“What are you doing? Put me down.” His voice was tense and angry—outraged. “Where do you think you’re taking me?”
“You’ll know soon enough,” I answered, knowing that Panic began to take him.”
“Where are we? Who are you?”
“My name is Windoline. I am the angel of Black and White.”
“What’s that supposed to mean, and what do you have to do with me?” he asked. “Am I dead?”
“No.” I squeezed his hand to calm him and he relaxed.
“Am I dreaming, or is this really happening? Is this heaven?” Trevor asked—confused.
I knew he did not believe in heaven or hell.
Suddenly a prodigious roar came from below and with it came darkness. I saw terror in Trevor’s eyes and immediately I pulled him into my arms, but he struggled.
“You must allow me to hold you,” I whispered in his ear. Panic returned and the hurricane force wind nearly blew us of course. “We are in or a gale, the likes of which you have never experienced, Mr. Barlett.”
I tried to calm him in a soothing tone, just as a whirlwind funnel came at us. Without warning it flung us upside down and then sideways—my gown completely covered us from the waist up. Then we began to spin, and Trevor thought he would surely die, but it was not his time yet—he fell unconscious.