The dawn had finally broken and the light poured over the El Dorado Wilderness pan. The heat had already begun to pulsate from on high and hinted at the blazing dry that would accompany the summer day. Fauna scurried under rocks to hide from the unfriendly sun, her rays shining down and baking the stone and salt dirt. 

Jason stood there, in the shadow of his now very giantess mother, and smiled. It had worked. The formula, the reaction. The set of chemical principles that had heretofore been unattainable. He had been able to alter matter with still retaining form and function, something before thought only theoretical by even the most esoteric of physicists and chemists. 

Even more amazing than the bending of physics had been the creature upon which it was wrought- Sarah, now a mighty giant. Young, beautiful, wholesome. Her full body that had all at once carried many burdens, now free in its new size. How he admired her- her scale now made every problem they had- money, tuition, education- seem so small and insignificant in comparison. How small it all seemed- and he wasn't even the one who now stood as a colossus. 

A beautiful, gorgeous colossus at that. 

He thought on that- soon the city would know, the entire world, would know her name. Her warm blue eyes. Comely blonde locks. The cute way her nose crinkled and how she wiggled her hips as she walked or was pleased by something.

At least, these two would know.

Around behind an enormous white hand, a cackle echoed in the flat, and he smiled. Rounding the pillar-like digits was Clare, wide eyed in wonder at this marvel. Taking care to watch her footing, she reached out, grabbed a pinker finger that was taller than her, and swung around like some kid at a playground. She cackled again in delight, muttering to herself 'wow, wow' as she surveyed her elder sibling.

"She really is my big sister now," she mused. 

Jason smiled at the thought, seeing the humor in it. It was always like his aunt to poke fun or find frivolity in such serious matters (this would amount to at least a page or two in every physics and chemistry and biology and history textbook on planet earth), and for that she had endeared herself to him (not that being the cool auntie hadn't done that anyway). 

Jason watched her play for a moment, observing her. She had worn the same outfit for at least 24 hours now, on account of seeing her on Sunday morning (it now being Monday): a white tank top that barely held down her prodigious breasts, a pair of short shorts that put on display creamy thighs and a taut musculature (evidence of the many long years of her being a personal trainer at the athletic club), and a pair of strappy flat gladiator sandals, her smallish feet showing off ten cute and bronzed toes peeping out.

Jason had to admit, his aunt cut a dashing figure- she was quite beautiful in her own right, and only a decade or so older than him to boot. He had recalled, early in his youth, that she been a stalwart figure to him as maybe more an older sister than a mother's sibling. Perhaps by way of her nature, Sarah had always been 'mom,' but that of Clare's was, rather, unfixed. Mutable. She distinctly remembered her playing cars with him when he was three or so, she being not much older and volunteering to watch him while his mother was away at work or attending night classes. 

As a result she had quit endeared herself to him- she was there during his formative years, and informed him, if only indirectly, of the hidden and secret pleasures of desire. An equal form of herself phantomized and haunted his sexual dreams, and perhaps a bit less gave him cause to emit nocturnally. 

She was, in truth, quite beautiful in face as well- she shared the soft blue eyes of his mother and same nasal shape, and maybe even plush lips, but one thing stood all out above others- her fiery red hair, cut short to something that might have been popular in the roaring twenties, a gift from some recessive kickback in her genetics. Neither Sarah nor Clare oft talked about their family out east, but from what information they did divulge, some young upstart low-class 'Mick' from Ireland had whittled his way into the family by way of the heart of a young doe-eyed girl in their clan of WASPs. The marriage was legitimized and the baby not aborted, and that was that.

Jason caught Clare looking at him, smiling softly, and hanging by one of Sarah's now very long fingers. She crooked a smile and asked,

"You're pretty amazing, kid. Like, holy shit. You did this."

The question sounded almost accusatory, and Jason couldn't  decide if t was or not. He decided to answer plainly, affirming that, yes indeed, he had grown her.

She seemed to nod, then stepped down, only stumbling a little. She chuckled to herself, taking steps towards him, shaking her head.

"I still can't believe that this is real. I'm really seeing this. Wow."

She reached Jason and stop next to him, folding her arms and just watching her enormous sister respirate softly in the morning light. The way that she always slept. The restless unconsciousness of a chemical sleep gave way, thankfully, to an actual slumber- something for which Jason was grateful. He couldn't stand the thought of his mom not getting enough sleep- didn't help that he was probably the one that caused any restless nights. In fact, he found humor in the fact than he had caused this one, and oh so intentionally. 

