A/N: This is a short Prologue I guess you could call it, for my Bloodlines Series. It’s been a while since I updated any of the stories on here which I don’t like. There has been writing going on, just not a lot of finished chapters that I feel are up to being posted. Here is a little something to pass the time while I get my stuff together.
There was no moon that night. It made the docks darker than usual which was both a good and bad thing. Good in that the ones chasing them couldn’t see the families using the shadows to make their ways closer to the ship. Bad in that those same families couldn’t see each other or the ones chasing after them. Jumping at each strange sound, they still kept to the shadowy corners and shunned the light. They missed their warm beds and strong doors with their locks, but they couldn’t stay there anymore. Children looked toward their parents and asked in whispers why they had to leave but were shushed and told to follow as quietly as they could. If they were caught it was the gallows or worse. It was time for them all to leave and quickly.
One figure wasn’t hiding in the shadows. Quite the opposite, he was standing in the center of the lamplight straight and tall. With a gaze that seemed to pierce the darkness around him, the Patriarch of the Waite Clan stood guard. The fifteen families had made a pact to escape that night so he knew the others would make their way to him. Like moths drawn to a flame, they did. One by one he greeted and motioned them to take their places on the boat.
First to arrive was the Bartoll clan. Next, the Palsgrave and Bayley families climbed across the gangplank to the promise of safety. Not long after that the Winsor’s converged on the boat, each having taken a child and a different route to ensure their safe arrival. The Thurlow’s weren’t far behind with the Ballard’s not far behind them. Sounds of a scuffle preceded Gale and Lynde, both carrying tales of how they had seen the Herrick’s helping the Earnes’ escape a burning building but they had been unable to get the Trotter’s out. Soon the Whipple’s helped the Prentice clan limp into the light and onto the boat, all the while shaking their heads and saying the Hawkins family would not be coming. They had been caught outside their homes and dragged away into the night.
It was a long wait for the Herrick’s and Earnes’. Everyone on the ship wondered if they had suffered the same fate as the Hawkins and Trotter clans. A few hours before dawn the First Mate called out to Waite, it was time to go. Waite nodded his head but surveyed the darkness once more before he turned to cross the gangplank. The sound of small running feet made him turn back around. Out of the darkness, two young boys ran up and grabbed his hand. In surprisingly strong voices they told him their family was just behind them, please wait a little longer. After several tense moments, the elder Herrick’s appeared, helping the limping and singed Earnes’ across to the boat. Herrick’s sons gave Waite a grin and their heartfelt thanks before following along.
Finally, they could set sail and escape the ones hunting them. Taking a last look at their old home Waite said a silent goodbye and prayer for the Hawkins and Trotters. Thirteen of the fifteen families had survived. They would do more than survive if Waite had anything to say about it. They would also thrive. Their descendants would have a home where they would be able to use their Talents without fear. He and his line would see to that.