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9780064472708

The Keepers of the Flame

by ;
  • ISBN13:

    9780064472708

  • ISBN10:

    0064472701

  • Edition: 1st
  • Format: Paperback
  • Copyright: 2003-09-11
  • Publisher: HarperCollins Publications
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List Price: $7.99

Summary

They have found others. Five years after a deadly plague killed all the Grown-ups, the world's population has nearly vanished. But a group of children have survived and forged a new family, a new life, and together traveled up the coast of Florida, looking for answers. To their shock, they've found a group of adults, the only Grown-ups they've seen for years, living in an abandoned shopping mall. It's a world the travelers had almost forgotten -- cupcakes, clean clothes, adults to depend on. But something is terribly wrong. The family must find the truth before it's too late.

Supplemental Materials

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Excerpts

Fire-us #2: The Keepers of the Flame

Chapter One

Cory stood spear straight, with her arms out from her sides and her chin lifted. She had a limited view through the open doorway, but every time she tried to shift to see around the corner, get a different angle, one of the women tuttutted or snapped, "Stand straight. No fidgeting," and she had to resume her awkward, uncomfortable pose. So she had to be content with the view she had: the atrium of the mall with its holiday village display, the false snow glistening on the roof of Satan's workshop, the imps poised with hammer raised or saw pulled back, ready to do the devil's work. The setting sun streamed in through the skylights and the great glass wall of Entrance West, casting everything in the reddish glow of hellfire. From where Cory stood on the carpeted footstool in Danielle's Bridal Shoppe the dust and dirt mingled with the fake snow was invisible.

"Isn't she going to be beautiful?"

"I'm so proud. My heart's beating like crazy!"

Cory's arms jerked, almost of their own will, and she winced as a pin jabbed her shoulder blade.

"Corinthians 1:19, hold still. By the Flame, you're so twitchy!"

"Sorry."

Casting her eyes down, Cory looked at the heads of the three women circling around her, watched them turning up the hem of the white gown, pinning darts along her waist, tucking and gathering. They were like ... she searched her memory. They were like construction workers welding together a steel building. That was what she felt like: rigid, welded, immovable.

"Most girls are so honored they hold perfectly still, as though being Chosen had turned them into precious statues," Proverbs 3:21 remarked. She tipped her face up to give Cory an admiring look. "Which is what you're going to be. A beautiful, precious statue -- "

"Or a vessel," mumbled Exodus 21:2 around a mouthful of pins. "That's really more like it."

Proverbs 3:21 beamed up at Cory, and her eyes had a thirsting, almost beseeching light. "That's right, a vessel. Did your Visioning show you how wonderful it would be? Your destiny?"

"Well, I'd have to say -- " Cory began.

"Of course it did!" Psalm 12 interrupted from behind Cory's legs. "They always do!"

"And what did you see, exactly?" Proverbs 3:21 urged, her expression becoming even more avid.

Cory used Psalm 12's impatient hand on her back as an excuse to turn her face up again and break eye contact with the women.

Her Visioning had shown her -- darkness, confusion. Cory was still baffled and unhappy about it. She couldn't bring herself to admit to anyone that it wasn't the Visioning they all seemed to expect her to have.

It was supposed to have been a simple thing. At least,that was how it was explained to her before she left theCrossroads for her journey to East Florida PrecisionIndustrial Lenses. First came the long, empty-handedwalk in the sun down Highway 201 to the factory, where she was to fast, pray, meditate, and ask for her Visioning. For a few hours, at least, it had seemed exciting, exalting, almost beautiful. The strange ricocheting light that bounced around inside the factory as the sun moved across the sky shot fire into the lenses, breaking the light into rainbows.

Then the night had come, and with it the hunger and thirst. But even then, Cory had kept true to her training and stayed on her knees and tried to rededicate her heart. Whenever she felt herself tiring or wanting to lie down or thinking of foolish things, she forced herself to pray even harder. No water, no food, no sleep: that was the only way to purify the body and spirit enough to allow the Visioning to happen.

When the sun had risen, filling the factory with light again, it wasn't so beautiful and exciting anymore but painful. Cory had cried some, and doubted, but continued her vigil. Visioning would never come to a frivolous heart, and without Visioning, she would never know her path.

Pain is woman's lot -- she had been told that countless times. So she had acknowledged the pain, laid down her weapons, and let it come in.

At last, on the third night, the Visioning happened. Cory wasn't aware of the moment when she had passed from this world into the Visioning. Maybe she had been walking around inside the factory without realizing it, and at first she thought she had wandered outside.

The road was dark, and the landscape was flat and shadowed. There was no line between the sky and the ground. There was no horizon. There was only the road Cory walked down. Often, she stubbed her toe against something in the path or tripped over some hard obstruction like a rock, but every time she tried to look directly down, her sight was obscured by some filmy material, like gauze, and it shifted and folded before her eyes so that she couldn't make out what she was walking over. Nothing grew at the sides of the road, but something like brambles kept snagging her long dress. It was exhausting, as though the road pitched steeply upward instead of running flat and straight into the featureless horizon.

As she continued forward, the snags became more frequent, and she stumbled more often than not on the stony path. If only she could see what was there! And then something seemed to pass over her head like a heavy downbeat of wings, and a voice said, Take off the veil.

Cory put her hands to her face. She was covered with layers of gauze, and she tore at it, layer after layer shredding in her hands as she hurried onward.

The rocks in the path were bones and grinning skulls. This was what she had been stumbling over, and what her dress had been catching on. Panicked, she looked up...

Fire-us #2: The Keepers of the Flame. Copyright © by Jennifer Armstrong. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.

Excerpted from The Keepers of the Flame by Jennifer Armstrong
All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.

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