Still. It was for the good, he knew. He hoped.

"Can I ask you a question," came his aunt's voice finally. He had been anticipating this. He had prepared an answer, one that he hoped would convey any sentiment he had when he first started out with this plan of his. 

"Okay."

She looked over at him, turning her head and squinting her eyes at him, as if to bore into his answers with the utmost of scrutiny. 

"Why did you do this? Why would you grow Sarah? Not yourself?"

He hadn't thought of that, to be honest. Him growing himself part, anyhow. Why not indeed? He might stride along as a giant, mother in hand, crushing any who got in his way. 

No, he thought- that was his mother's lot. What she deserved. 

He told his reasoning- all that had transpired, his eavesdropping of their conversation, his dream (his aunt stood a bit wide eyed and agape at that statement). He got passionate about, realizing only near the end of his diatribe that he had raised his voice. How upset was he! How indignant. How much love had driven him to do such acts of depravity. He said as much and yet he found himself reasonably justified, he confessed, ending with 'I don't regret any of my decisions.' 

Clare seemed to take all that in, pursing her full soft lips in a pout, which Jason found rather cute. Despite her silence and thought provocation, he still felt on edge about the statement. He sis had no idea what she would do- would she call and tell someone? The police? The national guard? The government? What could they do?

His frustration came to a head, and it boiled and seethed.

"Okaaaay," Clare finally said, placing a finger to her cheek. "But answer me one thing-"

The dam burst, and all that boiling emotion came flooding out unbidden. He had had it. Had it. Jason exploded, making Clare startle an wince back. 

"No, I'm done. I'm fucking done!" Tear started to flow from his eyes. "I'm so done with the resistance. Everything that blocks my mother from having a good life. Everything. Every shit thing that happened to her. That fucker who left her pregnant. Those asshole grandparents of mine. You with your goddamn doubt."

He flailed his arms wildly, in almost disbelief. Disbelief that such a thing could be fathomed. 

"You don't know," he said, wiping his eyes but still getting his teeth. "You don't know what it's been like all these years. You don't know what she's been trough. I refuse. I refuse to let that asshole of a boss treat her like the way he does. Fuck that guy. She's never going to be his whore. So yeah, fine- go ahead and call the cops. I don't give a fuck. Fucking do it. I don't care- she's already big and only I know the counter formula, and so she's gonna fucking stay that way. She'll wreck the shit out of this place no matter what. Fuck. I..."

Jason buried his face in his hands, suddenly and utterly exhausted by this whole ordeal. He had agonized and agonized over his actions, before and after, and though he had always known that this was the right thing to do, it had never actually set well with him- the idea had never seemed natural, notwithstanding it. Playing God, making the apex predator. 

It finally overwhelmed and got to him, and he began to sob- painful lurches that somehow released the pent up frustration he had suffered through. 

A hand touched his shoulder, and he gasped. The fingers wrapped tightly around his shoulder and gave a loving, presence asserting squeeze. Jason looked up from his cupped hands and saw his aunt, her fiery hair draping her face and smiling at him. Her eyes, a beautiful blue like his mother's, shined with wetness and regarded him with a loving gaze. 

"Oh Jason," she breathed, her arms wrapping around him.

She held him a long while, she feeling his tears wet her white tank top strap. She squeezed and squeezed, the only way an aunt or sister might, full of not just motherly nature but a real camaraderie, the feeling and pathos that hey kid, your mother went through it a long while ago, but I just got out. Let me tell you how it really is. 

"I know, honey. I know. It's hard. You love her so much, I see it. You always have. But I wasn't going to lecture you, Jason..."

He looked at her, his own dark eyes locking with his aunt's. Clare pushed him gently to her front and grabbed his hands.

"You... Weren't?" He asked dumbly. She cooked her head cutely and smiled at him. 

"No, kid. I was actually, uh..." Clare bit her lip and dug her toe into the ground, the wave of embarrassment just now washing over her. 

"I was gonna ask if you had anymore of that stuff left for me."  

-------------------

Like a hot blow dryer, Sarah thought. Ever since she moved out here to the desert, that's what she thought the Las Vegas atmosphere and climate felt like. A hot, ever on blow dryer.

