Free Riser (Teen Horror/Science Fiction) (Book #1 in The Riser Saga) ((Volume 1)) by Becca C. Smith Page A

her.
“Anything, Mom, just let me go help you!”
“Promise me you won’t bring me back.”
I caught my breath. And that’s when I knew; she was really dying. “The thumping…” my voice broke from emotion.
“It will end soon.” She tried to comfort me.
I knew in that instant that the thumping was her heart beat. It was the only thing that would tie us together. No! I could barely keep it together.
She just nodded and then smiled through tear-filled eyes. “I love you, Chelsan. Promise me.”
I could only nod in response.
“You must keep safe. Your Grandfather will be coming, and he will try to kill you. You were meant to die today. He won’t stop until we’re both dead.”
THUMP!
And I was back under the willow tree.
I gasped for breath as I was slammed back into my body. The pain to my head was gone as soon as I returned. And I screamed for it to come back again. The alternative was far more excruciating. She was dead. My mother was truly dead. I could feel it with that last thump of life.
Feeling returned to my body and I ran as fast as I could through the willow branches, across the field of flowers and straight into…
…A nightmare of unimaginable proportions.
The whole park looked as though it had been hit by a tornado. Trailers were smashed, overturned, destroyed beyond recognition. The green smoke was gone, dissipated by the time I got back to the park.
But only my eyes could see the most terrifying picture of all. A sea of swirling black holes of everyone I ever knew and loved. My heart nearly stopped when I saw her just as I left her in the vision, my mother, lying dead amidst her demolished garden. A garden I had kept flourishing and alive for the last ten years. I couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t stand to see her like that.
I raced past the twisted metal and corpses to reach her side.
All I had to do was reach into her chest and bring her back. She’d be with me, forever. I couldn’t live without her. I didn’t want to. I needed her.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I have to,” I whispered in her ear.
Every part of me was fighting the compulsion to break my promise and use my gift, but grief does terrible things to people and I couldn’t think clearly anymore. In less than an hour I lost everything. She was my everything. I could barely breath. I could barely function. And then I did it.
Mom’s eyes fluttered open and she looked at me. There was nothing there, just emptiness.
Her soul was gone.
I had violated her soul.
I immediately dropped my connection with her black hole and she fell to the ground once more. I quickly turned my head and puked all over the smashed petunias. I collapsed in a heap on top of her and something inside of me broke. I couldn’t stop crying. My eyes felt like they would swell shut from the amount of tears pouring out of them.
Then I heard a noise that disturbed the agonizing silence. Sirens and the whizzing of hover-cars were coming my way. I peered up from Mom’s body to see what looked like a swarm of over-sized bees heading straight for the trailer park. It was the press and emergency crews. I looked down at the crushed flowers and plants of my mother’s garden and I knew she wouldn’t want anyone to see her pride and joy like this. I concentrated as hard as I could in my heartache and slowly began to repair every inch of Mom’s legacy. I made every flower bloom whether it was their season or not, every tomato was the richest red, yellow and orange, every peapod was bursting with marble–sized peas, every tulip, petunia and azalea were the most vibrant colors imaginable. By the time I was finished the garden was more gorgeous that it had ever been.
The onslaught of hover-cars reached their crescendo as they came to a halt a hundred feet outside the park. In a matter of seconds, I was surrounded by reporters, paramedics, firemen and police. Cameras flashed, people’s voices melded into one loud shout, the buzz of hover-gurneys moving around from victim to victim. My