Saturday Evening Post AND Sunday Morning Breakfast Serial

That's right folks, "Two great tastes that taste great together."  No, wait, that's a Reeses.  But still.

Yesterday I was working on edits.  Hard.  When I got stuck I would do housework or attack the weeds in the back yard with the scythe.  Nothing like a little physical labor to clear the head.

I made excellent progress, but I was at it until bedtime so, no post.

Now it is Sunday morning and since I skipped the serial last week, I really feel like I should do it too.  I mean, I left my poor guy in the middle of a flashback/escape with the girl of his dreams.  How sad is that.  SO, since it's been two weeks I'm going to post the last couple of sentences of the last post to remind you where you left off and go from there. 

Oh, and YES I am behind on sending prizes AGAIN.  I just get caught up and then you guys go and win things.  JEEZ.  (LOL)  But I will get it done.  Probably next weekend. 

Now, without further ado, I give you. . . . (drum roll)

Who in the @#$@# is Boone Carter?


"Bitch." Abraham's wife had a bright red handprint on one side of her face and blood at the corner of her mouth. "You'll pay for that." She stomped out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her. Even from where I stood I could hear the bolt shoot home.

My mother wasted no time. She scrambled over to the window, unlocked it and pulled it open. "Come, quickly. We don't have much time."

I climbed in seconds before she went out.  "Wrap her up in the blankets and bring her out through the window.  I'll get a car."

That wasn't going to be as easy as it sounded.  This was a 'closed compound.'  Abe didn't want any of the followers just wandering off.  But I didn't question her.  There was no time.  Another contraction had hit Sara.  She was screaming, and there was more blood. 

I ran to the bed.  It took a minute or so for the contraction to pass, when it did, and she opened her eyes she saw me there.

"Sam."  She whispered, giving me a weak smile that tore at my heart.

"I'm here.  I'm here."  I pulled the sheets and blankets off of the edge of the bed, wrapping them all around her.  "Hang on.  We're getting you to the hospital."

"I'm glad you're here." 

I bent to pick her up.  She wasn't heavy, more awkward than anything else.  She tried to help, reaching up to put her arms around my neck, but she there was no strength in them.  She was so weak.

Getting through the window with  her was difficult, but I managed.  Just in time too.  My mom came peeling up in a battered old truck that had belonged to my dad before he died and she joined up.  She flung open the door and I dashed up as lights came on and shouts were heard.

"COME ON!"  My mom ordered.  I didn't argue.  I set Sara on the seat as gently and quickly as I could and climbed in.  We were moving before I could even shut the door, sending the guards scrambling and diving for cover when it was clear we weren't stopping for anything. 

We blasted through the gate, and were down the drive and onto the highway.  Looking over my shoulder I saw men running for the garage and the other vehicles.

Mom drove as fast as she dared.  We needed to get a lead on our pursuers, and get to the hospital soonest, but the narrow, twisting roads, with their sharp drops guarded only my thin metal rails required care and moderation.  I held Sara close, her moans of pain tearing at my heart and prayed that we'd make it as I looked over my shoulder again and again.

We were less than halfway down when I saw what I'd been dreading.

Headlights.