She placed arm over her still closed eyes, noting with dismay that she had fallen asleep last night on the couch.

Last night.

"Oh, look, Jason- she's waking up."

When did Clare get here?

Well, no matter, she supposed. Maybe she let herself in this morning before work- she often did that, Sarah had found. 

A thought came to her- what if she was here and she... Knew about last night? Would Jason have told her what had happened? She didn't think so, but the possibility was still there- that, and given the fact Clare was here, now, at a very unexpected hour...

Sarah shifted in nervousness, bringing her foot up and raising her knee. The ground below ground and felt like her was pushing gravel around.

That couldn't be right. And her foot was... 

She flicked it, feeling the weight of the shoe she now wore.

"Jason?" Her voice warbled out, suddenly more fearful than confused. What was going on? 

"Mom!" She sighed relief. His voice was there, still strong and so much like his father's, but somehow... Distant. Far away. 

"Honey, whe..." She opened her eyes when she felt the shadow pass over her- the sun, still on its long elliptical ride across the heavens, suddenly darkened and she knew, with that instinctual panic that accompanied proximity, that someone was over her. 

Before her was a vision- a fiery goddess with matching short hair and a smile that cut looked down at her either the sun shining behind her like a halo. 

"Clare? Why are we outside?"

The woman cocked her head and squinted her eyes playfully.

"Hiya, sis. Glad to see you're awake."

"Hi, mom!" Came that distant voice again. Sarah was about to look around her and turn away from the deity-like countenance of her sister when she saw something... Wriggling.  Her eyes, still adjusting to the morning grog and shifting shafts of sunlight, blinked and squinted.

It wriggled again, and this time Sarah was able to place the movements at her sisters breasts, just inside the tight cleavage that was afforded by her white shirt. 

"Clare, you've got... Oh my god."

It was her son. Her son simply sat there in her sister's breasts, one arm propping him up so as to not let him slip down further, the other waving his arm trying to direct attention. He was... Tiny! Tiny, small like a little bug. He couldn't have been more than a couple of inches tall. Why? Why in the world?

Sarah gasped and put her hands to her mouth, resisting the urge to reach out and grab at him. She blinked, once twice thrice, unable to accept the image she was seeing. Was that really her son?

"Jason, wh-wh-what happened t-t-to you? Why are you so tiny?"

Clare chuckled, shaking her head. She reached up a hand and placed it next to her breasts, allowing for a platform to be next to where Jason was. Then, realizing that he couldn't climb out, she giggled and plucked him up between two fingers, eliciting a whimper from his mother, a sad little noise with an accompanying reach. 

Clare held Jason out, his feet dangling and waving like he was having fun. Sarah bit her lip and held her two hands out, palms up, and placed them under her tiny little boy. 

Clare carefully set him down, continuing to lean down and watch him stumble with his mother's movements and finally gain his feet. 

"Jason," she whimpered again, swallowing the swelling lump in her throat. "How in... How in God's name did you get this way?"

Jason decided to sit down, cross legged and held his hands in his lap. He loved this, and had a hard time keeping his breathing hinged and his growing erection undetected. This was even more exciting when Clare had all but shoved him into her breasts without her even announcing. He relished the feeling of being held in those hands, so far up yet still so safe. 

Safe. Safe in the hands of his goddess. 

He looked up at his mother, her face welling with tears. The prospect, he supposed, of seeing her own son in her hands must've been terrifying indeed. Still, he was sure that it would work out in the end, and he was sure that yes, he had in fact done the right thing. 

"I didn't, mom- you did. Look around."

The little confused brow cock came then, Sarah seeming to ponder and chew on the words she said. Still, it was with that slow and utter creeping feeling that Sarah began to look around at her surroundings, and noticed something quite different.

The world still looked the same, yes- the ground annoys rocks still jutting and pressing into her delicate skin that covered her knees. The way the gravel crunched and shifted under the toe of her shoe. The heated air blast in past her in the atmospheric corridor, filling her lungs with the white and acrid smell of desert. 

But the scale. The scale of it all.

"Just think, Sarah," Clare began, a wide smile scratched over her mouth, her two blue eyes open with narrowed pupils, "we can do... Anything. Anything at all."

Sarah had the sinking feeling in her stomach, the one that told you the truth of something before even the objective fact was apparent. It was only when Sarah's eyes lighted upon Clare's Jetta that the final piece was put into place for her.

