Her hand is locked firmly in his own: it is warm and tangible. His fingers are stronger than they look: she thought they might be as lithe and ethereal as the rest of him.
"Where are we going?" Josette whispered with concern as he dragged her persistently at a dizzying speed through unfamiliar roads.
He did not answer, but reached a chain-link fence, and stopped. On the other side of it was an abandoned church with roof falling in. "Climb," he whispered fiercely. "Go as quickly as you can. I'll hand you up as far as I can."
"But what about you?" Josette questioned, but he made no reply, firmly hoisting her up. She grasped the links and climbed as well as she could. She reached the top and looked down to see if the man followed her, but he was nowhere to be found.
She gasped. She didn't even know his name to call for him.
Sent from Amanda's Treo @-'-,--