Voracious Read Online Free PDF

seeing another soul for days or weeks, sang to her like a lullaby. She couldn’t wait to get out there.
    George stood up and slid into the booth next to her. Putting his arms around her, he pulled her close. Several people gasped when they saw him daring to get so close to her. Over his shoulder, Madeline whispered, “This is going be great. Just me, the mountains, wildlife, and plenty of fresh air.” Now, more than ever, she craved it. A vision quest. That’s what she needed.
    He pulled back, his hand still on her arm. “I’ll know where you are. If anything happens, I’m coming to find you.”
    “Deal,” she said. “But I’ll be fine.”

On the mountain
    DARKNESS . Freezing.
    The murmur of cascading water.
    Reality bit at her cut and bruised body, enveloped her in ice, washed around her, cold and unrelenting.
    Too tired to open her eyes, she couldn’t remember where she was. Her face lay against something smooth and cold. Her arms felt wedged. Something held her steady as the frigid water curled around her, robbing her body of its last bit of heat. With that warmth had bled all sensation, and all she could do was bob on the current.
    Water. She remembered water.
    A great wall of water.
    And then …
    Blackness.
    Madeline exhaled deeply. She was so tired. At least her head was above water now. She could just breathe and lie there. But she wanted to sleep. Sleep sounded so good. To rest.
    Madeline lay still and let the water toss her about as she breathed in the crisp air.
    Somewhere, in the back of her mind, some distant voice nagged at her, told her to pull herself out of the glacial meltwater, but she just couldn’t muster the energy to move.
     
     
    Water, spiraling, no air to breathe.
    Hands clutching at her, dragging her down.
    Darkness.
    Blood. A dark-haired woman with sightless, staring eyes, throat gashed open, spilling blood. A man struck down in a street, the blood-soaked back of his long coat shredded violently. A feeble old man cowering in a corner, shrieking in terror—
    Darkness.
    Hands. Pulling her out of the river.
    A room full of spinning dancers in ball gowns. A cobble-stone street filled with the sound of clopping horse hooves. A lone candle burning atop a small piano. An opera house filled with the music of Mozart.
    Darkness.
    Faint sun on her eyelids.
    A deep, kind voice: “Hey, you’re awake. I was worried. That’s quite a nasty cut on your head.”
    “Cut?” Madeline said groggily. All she could feel was cold. Deep, numbing cold. She brought a tentative, shaky hand to her forehead, but her hand was so numb it felt like it was asleep. She thought she detected water on her head, but it was slick, like blood. And if it was blood, her head was covered in it. “Nothing bleeds like a head wound,” came her mother’s voice from somewhere inside her, echoing from a time when things were much easier.
    “You’re drenched through. You need dry clothes and fast. I didn’t want to move you—didn’t know if you’d broken anything. But you could be hypothermic. Are your thoughts clear?”
    Madeline managed to open her eyes. They came open with a wet sucking sound, and cold water leaked into them from the corners of her eyes. As things came into focus, Madeline saw the stranger kneeling beside her. He was slightly older than her, maybe in his mid-twenties; semi-short, wavy blond hair; a slightly scruffy ill-shaven face with angular features; and haunting green, green eyes.
    He left her side then. The first thing she checked, body moving stiffly, was that she still wore her bracelet with its precious silver box securely latched. She did, and it was. She also felt the weight of her pocket knife in her pocket. She hadn’t lost everything. She lay blinking in the fading sunlight, blissfully warm on her face. He returned a moment later with a first aid kit. Quickly he withdrew a silver emergency blanket and laid it over her, though she couldn’t feel the difference.
    She tried to move, tried