Read Online Beware the Wild by Natalie C. Parker - Free Book Online

at least give me the time of day.”
    â€œWhy don’t we study?” Abigail suggests, she tugs on our hands, making a gentle plea for peace in her calming way. “I know you both need help with history.”
    But Candy’s not having any of it. “You want the time of day? Here’s a minute or two!” As I protest, she grabs Abigail’s hand and drags her across the yard and over the broken section of the fence. “Let’s settle this.”
    The Wasting Shine glimmers at their approach. Pine branches bob in the breeze like a great gaping maw. A nightmare descends. They can’t really be in the swamp.
    â€œCandy, c’mon,” I urge, “this isn’t funny. Please, come back.”
    â€œWhy?” She moves deeper into the woods. “This whole town thinks there’s something horrible hiding in here, but it’s just a swamp, Saucier. Louisiana is lousy with them. They smell like shit and they’re full of gators and ducks, but you know what they’re not full of? Demons and ghosts.”
    She smacks her palm against the trunk of a skinny black gum tree and swings around it until she’s facing me again. Shine skitters away, avoiding her touch as if she were a negatively charged magnet.
    â€œHey!” she shouts. “Demons of this sweltering mud pit, if you exist, come forth, I summon thee!”
    When nothing happens, Candy splays her hands as if that’s proof of anything.
    â€œI hate to agree with her when she’s being so obnoxious, but I think she’s right.” Abigail’s moved off a little ways, down the fence where blackberry bushes have always grown just beyond reach. She plucks a few and eats. “Ugh. Except maybe fear these blackberries.”
    â€œOkay, great. You’ve made your point, both of you, now please come back into the yard.”
    Long ropes of Shine lash at Abigail’s ankles and lick up her calves, but she doesn’t notice them. She tosses the berries away and begins to move a little deeper into the swamp as though the Shine guides her.
    â€œDo you guys see that?” she calls. Cypress trunks block my view of her tall form.
    This must be what happened to Phin. And to Nathan. Now, it’s happening to Abigail right here in front of me and I’m too scared to cross the fence.
    â€œCandy, please go get her,” I plead, trying to keep as much of the fear from my voice as possible. “Please. Abigail?”
    Abigail’s still out of sight, but she answers my call and Candy jogs in the direction of her voice. The hum of summer fills my ears, too loud and too quiet all at once. For one horrible second, I can’t see either of them, but then they come into view, arm in arm, Shine whipping at their heels and no longer wrapped around Abigail’s ankles.
    â€œAre you sure you didn’t see him?” Abigail’s saying when they climb over the fence. “Tall, skinny, white T-shirt? You didn’t see anything?”
    â€œOnly cypress trees, which are all of those things minus the T-shirt,” Candy answers with finality.
    â€œA boy?” I ask, pulling them to the safety of the porch. “Did you recognize him?”
    Candy becomes impassive.
    I’m too eager. A tall, thin boy. Nathan? Phineas? “Abigail?”
    Abigail takes her sweet time pulling her eyes from the swamp to look at me, and her gaze is a brick wall when she answers, “No, I didn’t see anything.”
    I have two choices: pursue the truth with two people unwilling to entertain it. Or preserve the fragile friendships I have.
    We study.
    We spend the better part of four hours sprawled across my room with history notes and textbooks covering every available surface. Instead of grilled cheese sandwiches, we order a pizza from Mrs. Trish at the Flying J gas station. She installed a pizza oven and an automatic espresso machine last year in an attempt to add a touch of class. Of course,