Read Online A Despair of Demons (Travelers, Book 1) by Cassy Campbell - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Cassy Campbell
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isomers.”
Jordan, reading
the scanner screen over Liv’s shoulder, said, “Judging by the demons’ nonreaction
to burning sand, Hell might be pretty hot.”
Connor stared
at the burns on the wall. “Let’s get back to base and let General Mace know.”
* * *
That night, Liv
had a hard time falling asleep, and when she finally did, she almost wished she
hadn’t. It was the same old nightmare. A part of her knew it, but that just
made it worse. She couldn’t change anything and she couldn’t wake up. She could
only lay helplessly while it happened all over again.
She lay on the thick quilted blanket next to
Leslie, who was blessedly free of her children this visit. Not that Liv didn’t
love her nieces and nephew, but she got so little alone-time with her sister.
The sand molded itself to cradle her, the
sun was a warm glow on her back, and the occasional breeze placed a cool kiss
at her neck. The distant unimportant sounds of children splashing and adults
yelling were buried beneath the slow ebb and roar of the waves. A small cooler
sat at the corner of the blanket, just at the edge of Liv’s vision, and she
contemplated whether it would be worth moving to get a drink.
A roar echoed through the air, and several
people screamed. Liv bolted to her knees, whipping around to scan the area.
“That was a gunshot!”
One woman’s screams continued after everyone
else’s quieted. “My baby, no, my baby, oh no, my baby!”
Liv blocked pity and terror as she popped
into a crouch, shading her eyes with her hand and systematically searching the
beach. A group of people huddled around a small still form at the water’s edge.
“Oh, God.” Leslie’s tone held
barely-contained horror.
Another shot rang out and a child playing in
the sand with a plastic bucket and shovel fell forward into her sandcastle. Liv
was looking right at her.
She grabbed Leslie’s arm to drag her along,
studying the angles as she ran crouching to the tall grass at the edge of the
beach. The shooter must be in the old ‘store,’ a little wooden shack with a
shutter that swung open for the vendor to display his wares. It had been empty
since the vendor quit and moved to Florida.
Liv held out a hand to Leslie. “Stay down.
He’s in the store. I have to get my gun.” She threw a glance at the store, then
darted in a crouch toward the parking lot, where she’d left her gun in the car.
Stupid.
Another shot rang out as she reached the
ticket booth at the entry gate. More screams. Ruthlessly, she forced down
helplessness and put on a burst of speed.
She reached the car and grabbed her Rogue, a
smaller version of the Sentinel she carried at the DEPOT. Another shot as she
reached her car, another as she grabbed the gun, and one more as she slammed
the car door. She raced back to the beach, oblivious to the debris on the
pavement cutting her bare feet, although she’d barely be able to walk the next
day.
She reached the gate and sped over to the
store in a crouch. She froze behind it, back to the wall, trying to breathe
silently. If he heard her out here, he’d blast her right through the flimsy
plywood. She crept toward the door and grasped the handle.
She threw the door open and leapt through
with her gun sweeping to cover the room. “Freeze!”
She’d been holding her breath, and sucked in
air as she saw only empty shadows. He had fled.
Liv heaved out
of sleep gasping. The dark and empty store morphed into her dark and empty
bedroom, dragging her off the beach and back into reality. Four children had
died that day, and two more had been severely wounded. She hadn’t been able to
stop him, all because she’d left her stupid purse in the car. And they hadn’t
caught him that day.
Her permits to
carry were all in order, and although the police were flummoxed as to why a
neuroscientist would carry a concealed weapon, they could find nothing with
which to charge her and eventually allowed her
Jordan, reading
the scanner screen over Liv’s shoulder, said, “Judging by the demons’ nonreaction
to burning sand, Hell might be pretty hot.”
Connor stared
at the burns on the wall. “Let’s get back to base and let General Mace know.”
* * *
That night, Liv
had a hard time falling asleep, and when she finally did, she almost wished she
hadn’t. It was the same old nightmare. A part of her knew it, but that just
made it worse. She couldn’t change anything and she couldn’t wake up. She could
only lay helplessly while it happened all over again.
She lay on the thick quilted blanket next to
Leslie, who was blessedly free of her children this visit. Not that Liv didn’t
love her nieces and nephew, but she got so little alone-time with her sister.
The sand molded itself to cradle her, the
sun was a warm glow on her back, and the occasional breeze placed a cool kiss
at her neck. The distant unimportant sounds of children splashing and adults
yelling were buried beneath the slow ebb and roar of the waves. A small cooler
sat at the corner of the blanket, just at the edge of Liv’s vision, and she
contemplated whether it would be worth moving to get a drink.
A roar echoed through the air, and several
people screamed. Liv bolted to her knees, whipping around to scan the area.
“That was a gunshot!”
One woman’s screams continued after everyone
else’s quieted. “My baby, no, my baby, oh no, my baby!”
Liv blocked pity and terror as she popped
into a crouch, shading her eyes with her hand and systematically searching the
beach. A group of people huddled around a small still form at the water’s edge.
“Oh, God.” Leslie’s tone held
barely-contained horror.
Another shot rang out and a child playing in
the sand with a plastic bucket and shovel fell forward into her sandcastle. Liv
was looking right at her.
She grabbed Leslie’s arm to drag her along,
studying the angles as she ran crouching to the tall grass at the edge of the
beach. The shooter must be in the old ‘store,’ a little wooden shack with a
shutter that swung open for the vendor to display his wares. It had been empty
since the vendor quit and moved to Florida.
Liv held out a hand to Leslie. “Stay down.
He’s in the store. I have to get my gun.” She threw a glance at the store, then
darted in a crouch toward the parking lot, where she’d left her gun in the car.
Stupid.
Another shot rang out as she reached the
ticket booth at the entry gate. More screams. Ruthlessly, she forced down
helplessness and put on a burst of speed.
She reached the car and grabbed her Rogue, a
smaller version of the Sentinel she carried at the DEPOT. Another shot as she
reached her car, another as she grabbed the gun, and one more as she slammed
the car door. She raced back to the beach, oblivious to the debris on the
pavement cutting her bare feet, although she’d barely be able to walk the next
day.
She reached the gate and sped over to the
store in a crouch. She froze behind it, back to the wall, trying to breathe
silently. If he heard her out here, he’d blast her right through the flimsy
plywood. She crept toward the door and grasped the handle.
She threw the door open and leapt through
with her gun sweeping to cover the room. “Freeze!”
She’d been holding her breath, and sucked in
air as she saw only empty shadows. He had fled.
Liv heaved out
of sleep gasping. The dark and empty store morphed into her dark and empty
bedroom, dragging her off the beach and back into reality. Four children had
died that day, and two more had been severely wounded. She hadn’t been able to
stop him, all because she’d left her stupid purse in the car. And they hadn’t
caught him that day.
Her permits to
carry were all in order, and although the police were flummoxed as to why a
neuroscientist would carry a concealed weapon, they could find nothing with
which to charge her and eventually allowed her
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