No, she knew, her son wasn't tiny- and this for which she felt a bitter relief- she, and she supposed, her sister...

They were huge.

The prospect was dizzying, to be honest- the realization had brought the myriad of emotions that, as far as Sarah could tell, generally spelt... Well, bad.

"How... What..." She stammered, looking back and forth to her son and sister. 

"W... Why? How? Jason, how did you do this? Why? How, how big are we?"

"A hundred and fifty feet, give or take?" Piped Clare helpfully. Sarah only grimaced at her, then gave the look to son, who shrugged.

"I used the formula you gave me," he said, a little meekly.

"What? That I gave you?" 

"Well, it's, uh... Complicated. But, hey, that doesn't matter- you're okay. I'm sorry, mom, really, I am, for all that stuff last night. The wine and stuff. But listen- you asked me why, why did I do, this, right?" He swallowed and cleared his throat, staring intently into the enormous blue orbs of his mother. He felt infinitesimally tiny, and it caused him to stutter a bit. 

"Mom, you..." He exhaled. He had to tell her. "I know what happened that night when you got the letter from the grant program..."

And so he told his story. His fears, his reasonings. All the anger he had, his revelation from his Mother On High. His drugging her and hefting her into the car. All of it. 

She sat there, listening. Her face was stone and he couldn't quite tell how this was going to go. 

Finally, after making the end of his little speech, he stood there, hands in his pockets. It was in her hands now. Literally. 

After a moment, she closed her eyes, and bit her lip.

"And so... You thought it was okay to turn me into a monster? Some freak of nature?"

The hardness of her words stung him bad. 

Clare, who had been standing there the whole time, herself listening and taking in his tale, interjected.

"Hey, Sarah, wait- that's not fair to Jason. He's-"

"Clare, it doesn't make it right!" Sarah shot back. "He turned us into these giants- how would that even help us in the slightest? How does that help our financial situation? God knows how many laws he broke. And you," she said, the sharpness and vitriol pouring from her mouth in a way that made Jason feel even smaller. He winced when Sarah reached down with two fingers and plucked him up, setting him not inches from her face. 

"who do you think you are, doing what you did to me last night? Jason, I am your mother! Im not... Not anything else to you. You, last night, you..."

She couldn't finish the sentence. What had happened last night, the kiss (or of what she remembered of it) both enraged and enthralled her. But no, that's... No. That's against God. A sin. Right?

Sensing that something big was coming, Clare stepped in again, this time trying to bring herself closer to her sister's face.

"Sarah, listen- he's given us something wonderful. Seriously! Think about it." Her eyes lit up. "We can do anything we want now. We can go anywhere, do anything. And no one can stop us. Can't you,"

She shook her head in disbelief, "can't you see? This is a gift, Sarah. Think about it! We're the world's first Giants. We're huge! And best of all we're not alone- we have each other," she wrapped an arm around Sarah, "and we have Jason." She grinned wolffishly at her, then scrunched her nose. "And he's right, you know... We don't have to worry about that problem boss of yours anymore."

"That's right," Jason piped up, still clutched in between two fingers. "Mom, you mean the world to me. I don't care if I can't go to college or whatever. I have you."

Sarah felt the words, felt their meaning... But still- this was too much. Tears welled in her baby blue eyes, and she set Jason down in one hand and wrapped her fingers around him. 

"Jason, you just don't understand. I can't- im not that kind of woman. I can't be that... That giant you talked about..."

"But you can suck a dick for him, right? What makes this the worse choice here, Sarah?"

The rebuttal came like a slap in the face. Sarah could hardly believe that she had heard that. Shock, then anger. And then, unbidden deposits years of Christian training and censorship, the words came flying out of her. 

The following argument, one that caused Jason to stop his ears from the noise, had only reached, in his memory, this intensity a few times in his life.

It was ugly, brutal, and words that he suspected had been flung many a time in their childhood home came out once again. Jason, still in his mother's firm grasp, had no choice but to simply stay put and endure the argument, one that might have lasted for a long while. Plus, at their size, who knew what those in the Vegas Valley might be hearing. 

Ugly. Brutal.

Distracting. 

Jason, despite stopping his ears, had been the first one to notice the truck amble its way down the gravel path that he in his car had taken not a few hours past. 

