The Survivors: Point of Origin (book 2)

The Point of Origin

I was beginning to detest the small conference room off the church corridor. It seemed like each time was in it, I was telling my family of more horrors perpetrated by my siblings.

We were all crammed into the tiny room again. We told them of my vision, of the mad dash to save Adelaide, of the losing fight with the rogue Survivors, and of their disappearance. We spared the details of jumping out of the plane (okay, of the existence of planes), and, at my request, of the strange solid-smoke pieces that extended from my fingertips that, as best I could tell, were physical manifestations of my thoughts.

"I thought you said you knew how to kill them!" Andrew exclaimed.

"We had no way of knowing they'd be impervious to the usual methods," Anthony responded, trying to stay calm. "We thought you were all witches, and that they were vieczy. But they are something different. Something we've never seen."

"Their defenses were incredibly strong, which is uncharacteristic for their kind. We are not used to such opponents," Patrick added.

"But there were twenty-eight of them and so few of you, and you came out unscathed," Andrew reasoned.

"That's because of our powers. Mark and Patrick able to fight several at a time without touching them, while simultaneously fighting hand-to-hand with another. Ginny can do the same by mirroring their powers. I have some talents that aided us, too," Anthony explained. I noticed how he could not say the same for Everett.

"But still," Andrew said.

"We think they don't know how to destroy their own kind. Much like you don't know how to destroy Survivors, they are unaware of how to harm themselves and so they can't harm us," he explained. It was always interesting when Anthony characterized himself with his children as if he were a vieczy himself. He wasn't. So how did he fit into this?

"That means we have a chance against them!" Andrew cried.

"A chance for a peaceful ending!" Lizzie beamed.

"No," Patrick said. "It's means we've got a good chance we'll be massacred as soon as they figure it out and get their focus under control." Their faces — and hopes — dropped instantly.

"Killing them was our last resort, and now we can't even do that!"

Andrew screamed. He banged his fist against the marble so hard a piece of the ancient rock severed under the blow. This was the first time he'd lost his temper.

"We have to find them again," I said. I could feel heat rising in my face, an uncomfortable mix of excitement and fear of Everett's reaction of what I was about to say. "We need to put all our resources into finding a way to kill a Survivor."

They all went silent.

Everett scoffed. "You mean, now we have a reason to let you put all our resources into finding a way to kill y-..." he paused and looked up at everyone, "kill Survivors." He wouldn't look at me though. This had landed in the exact place he hoped it wouldn't.

He'd understood what I had: that by determining how to kill the rogue Survivors, we'd have to find a way to kill me.

I ignored him. "We have no choice. Even if we don't look for them now, even if we choose not to kill them now, we have to be prepared for the war. What happens when they come bounding over those city walls like in Anthony's vision, and they kill all of us?"

"How do we even know they can kill us?" Sarah asked.

"Or that they even would if they could?" Lizzie asked. I looked at her pale blue eyes, the fair snow-kissed hair in waves framing her face. She looked so young to be so old. She couldn't bear the thought that the day would come when any Survivor would hurt another.