Free Extraordinary by Amanda McGee Page A

arms.
    “Alex,” Sadie said, clenching my arm.
    Spinning around, I saw two green lights flickering in the distance. Between the trees and heavy shade, the glow was motionless, resembling two eyes staring back at us.
    “I can’t tell what it is,” Sadie said, squinting.
    The sun had begun its decent into the horizon thereby providing little illumination. Our path was revealed but what hid behind the unusual glow remained a mystery.
    Sadie’s petite body slid closer to mine. Her tanned shoulder a stark contrast against my pale arm though our apprehension was matching.
    “Umm, let’s go back to the house,” I said, turning her away from the discomforting glow.
    “No way! Let’s see what it is.”
    Before I could process Sadie’s gutsy statement, she had already started to jog towards the lights.
    “Sadie!” I said, chasing after her.
    Sadie stopped mere feet from the tree line that veiled the mysterious source of the illumination. She stared into the two lights as if she were in a trance. Panicked, I waved my hand in front of her face.
    “Sadie! Are you insane?”
    “It’s not going to hurt us. You would’ve had a vision.”
    “Not necessarily. Maybe it just hasn’t decided to kill us yet?”
    “It’s gone!” Sadie gasped.
    “Good, let’s go. This is a lot for one day.”
    My curiosity convinced me to take one last glance but there was still no sign of the unusual lights. A shuffle of leaves and crackle of limbs propelled me into a frantic power walk, pushing Sadie to speed up.  For all we knew it could have been large fireflies. We traveled the rest of the way home in a full-on jog just in case.
    “I know we’ve been through a lot but running from an insect is by far the most shameful,” I said, laughing as we scurried into the house, slowing only to lock the door.
    “I could have hypnotized it,” she said, waving her hands around like she intended to karate chop the kitchen counter.
    “Whatever you say. I’m going to shower.”
    Halfway up the staircase, an onslaught of indecipherable premonitions bombed my brain. The dizziness devoured me. I collapsed onto the step and slid down the rest until I reached the floor at the bottom of the stairs. Almost as soon as the flashes started, they ended.
    “Are you all right?” Sadie yelled, skating on her knees to my side. “What just happened?”
    “Too fast,” I mumbled.
    “What was?”
    “I had more flashes,” I responded. “It was too much, too fast.”
    Sadie managed to lift me to my feet. With her scrawny arms wrapped me, she virtually carried me to the couch without so much as a grunt.
    “This one was different,” I said. “I didn’t feel any pain or fear. I couldn’t make out any of the images. It was like it wasn’t sure what it wanted to show me.”
    I focused on keeping the room from spinning while Sadie bolted upstairs to get a wet towel. The deafening noises the vision had left in my head were filtered out by the sound of her tiny feet bouncing off the hardwood and her chatter. I concentrated on Sadie’s voice rambling from upstairs and prayed the blurry vision was a temporary side effect of my newfound enchantment, and not a failed warning.
    That was when I heard the squeak of a rocking chair as it skidded across the front porch.
     
     
     
    ****
     
     
     
    Chapter Seven
     
    “Sadie,” I whispered.
    “What is it?” she answered from the top of the stairs. “Lie down before you fall again!”
    “Be quiet! Come here.”
    She tiptoed over to me, her turtle-paced movements being the only way she could remain silent or a sign that she was afraid of what I was about to say. Today had been full of terrifying moments so I couldn’t blame her.
    Pointing to the front door, I mouthed: I think someone is out there.
    We inched toward the exit arm in arm. Our feet in synch and our bodies so close, I wondered who was carrying whom.
    My vision had been unclear; in fact, I wasn’t certain it could be defined as a vision at all.