It had busted down the road at a quickened pace, but seemed to slow down on approach to the quarreling giantesses (and who wouldn't). At soon enough, it had trudged up and pulled along side the other two cars, the ropy Diesel engine cutting and ceasing from its belch of pollution from the tailpipe. 

Sarah was the second to notice the truck, stopping mid sentence after feeling Jason tap desperately on her wrapped finger. Clare, who had apparently been unfazed by her sibling's cessation of words, bellowed on her argument for a good five seconds before she realized that something else held her attention.

As all three watched the truck, Sarah had risen to her full height, keeping her son clutched tightly between her fingers. Despite all that, Jason could not help but admire... Well, his own work- how tall she was! Standing there, her feet planted firmly, she stood, he imagined, like a colossus- a mighty statue and pillar wearing a skirt and sneakers. For a moment, he was envious of the man in the truck. But not for long, he thought, being pressed against his mother's warm skin- that sort of overrode any other sort of want.

On the hood of the truck was a star emblazoned, the words 'Clark County Trooper' wrapped around it. Some local sheriff or officer doubt coming to inspect what in the holy hell he was seeing. 

Slowly, tentatively, the truck door opened with a metallic clunk and out stepped the officer. A small thing with brunette hair, the police woman kept her eyes affixed up top at the two giantesses who were now watching her intently. With a measured sort of calm, she reached back into the compartment, grabbed a cone looking thing, and softy closed the door, only once taking her eyes off of the two colossal women. 

Her boots kicking up only a minute dust that scattered to the pan wind, she brought the cone (which turned out to be a loudspeaker) to her mouth and clicked it on.

A bit of feedback, some adjustment, and the speaker cracked to life.

"I, uh..." The sound of her swallowing could be heard by the three, "I'm officer Miller, of, of... The Las Vegas... Fuck."

Th little woman trembled, tugging at Sarah's heart stings.

"Do you," she barked, continuing, "do you... Need help? Where are you, like, from? Are you guys okay?" Her eyes narrowed when she saw Jason locked in his mother's hand. "Sir? You, in the, uh hand. Are you okay?"

For the first time that day, Sarah felt the twinge of self-defense. She knew and understood that it must look like, hell, it was a strange situation. But, by God, this was her son. How dare this officer think even once about her harming him? 

The wave of motherly indignation passed when Sarah saw Clare shift her body and start walking towards the officer. Each thunderous step shook the ground, kicking up infinitely more dust than the tiny policewoman's own boots ever might've dreamed. The cars around her shook and trembled, and the tiny woman took a step back away.

It must have been a terrifying thing to witness- two sandaled feet, the skin bronzed and firm from years of physicality, crashing towards her. Each step, the worn leather of the footwear slamming into the ground, seemed to promise demise of one might have even been caught under.

"Hey, hey, officer, uh, Miller. I'm Clare." 

The officer took her eyes off the painted toes and up skyward where the once petite voice now boomed ponderously. 

"I'm from here... Well, Connecticut, I guess, but I live here now. So do they," she motioned back behind her.  

The feet stopped a good stride (Clare's, that is) away from the officer, both feet coming into line. Already spooked out of her wits, it was easy to see why she did what she did next.  As Clare leaned down to speak to the tiny ranger, the officer drew her pistol, a standard issue 9mm, and thumbed the safety off. Hands trembling, she fired two rounds helter-skelter, one missing completely the billboard face and the other burrowing itself a couple of inches (officer Miller's, that is) into Clare's skin.

The giantess reeled back, more shocked than anything, and the sympathetic light fled her eyes instantly. 

"You little bitch!"

A hand swooped down, angled, and flicked the pistol out of Miller's hands, causing the officer to scream and recoil back her now broken fingers.

She barely noticed Clare rise up, who clenched her teeth still on a rage.

"You little bitch, you shot me. You actually fucking shot me. Fucking asshole!" 

Clare raised her foot with a startling instinctuallity. The foot hovered over the woman jut a split second before it started to come down slow.

Miller, finally able to look away from her mangled digits, looked up and saw the well-worn leather sole get suddenly larger and larger. She began to scream, covering her head, when a  voice cut the air like a crack of lightning.

"Ohmygawd, Clare, no! Dont!"

The foot stopped short of just a few feet. She looked back, Sarah still clutching Jason tightly and holding her free hand out towards the woman.

