Read Online A Night Without Stars by Jillian Eaton - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jillian Eaton
Tags: Children's Books, Fantasy & Magic, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Children's eBooks, Vampires, Paranormal & Urban, Science Fiction; Fantasy & Scary Stories
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he whipped my head around and I slammed up against the side of the house. More glass fell, raining down on my shoulders. It crunched under my feet as I tried to run, but the grip on my hair was strong, and with an ugly laugh Giant Man gave a vicious yank that brought instant tears to my eyes.
My temple banged off the edge of the windowsill. Dazed and disoriented I wobbled in place, fighting the urge to vomit down the front of my shirt.
Movies make violence look simple. They make it look easy. When the hero gets punched in the jaw he might stumble, but he always gets back up. In real life, there is nothing simple or easy about pain. It hurts. It hurts so much I won’t waste time describing it because until you’ve been there, until you’ve felt the greasy slide of puke and blood backing up in your throat and the pain has numbed you all the way down to your toes, words are a waste.
“Did you think you would get away so easily?” Giant Man’s breath fanned out across my cheek. His upper body and arms were stretched out of the window and his hand was still wrapped in my hair, but his grip had loosened. I swayed drunkenly on my feet, and he laughed. “Did you think you were special? Did you believe you would be spared ? Foolish girl. No one will make it through the night.”
It’s never good to underestimate your opponent. I had underestimated Giant Man, but he’d also underestimated me. I may have been small and I may have been weak, but I was also stupid. Stupid enough to snatch up a long, sharp fragment of glass and stab it right at the middle of his big ugly face.
My makeshift weapon struck skin and deflected sideways, leaving a thin, shallow line of red in its wake. Giant Man howled and jerked back, clawing at his face with both hands.
“Travis, I’ll come back for you!” I cried, hoping he could hear me, praying he could forgive me. I thought I heard him say something, but his reply was lost to the dull ringing in my ears. I shoved away from the window. Branches slapped at my face and arms as I fought my way through them, forging a new path out to the street. When the soles of my sneakers slapped hard pavement I stopped to catch my breath.
I knew I wasn’t safe, but I couldn’t physically run until I got control of the terror. My breath came in fits and starts. Tears ran down my face, mixing with the blood that still dripped from the cut on my right cheekbone. Using the hem of my shirt I dabbed at the stinging wound. On some level I knew trying to clean a dirty cut with an equally dirty shirt wasn’t the most hygienic of solutions, but right now infection was the least of my worries.
The slamming of a door had me jolting upright. Like a deer in the crosshairs I froze in place, every muscle tightening. I backed slowly into the street, more afraid of Giant Man than being run down by a car. Not that there were any cars. Or any people.
Everything was empty. Everything was still.
At least until the screams started.
CHAPTER NINE
I Play a Game of Horse Shoes
All things considered, I was getting pretty good at running for my life. That’s something else they don’t really show enough of in horror movies. You want to survive the zombie apocalypse? Forget stocking up on food. Start jogging.
The screams chased me.
They seemed to come from every house I passed. Horrible, gut wrenching cries that begged for help, for mercy, for death. More doors slammed. Glass shattered. A baby wailed. I tried to shut out the noise but it rose up around me, a macabre symphony of the tortured.
I expected people to spill out onto the streets, but whatever gruesome fate they were suffering it seemed to be occurring strictly inside their houses.
So I ran. I pointed myself in the direction of the apartment complex and I ran like my very life depended on it, which, all things considered, it probably did.
I didn’t know what was happening, or why. All I knew is my brain was screaming RUN HOME,
My temple banged off the edge of the windowsill. Dazed and disoriented I wobbled in place, fighting the urge to vomit down the front of my shirt.
Movies make violence look simple. They make it look easy. When the hero gets punched in the jaw he might stumble, but he always gets back up. In real life, there is nothing simple or easy about pain. It hurts. It hurts so much I won’t waste time describing it because until you’ve been there, until you’ve felt the greasy slide of puke and blood backing up in your throat and the pain has numbed you all the way down to your toes, words are a waste.
“Did you think you would get away so easily?” Giant Man’s breath fanned out across my cheek. His upper body and arms were stretched out of the window and his hand was still wrapped in my hair, but his grip had loosened. I swayed drunkenly on my feet, and he laughed. “Did you think you were special? Did you believe you would be spared ? Foolish girl. No one will make it through the night.”
It’s never good to underestimate your opponent. I had underestimated Giant Man, but he’d also underestimated me. I may have been small and I may have been weak, but I was also stupid. Stupid enough to snatch up a long, sharp fragment of glass and stab it right at the middle of his big ugly face.
My makeshift weapon struck skin and deflected sideways, leaving a thin, shallow line of red in its wake. Giant Man howled and jerked back, clawing at his face with both hands.
“Travis, I’ll come back for you!” I cried, hoping he could hear me, praying he could forgive me. I thought I heard him say something, but his reply was lost to the dull ringing in my ears. I shoved away from the window. Branches slapped at my face and arms as I fought my way through them, forging a new path out to the street. When the soles of my sneakers slapped hard pavement I stopped to catch my breath.
I knew I wasn’t safe, but I couldn’t physically run until I got control of the terror. My breath came in fits and starts. Tears ran down my face, mixing with the blood that still dripped from the cut on my right cheekbone. Using the hem of my shirt I dabbed at the stinging wound. On some level I knew trying to clean a dirty cut with an equally dirty shirt wasn’t the most hygienic of solutions, but right now infection was the least of my worries.
The slamming of a door had me jolting upright. Like a deer in the crosshairs I froze in place, every muscle tightening. I backed slowly into the street, more afraid of Giant Man than being run down by a car. Not that there were any cars. Or any people.
Everything was empty. Everything was still.
At least until the screams started.
CHAPTER NINE
I Play a Game of Horse Shoes
All things considered, I was getting pretty good at running for my life. That’s something else they don’t really show enough of in horror movies. You want to survive the zombie apocalypse? Forget stocking up on food. Start jogging.
The screams chased me.
They seemed to come from every house I passed. Horrible, gut wrenching cries that begged for help, for mercy, for death. More doors slammed. Glass shattered. A baby wailed. I tried to shut out the noise but it rose up around me, a macabre symphony of the tortured.
I expected people to spill out onto the streets, but whatever gruesome fate they were suffering it seemed to be occurring strictly inside their houses.
So I ran. I pointed myself in the direction of the apartment complex and I ran like my very life depended on it, which, all things considered, it probably did.
I didn’t know what was happening, or why. All I knew is my brain was screaming RUN HOME,
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