by Milton Davis

The approach was critical.  Too close and they would be attacked. Too far and they would be ignored.  In the end it was a subjective decision, one that took not only skill but experience. Edward was the only one of their group that possessed both. He’d been to Atlanta and was familiar with which highways and roads were passable.  It helped that Edward possessed the Gift, but that was an advantage that no one knew, not even the terminally ill donors he considered family.

“Are you sure we’re close enough?” Ginger asked. She coughed through her face cloth, her eyes tight and tearful.

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