Chosen (The Chosen Few Trilogy #1) Read Online Free Page A

she would sho w happy-face on the outside and save the real hurt for when she was alone.
    I looked away from a TV full of doom and gloom towards w hat we called our Victory Wall . My part of the Wall con sisted of prints I’d sold over ten years. If it didn’t sell, it didn’t get framed. The other, larger, part of the wall was full of Lucy’s squash trophies and pictures of her receiving awa rds. Lucy’s part was now encroach ing on my part. The daughter starting to outdo the father. The wall boosted her confidence. Almost every day I caught her admiring a photo or a sparkling trophy.
    But tonight I don’t think the wall was giving either of us much inspiration. Major event s were shaking the world . The stampede at Madison Square Garden, something about a roller coaster collapse at Sea World, a deva stating earth tremor in Costa Rica .
    In my house, in my chair, in this c ity hundreds of miles away from any scenes of destruction, I began to feel unsettled.
    I’d witnessed something odd during our celebration meal last night at Mauricio’s, but dismissed it when I heard about Lucy. Huge r ats had teemed through the r estaurant, through our legs, attracted to a corner full of shadow s where all natural law said there should be light .
    I had never seen so many people so scared, so many witnesses speaking with such fear. And now there was something going on in Miami; something about a bunch of college kids being held hostage by a mad-woman. And someone said a bomb was involved. A wave of terror was sweeping the world.
    “What ’s going on, Dad?” Lucy asked , her first words in twenty minutes. “Are we safe?”
    I frowned . Could it be that even more insignificant occurrences were being lost beneath the information deluge that accompanied the devastating events? For a moment I felt glad that my partner, Tom Acker, was looking after the new business whilst I spent time with Lucy.
    I nodded. I flicked off the TV before it sent us both reeling tow ards deeper depths of despair . “Take away?”
    “Cool.”
    “Preference?”
       “Mmm, maybe Italian. Mauricio’s?”
    “Maybe not,” I shuddered.  “I thought Oscars was your favorite ?” And I knew they had a two-for-one deal on deliveries before seven.
    She leapt for the phone. “Quick, before he changes his mind!” Lucy’s presence filled the house, and it felt good. I shook my head. Yesterday she lay in a hospital bed; today the event was past history. 
    “Bring it on,” I said to the guy who answered the phone. “Everything we can have on that two-for-one deal. Garlic bread, beer-”
    “Wine?” Lucy interrupted. “Let’s not forget who’s sixteen in a few days.”
    I coughed. “N ot in this decade .”
    Lucy gave me a narrow-eyed look.
    “ Diet Pepsi, ” I said. “For the tweenie. No ice.”
    “Loser,” Lucy grumbled, but it sounded good to my ears.
    I put down the phone and smiled . “The treasure hunt went well, Luce. I don’t think we lost any tourists.”
    “Shame.”
    I ached inside. It had been an all-or-nothing business gamble, and Lucy had known. I had ploughed our remaining money into it. I wasn’t the successful type. I was sure this business, sooner or later, would fold. Like my much loved photography career. Like my marriage. . .
    The meal arrived, steaming hot. She grabbed my beer and downed a mouthful before I could get a hand on it. I gave her a pretend glare, but couldn’t keep the twinkle from my eyes, and it was like we were a normal father and daughter for about three minutes, which was when a knock at the door made us both sit up. Outside were two serious-looking guys in suits.
    “ Mr. Logan?” The taller one spoke .
    My instant though t was of Raychel, and a rush of fear swept through me. Then I thought they might be here because of Lucy’s recent hospital visit. Either way, my heckles ro se.
    “ Mr. Logan?”
    “Yes.”
    “My name is Ryan. My colleague here is Geoffrey Giles. May we have a moment of your