"Please, Clare, don't crush her. She just... She don't know what to do."

Clare swiveled and set her foot down away from the officer. 

"But, she shot me!" Clare said, the petulant childishness of the phrase apparent even to her. 

"Yeah, but you're okay. You're fine. I saw the one bullet you, it didn't look like it went deep. You can't crush her. Why would you?"

"But she shot me," came the again weak reply. "She tried to hurt me."

"I don't care, Clare. Don't hurt her."

A scowl on her face, Clare looked back down at the tiny woman, who was on her knees trembling.

"Little ass," Clare said, lifting her foot and smiling wickedly. She brought it down hard, on the truck right behind the woman, crushing it flat and eliciting an exasperated noise from Sarah.

Giggling, and feeling rather saucy, she then reached down and plucked up the still trembling woman, who squeaked when scooped. Clare brought Miller to her face, the woman beginning to whimper when those two enormous, astronomical blue eyes clapped themselves onto her. 

"I wish that was you in there, little piggy. Oink oink. It would have felt great to squish you like the bug you are. But I wonder," she said, licking her full pink lips, "do cops taste like ham or bacon? I've always been curious."

The whimpering turned into harried little screams, the woman continuing to tremble while hanging by her arm. 

"Oh my god, please, please no!"

Her broken hand fumbled for the taser at her side opposite of the holster, but she couldn't get it undone. A pink muscly tongue reached out and dabbed at her legs, hitch she kicked wildly at the sensation.

"Yummy yummy in my tummy," Clare declared, and began to push Miller towards her open mouth.

Another hand, one less defined but no less womanly, shot out from behind and grabbed other giantess's wrist before it could place the officer inside her mouth. 

Clare gave Sarah an indignant look. 

"Goddamn it, Sarah! It doesn't matter! We're huge now, don't you get it?"

"Clare, it's not right. You can't eat her, that's murder, and you're no cannibal." A look like sudden disbelief passed her face. "I can't believe I'm even having this conversation with you! Clare, this was an accident- Jason here," she said, giving her son a squeeze, "is going to take us back to his lab and make us small again. My god, Clare, I can't believe you were actually going to eat that woman. Are you out of your mind? Are you some kind of monster?"

A sneer.

"You said it yourself. You just don't wanna acknowledge it. We're different, sis. Bugs like these," she shook the woman still in her hand, who yelped out in terror at the movement, "are below us now. Who cares if they get stepped on or eaten? No one. Not God, that's for sure. We're the gods now, I guess. And who can stop us?"

Sarah swallowed, her eyes flickering from her sister to the tiny woman she held captive. She seemed to speak to herself in her mind. Was she weighing options? Jason certainly hoped so. Finally, she furrowed her brow and frowned at her sister. 

"No. It's not right. None of this is right. You can't eat her, Clare. I... Won't let you."

That silence hung on the air like a stale smell. The pair locked eyes and Jason might've guessed something similar to this (in tone, not situation) had happened before. The defiant youngling and more sound elder. It was times like these that his mother seemed truly... Ironically, human. 

"Fine," Clare said finally, lowering the tiny woman away from her mouth and Sarah's grasp. "I'm not gonna argue with someone who can't see the truth. Heck, you can so much about this little bitch, here- she's your problem."

He flung her wrist into the air, sending the tiny woman straight up and arcing high into the air above them. Sarah gasps aloud and used her now free hand to reach up and catch her, her natural movement arresting the velocity of the airborne cop. 

By the time Sarah had caught and assessed that Miller wasn't dead, Clare had already made a b-line for the road. 

"Hey, wait! Where are you going? You can't go that way, we have to go to the UNLV campus!"

Clare dismissively laughed at her sister, waving her hand. 

"Fuck that. I'm going to Vegas. See if I can't have some fun! I don't need you for that, that's for sure. Have fun going back to being small- like Jason will let you, ha ha ha."

Sarah fumed. 

"Clare, I'll call the police! They'll arrest you!"

Again the laugh.

"Sure, yeah, go ahead and send them my way- I need breakfast anyhow."

Sarah and Jason watched their other family member walk away, Jason enthralled and his mother both furious and very worried. What more could she have done? Hurt her? Like that would help. Still, they had to do something.

Ignoring the protests from her son, and the shaking and fetal-positioned Miller in her other hand, Sarah stalked forward, following her sister towards the waking town of Las Vegas.