John and Amy huddled at the kitchen table in John’s house staring at the two pentagram note cards. John had a mug of hot coffee cupped in his hands, and he kept shaking his head as if by doing so he could deny the reality of this moment.
“They’re not gone,” he whispered. “I mean, I knew they weren’t, but with their leaders all dead, I thought they would be in retreat. I thought it would take time for them to get organized, but it didn’t and now they’ve got Sarah.”
He stumbled back into the house, barely able to put coherent thoughts together. He tried to tell Amy what he’d found. She sat him down at the table and gave him a coffee while they tried to calm down enough to decide what to do.
“Come on, John, we’ve got to think and come up with a plan,” she coaxed.
John rocked in his chai
