No Survivors Read Online Free PDF

body trembling. “Don’t—” he said.
    It was his last word before Deborah froze him in place.
    She pulled herself to her feet, grabbed the bag with her mother’s spell book, and stepped past Lemuel. His eyes were frozen wide open, as was his mouth. His body was tensed, as if ready to attack.
    But he couldn’t move.
    The spell won’t last long, Deborah thought. I must hurry to my house, gather my belongings—and be gone.
    She poked her head out of the barn door.
    The night air felt cool and fresh on her face. A crescent moon floated above the trees, on its side like a winking eye.
    It reminded Deborah of the blue crescent moon on her temple. The birthmark that had convinced the superstitious villagers that she was a witch.
    I was innocent then, she thought. But not any longer.
    No one in sight. She saw lamp lights flickering in the windows of houses.
    Her eyes alert for any sign of danger, Deborah crept away from the barn. As she ran across Lemuel’s field, the crescent moon in the sky appeared to move with her.
    The cloak and hood wrapped her in darkness, blacker than the night. She ran silently past houses and farms.
    Loud voices made her stop.
    Have I been seen?
    No. The voices came from Arnold Wester’s house. The Wester boys were arguing again. Deborah could hear their father ordering them to be silent at the dinner table.
    A cat cried somewhere up ahead. Moments later Deborah saw a black cat dart from behind a tree. On the prowl, probably for a field mouse.
    I’m not afraid of you bringing me bad luck now, cat, Deborah thought bitterly.
    I’ve had all the bad luck a person can have.
    But, of course, she was wrong.
    Her bad luck had just begun—and she had so few days left to live.

10
    Deborah let out a cry when she saw her cottage. Or what was left of it. She went running across the flat, grassy field. The hood flew back on her shoulders, the cloak floating like wings at her sides.
    The cottage was gone. One blackened stone wall remained upright on a charred floor. The rest was ruins. Burnt beams. A few melted metal lumps that might have been pots. Bits of charred fabric. Everything covered in a fine layer of ash.
    â€œHow did this happen?” she murmured. Had someone deliberately set the fire?
    She dropped to her knees in front of the black chunks of wood and shingle. “My home. Burned to the ground.”
    She pressed her hands over her eyes, as if trying to force away the ugly sight. A single tear rolled down each cheek.
    She forced herself not to cry.
    She felt dizzy—and sick.
    She got to her feet and stepped onto the area where the front room had been.
    The stone hearth was all that was left. Smoke had blackened the stone.
    â€œI can’t stay here,” Deborah murmured. She turned away from the house and then turned back again. She remembered her mother hiding something beneath the floorboards of the front room. Deborah never knew what it was. But she’d seen Katherine stuffing something beneath a loose board.
    Now she dropped to the floor and began to pull up the charred floorboards. They came up easily, cracking, splitting apart.
    Hidden beneath the floor were two books. Two more of her mother’s spell books .
    Deborah gathered them up quickly and stuffed them into the cloth bag.
    She heard the cat cry somewhere nearby. The wind suddenly picked up, howling through the trees. The pale crescent moon vanished behind a cloud.
    Throwing the bag over her shoulder, Deborah took off. Walking quickly, eyes alert, she made her way to the road that led out of the village.
    She didn’t turn around. She never looked back.
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    Deborah walked for three days. She passed through two villages and each time was tempted to stay.
    But she knew they were too close to Ravenswoode.People in those towns might have heard of her. The witch who was banished to an island.
    So she continued her journey to a new life.
    On the third evening, she came to a