followed her dad to the kitchen and took her seat at the dinner table. She felt a little awkward after her outburst earlier, but no one seemed to give it a second thought. Seth had turned his chair around the proper way but now leaned back on the rear legs, causing her mom to tighten her lips and release heavy exaggerated sighs of irritation every time she looked his way.

    Her father bowed his head and waited, giving them all a chance to get into a reverent frame of mind before he said the blessing on the food. Seth dropped the front legs of his chair to the floor and everyone bowed their head.

    Her father ended with a hearty Amen, and lifted the roast beef platter.

    So, what are you doing here, Uncle Seth? It’s been what...six months since you visited? Jael took a scoop of mashed potatoes and passed the serving bowl along.

    He met her gaze and wriggled his eyebrows up and down. Seven, but who’s counting?

    Seth was in China again, her father said, handing her the rolls. He picked up his fork and pointed it at his brother. He was training with a small group of monks in the art of Shaolin Kung Fu, but after seeing you wipe the dirt with him, I think maybe he needs a refresher course.

    She laughed at her uncle’s look of chagrin. Sorry, Uncle Seth. There’s a big difference between learning the moves and employing the moves. Maybe with a little more practice... She took a bite of roast beef.

    After all I do for you, he said shaking his head, and I get no respect.

    For me?

    Why do you think I go to all those strange places and stay for months on end? Not for the food, that’s for sure. He waved a hand at the table. Those monks never eat this good.

    Jael met her father’s eyes. You mean Seth has been bringing back fighting techniques for me to learn since I was little? Why don’t I remember this?

    He shrugged. We didn’t talk about it. Seth taught me the different martial arts and I passed them along to you. It’s best to have one teacher and he couldn’t travel and be here for you as well. So, I had to be father and teacher. I know you didn’t always appreciate my dual role in your life, pushing you to be tough and aggressive, when most fathers would be taking their daughters to ballet class or piano lessons. But it had to be done. His eyes glistened in the overhead kitchen light. And I’m proud of what you’ve accomplished.

    She looked down at her plate, biting her lip. It was hard to stay angry with her father when he looked at her like that. They sparred on a regular basis, verbally as well as physically, and it had always been sort of fun, but when she learned there was a greater purpose behind it all, a destiny that she must accept whether she liked it or not – the fun seeped out and left only duty. A duty she was having a difficult time getting her mind around. Vampire slaying. She poured gravy on her potatoes and took a big bite.

    When she looked up her mom was watching her from across the table. Her smile was soft and knowing. It’s all right, Jael. We’re all afraid, she said. It’s how you handle the fear that’s important.

    That’s true, Seth said with a bob of his head. He stuffed another bite of meat in his mouth and chewed around his words. She needs to confront a real vamp before she gets thrown into the den of vipers.

    What are you suggesting? her mother asked, worry in her voice.

    An experiment. To be sure she’s ready. He turned and met Jael’s eyes. How do you feel about graveyards at midnight?

    Not my favorite hangout.

    That’s good, because you seldom find a Vamp hanging out at the cemetery. They may be the living dead, but they go where the nightlife is. They suck blood, not dust.

    Wow, sounds like a catchy bumper sticker.

    He laughed. I’ll have one printed up for you.

    Her father set down his fork and knife and pushed his plate back to make room for his elbows on the table. He leaned forward. How soon do you propose we put Jael through this experiment? he asked.

    Seth scratched thoughtfully at his cheek and glanced up at the teapot-shaped clock on the wall. How about tonight?

    Jael felt a small shift at her center, a tightening, a quiver. Fear? Excitement? She wasn’t quite sure. But she knew there was going to be a heart staked tonight.

    Chapter 7

    Valley of indecision

    ––––––––

    Her mom had hugged her, warned her to be careful, and waved them off, moving back into the house with Bruno at her heels. Jael climbed into the back seat and sighed. It seemed as though everyone was confident about this vampire slaying exercise except her. She didn’t know if she was quite ready to stake a real live monster, even if they were technically dead.

    Her father drove the SUV while Uncle Seth sat in the bucket seat next to him, his computer open on his lap. He’d plugged some kind of Internet thingy into the side and was surfing the web for recent obituaries, then hacking medical examiner offices and police websites to look through their data for victims who died from a loss of blood with no clear exit wound.

    I thought vampires drained the blood from the victim’s jugular. Why wouldn’t the report state that? she asked, leaning forward.

    By the time the coroner finds those markings on the victim’s neck, the holes have greatly diminished and the redness and bruising that may have been there at the onset have disappeared. There is something in the saliva of the undead that actually heals to a certain extent. And they rarely tear or disfigure a human unless they’ve not fed for an extended amount of time. So, a coroner looking for a significantly larger wound would just chalk up those two tiny holes to bug bites or some such thing.

    Wow, that’s sort of awesome in a creepy killer kind of way.

    He scrolled down a list of names. I can track the migrating patterns of vampires by the number of unknown causes of death in an area.

    You’re trying to tell me that vampires migrate like birds? Jael leaned forward reading over his shoulder. She tried not to laugh but her uncle’s theory sounded a little insane. They may be likened to blood-sucking bats in comic books, but birds?

    He glanced back. It’s not as crazy as it sounds. I’m not saying all vampires migrate but a good bunch of them do. And they don’t just move to the same place every time. They trade houses, cars, and other holdings, with other vampires. They move from place to place like serial killers leaving no clear path.

    Which way? Her dad asked, slowing as they approached the exits to the interstate.

    Let’s head toward Beatty. Seth tapped his finger on the scroll bar. Looks like we might have a winner.

    Her dad chuckled and took the exit to the right.

    What’s so funny about Beatty? she asked.

    Seth grinned back at her. Ironic really. Beatty’s called the Gateway to Death Valley.

    Beatty wasn’t much more than a tourist trap with a population of under 2000 residents. A plain square sign with brown letters proclaimed:

    Gateway to Death Valley

    Beatty

    Established 1903

    They drove through the little town on Highway 93, the lights from all-night bars and casinos glittered like beacons to desperate people. Jael saw an old man stumbling along the sidewalk, head down, arms wrapped around his stomach as though he were cold or sick. She looked away.

    So, what are you thinking? her dad asked, glancing at Seth in the dark car.

    Let’s drive around a bit and get the lay of the town.

    Jael rubbed a hand over her face and blinked. She’d taken a nap while her dad drove, but now she needed to be alert. She reached for the water bottle by her side and unscrewed the cap, took a long drink and tightened the lid back on.

    Seth had his computer open again. He clicked on a photograph and it filled the screen. This is the old train station at Rhyolite. Just a few miles from here. I think a deserted ghost town is just the ticket.

    If it’s deserted, why would vampires hang out there? she asked, leaning forward to get a better look at the photograph. It had obviously been a beautiful building at one time, but now had fallen into disrepair. It looks old but not ghost town old.

    He clicked on another picture. The station is one of the only buildings still livable. See. This is the school house.

    The outer concrete walls of the school were mostly complete, but the roof no longer remained on the two-story building that once housed boys and girls learning to read, write, and throw spit balls. He flipped through a half dozen other photos and she saw that Rhyolite was most definitely a ghost town. There was an old wooden Mercantile store, the crumbling concrete of a three-story bank building with ornate brick work at the top of the two tallest remaining walls, and a building built of bottles that was once used as a jail.

    "Okay, but I still don’t understand why you want to go out

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