the red rain and carnage that followed, there must surely be more survivors. More kids. Hope.
A fighting chance. Maybe. If she managed to keep them all alive.
“Dweeb,” she heard his sister mutter under her breath. Emily sniffed back a tear and replaced it with a smile. The moment was about as emotionally poignant as she had ever experienced. Leave it to the kid to go and ruin it.
The moment gone, Emily concentrated on maneuvering the group along the path she’d walked earlier in the day.
With the dying sun now lost behind the far horizon, a three-quarter moon had peeked through a break in the clouds, saturating the forest in a dim silver light. At the duck pond, a white mist wafted off the water, coating the ground in an eerie fog that almost came up to Ben’s knees. The kid was fascinated by the shroud of water vapor as he moved his free hand through it.
“Pretty,” he whispered.
More like spooky, Emily thought. But then, at his age did he have any idea of just how much trouble they were all in? Ofcourse not. Emily sensed Rhiannon step closer to her. The girl looked nervous. Good. She should be, and an extra pair of nervous eyes to add to her own and Thor’s could only be a good thing.
The ducks were nowhere to be seen. Probably huddled together deep in the reeds, if they had any sense. Even Thor was more subdued, pacing alongside Rhiannon’s right side, panting gently.
The path leading up to the Jefferson place was a lot easier to negotiate thanks to the moonlight lighting the way. As the house came into view, Emily felt her pulse begin thrumming in her wrists. What if Simon wasn’t there? Worse, what if something had found him before she did?
As they topped the steps, Emily saw Simon’s car parked off to the left of the house, just beyond the corner of the garage. So he had made it this far, at least.
A shape materialized just beyond the car, and Emily let out a sigh of relief as Simon stepped out of the shadows and onto the gravel path.
He was alive.
Emily’s feeling of relief disappeared as quickly as it had arrived.
There was something wrong with Simon. The way he stood, his hands draped at his sides, his eyes wide open, staring directly at them, his mouth a thin slit, the way his chest barely seemed to move. It looked like Simon, but it just didn’t feel like Simon. His energy just felt unnatural.
She felt Ben start to move from her side toward his father. Heard his ecstatic cry of “Daddy” as he took a step closer.
“Stop!” Emily yelled, her voice like a crack of thunder in the stillness of the virgin night, her hand automatically reaching out and grabbing the little boy’s shoulder, slowing him before he could get out of her reach. “Stop,” she said again, more gently this time, as she swung the boy around and dropped down to face him. “That’s not your daddy, Ben. That’s…someone else.”
“No!” he yelled at Emily while at the same time tearing loose of her grip. He turned and sped across the grass toward Simon, his little legs eating up the ground at a frighteningly rapid pace.The spell that had grasped Emily so firmly broke; she was back in reality watching as the boy raced across the fifty or so feet separating them from Simon.
“Oh, Jesus,” she whispered, casting a quick glance over her shoulder. Rhiannon must have sensed something was not right with the scene because she seemed glued to the spot of grass she was standing on, a look of horror and confusion painted across her pale face.
“Stay here,” she ordered the girl. Then Emily was off, chasing after the kid, her feet sliding on the damp grass, searching for traction.
Simon did not move to intercept them; he stood as still as the trees behind him, his face expressionless and his hands resting flat against his thighs, like a soldier at attention.
There was maybe twenty feet left between the kid and his father when a blur of motion exploded past Emily on her right and made like a missile directly for
A fighting chance. Maybe. If she managed to keep them all alive.
“Dweeb,” she heard his sister mutter under her breath. Emily sniffed back a tear and replaced it with a smile. The moment was about as emotionally poignant as she had ever experienced. Leave it to the kid to go and ruin it.
The moment gone, Emily concentrated on maneuvering the group along the path she’d walked earlier in the day.
With the dying sun now lost behind the far horizon, a three-quarter moon had peeked through a break in the clouds, saturating the forest in a dim silver light. At the duck pond, a white mist wafted off the water, coating the ground in an eerie fog that almost came up to Ben’s knees. The kid was fascinated by the shroud of water vapor as he moved his free hand through it.
“Pretty,” he whispered.
More like spooky, Emily thought. But then, at his age did he have any idea of just how much trouble they were all in? Ofcourse not. Emily sensed Rhiannon step closer to her. The girl looked nervous. Good. She should be, and an extra pair of nervous eyes to add to her own and Thor’s could only be a good thing.
The ducks were nowhere to be seen. Probably huddled together deep in the reeds, if they had any sense. Even Thor was more subdued, pacing alongside Rhiannon’s right side, panting gently.
The path leading up to the Jefferson place was a lot easier to negotiate thanks to the moonlight lighting the way. As the house came into view, Emily felt her pulse begin thrumming in her wrists. What if Simon wasn’t there? Worse, what if something had found him before she did?
As they topped the steps, Emily saw Simon’s car parked off to the left of the house, just beyond the corner of the garage. So he had made it this far, at least.
A shape materialized just beyond the car, and Emily let out a sigh of relief as Simon stepped out of the shadows and onto the gravel path.
He was alive.
Emily’s feeling of relief disappeared as quickly as it had arrived.
There was something wrong with Simon. The way he stood, his hands draped at his sides, his eyes wide open, staring directly at them, his mouth a thin slit, the way his chest barely seemed to move. It looked like Simon, but it just didn’t feel like Simon. His energy just felt unnatural.
She felt Ben start to move from her side toward his father. Heard his ecstatic cry of “Daddy” as he took a step closer.
“Stop!” Emily yelled, her voice like a crack of thunder in the stillness of the virgin night, her hand automatically reaching out and grabbing the little boy’s shoulder, slowing him before he could get out of her reach. “Stop,” she said again, more gently this time, as she swung the boy around and dropped down to face him. “That’s not your daddy, Ben. That’s…someone else.”
“No!” he yelled at Emily while at the same time tearing loose of her grip. He turned and sped across the grass toward Simon, his little legs eating up the ground at a frighteningly rapid pace.The spell that had grasped Emily so firmly broke; she was back in reality watching as the boy raced across the fifty or so feet separating them from Simon.
“Oh, Jesus,” she whispered, casting a quick glance over her shoulder. Rhiannon must have sensed something was not right with the scene because she seemed glued to the spot of grass she was standing on, a look of horror and confusion painted across her pale face.
“Stay here,” she ordered the girl. Then Emily was off, chasing after the kid, her feet sliding on the damp grass, searching for traction.
Simon did not move to intercept them; he stood as still as the trees behind him, his face expressionless and his hands resting flat against his thighs, like a soldier at attention.
There was maybe twenty feet left between the kid and his father when a blur of motion exploded past Emily on her right and made like a missile directly for
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