Read Online Bits & Pieces by Jonathan Maberry - Free Book Online
Authors: Jonathan Maberry
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being a pervert and a retard and a lot of other things. Mr. Magruder never managed to get a word in edgewise, and when Mom threatened to have Tony arrested for assault and battery, the man grabbed his son and smacked him half-unconscious, then shoved him into their truck. Jack never saw Tony again, but he heard that the boy was going to a special school over in Bordentown.
Jack kind of felt bad for Tony, because he didnât like to see any kid get his ass kicked. Even a total jerkoff like Tony. On the other hand, Tony had almost hurt Jill, so maybe he got off light. From the look on Momâs face, she wanted to do more than smack the smile off his face.
That face was set against whatever was going on now. Whatever had hurt Jill. Whatever might be in the way of getting her to a hospital.
Despite the fear that gnawed at him, seeing that face made Jack feel ten feet tall. His mother was tougher than anyone, even the school bully and his dad. And she had a gun. So did Dad and Uncle Roger.
Jack almost smiled.
Almost.
He remembered the look in Jillâs eyes. The color of her eyes.
No smile was able to take hold on his features as he pulled on his raincoat and boots and followed his family out into the dark and the storm.
8
They made it all the way to the truck.
That was it.
9
The wind tried to rip the door out of Dadâs hand as he pushed it open; it drove the rain so hard that it came sideways across the porch and hammered them like buckshot. Thunder shattered the yard like an artillery barrage and lightning flashed in every direction, knocking shadows all over the place.
Jack had to hunch into his coat and grab onto Dadâs belt to keep from being blasted back into the house. The air was thick and wet, and he started to cough before he was three steps onto the porch. His chest hitched, and there was a gassy rasp in the back of his throat as he fought to breathe. Part of it was the insanity of the storm, which was worse than anything Jack had ever experienced. Worse than it looked on TV. Part of it was that there simply wasnât much of him. Even with the few pounds heâd put on since he went into remission, he was a stick figure in baggy pajamas. His boots were big and clunky, and he half walked out of them with every step.
Mom was up with Roger, running as fast as she could despite the wind, forcing her way through it to get to the truck and open the doors. Roger staggered as if Jill was a burden, but it was just the wind, trying to bully him the way Tony Magruder had bullied Jill.
The whole yard was moving. It was a flowing, swirling pond that lapped up against the second porch step. Jack stared at it, entranced for a moment, and in that moment the pond seemed to rear up in front of him and become that big black wall of nothing that he saw so often in his dreams.
âDid the levee break?â he yelled. He had to yell it twice before Dad answered.
âNo,â Dad shouted back. âThis is ground runoff. Itâs coming from the fields. If the levee broke, itâd come at us from River Road. Weâre okay. Weâll be okay. The truck can handle this.â
There was more doubt than conviction in Dadâs words, though.
Together they fought their way off the porch and across five yards of open driveway to the truck.
Lightning flashed again, and something moved in front of Jack. Between Mom and the truck. It was there and gone.
âMom!â Jack called, but the wind stole his cry and drowned it in the rain.
She reached for the door handle, and in the next flash of lightning Jack saw Jillâs slender arm reach out from the bundle of blankets as if to touch Momâs face. Mom paused and looked at her hand, and in the white glow of the lightning Jack saw Mom smile and saw her lips move as she said something to Jill.
Then something came out of the rain and grabbed Mom.
Hands, white as wax, reached out of the shadows beside the truck and grabbed Momâs hair and
Jack kind of felt bad for Tony, because he didnât like to see any kid get his ass kicked. Even a total jerkoff like Tony. On the other hand, Tony had almost hurt Jill, so maybe he got off light. From the look on Momâs face, she wanted to do more than smack the smile off his face.
That face was set against whatever was going on now. Whatever had hurt Jill. Whatever might be in the way of getting her to a hospital.
Despite the fear that gnawed at him, seeing that face made Jack feel ten feet tall. His mother was tougher than anyone, even the school bully and his dad. And she had a gun. So did Dad and Uncle Roger.
Jack almost smiled.
Almost.
He remembered the look in Jillâs eyes. The color of her eyes.
No smile was able to take hold on his features as he pulled on his raincoat and boots and followed his family out into the dark and the storm.
8
They made it all the way to the truck.
That was it.
9
The wind tried to rip the door out of Dadâs hand as he pushed it open; it drove the rain so hard that it came sideways across the porch and hammered them like buckshot. Thunder shattered the yard like an artillery barrage and lightning flashed in every direction, knocking shadows all over the place.
Jack had to hunch into his coat and grab onto Dadâs belt to keep from being blasted back into the house. The air was thick and wet, and he started to cough before he was three steps onto the porch. His chest hitched, and there was a gassy rasp in the back of his throat as he fought to breathe. Part of it was the insanity of the storm, which was worse than anything Jack had ever experienced. Worse than it looked on TV. Part of it was that there simply wasnât much of him. Even with the few pounds heâd put on since he went into remission, he was a stick figure in baggy pajamas. His boots were big and clunky, and he half walked out of them with every step.
Mom was up with Roger, running as fast as she could despite the wind, forcing her way through it to get to the truck and open the doors. Roger staggered as if Jill was a burden, but it was just the wind, trying to bully him the way Tony Magruder had bullied Jill.
The whole yard was moving. It was a flowing, swirling pond that lapped up against the second porch step. Jack stared at it, entranced for a moment, and in that moment the pond seemed to rear up in front of him and become that big black wall of nothing that he saw so often in his dreams.
âDid the levee break?â he yelled. He had to yell it twice before Dad answered.
âNo,â Dad shouted back. âThis is ground runoff. Itâs coming from the fields. If the levee broke, itâd come at us from River Road. Weâre okay. Weâll be okay. The truck can handle this.â
There was more doubt than conviction in Dadâs words, though.
Together they fought their way off the porch and across five yards of open driveway to the truck.
Lightning flashed again, and something moved in front of Jack. Between Mom and the truck. It was there and gone.
âMom!â Jack called, but the wind stole his cry and drowned it in the rain.
She reached for the door handle, and in the next flash of lightning Jack saw Jillâs slender arm reach out from the bundle of blankets as if to touch Momâs face. Mom paused and looked at her hand, and in the white glow of the lightning Jack saw Mom smile and saw her lips move as she said something to Jill.
Then something came out of the rain and grabbed Mom.
Hands, white as wax, reached out of the shadows beside the truck and grabbed Momâs hair and
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