Read Online Chenda and the Airship Brofman by Emilie P. Bush - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Emilie P. Bush
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hours, the two women would be boarding an airship, and Candice needed to take care of a few things. She decided to risk a journey out into the city and left a note for Chenda promising she would be right back. Silently, the professor slipped out the door.
As she passed the corner newsstand, Candice saw the headline of the early edition: Frost Widow Dies in Fire
She snatched up the pages and threw a coin at the vendor. She stood in the middle of the sidewalk reading the story:
Just two days after the funeral of her husband Edison Frost, the body of Mrs. Chenda Frost has been found in the remains of the couple's estate home just north of Coal City. The Frost mansion burned to the ground before dawn today.
Mrs. Frost's housekeeper Alme Taylor says that the lady of the house was in at the time of the fire, which, according to witnesses, originated in the area of the master bedroom. The remains found in that room are assumed to be hers. Officials believe the blaze may not have been accidental, and are currently investigating the....
Candice quit reading. Dead. Everybody thought Chenda was dead. Well, she thought, almost everybody assumed she was dead. Whoever hired Daniel was sure to suspect Chenda Frost was alive when he didn't come back with the stones.
Looking cautiously around, Candice tucked her newspaper under her arm and hustled off to gather the last of her supplies for the journey.
Chenda woke up screaming in Candice's bed. As she sat up, she traded the horror of her dream for the horror of her reality. She ached all over, and her hands were on fire. She stank. The odor of sweat, smoke and fear radiated from her. She was altogether disoriented. It took her a moment to recall she was in Candice's apartment. She slipped out of the bed, feeling the protest from all the strained muscles in her arms and back. When she was sure she wasn't too wobbly to walk, Chenda limped out into the small living room.
No Candice.
She worried for a moment until she found the note, and she looked around to see what time it was. Two o'clock. Candice couldn't be much longer if they were going to make it to the airship on time. Her friend would have to be home soon.
Chenda's stomach growled, so she wandered into the kitchen. She helped herself to a slice of bread and cheese, then sat down at Candice's tiny kitchen table. She took a small bite and quickly followed with several bigger ones. Hunger - Chenda couldn't recall the last time she had had an appetite. She went though several more slices, stopping only long enough to liberate some jam from the cabinet.
Despite the pain, Chenda found herself laughing at her situation; it was tricky opening a jam jar with both hands wrapped in bandages. Chenda persisted and her hard work paid off in boysenberries.
As she chewed, Chenda thought about the events of the night before, specifically about Daniel Frent. When she closed her eyes, she saw the scene as if she watched from across from across the room. She saw herself hating him and swinging the knife. His death came from her hands, just as her death was attempted by his. In a very sick way, she felt connected to Daniel through those mutual acts of oblivion. What she didn't feel was regret. There was no remorse, and no doubt. She would always carry the essence of Daniel Frent with her, and strangely that was acceptable, as he was no burden.
Brushing the crumbs off her torn and bloodstained blouse, Chenda noticed her awful smell again. She went down the narrow hall and found a scrupulously clean bathroom across from Candice's bedroom.
As Chenda filled the sink basin with water, she looked up into the mirror but didn't recognize the person who looked back. The entire left side of her face was swollen with patches of blotchy, dark purple. Daniel's final blow to her face must have burst a blood vessel in her eye; the light brown iris now floated in a sea of dark blood. Behind that remarkably unnerving eye and purple cheek, much
As she passed the corner newsstand, Candice saw the headline of the early edition: Frost Widow Dies in Fire
She snatched up the pages and threw a coin at the vendor. She stood in the middle of the sidewalk reading the story:
Just two days after the funeral of her husband Edison Frost, the body of Mrs. Chenda Frost has been found in the remains of the couple's estate home just north of Coal City. The Frost mansion burned to the ground before dawn today.
Mrs. Frost's housekeeper Alme Taylor says that the lady of the house was in at the time of the fire, which, according to witnesses, originated in the area of the master bedroom. The remains found in that room are assumed to be hers. Officials believe the blaze may not have been accidental, and are currently investigating the....
Candice quit reading. Dead. Everybody thought Chenda was dead. Well, she thought, almost everybody assumed she was dead. Whoever hired Daniel was sure to suspect Chenda Frost was alive when he didn't come back with the stones.
Looking cautiously around, Candice tucked her newspaper under her arm and hustled off to gather the last of her supplies for the journey.
Chenda woke up screaming in Candice's bed. As she sat up, she traded the horror of her dream for the horror of her reality. She ached all over, and her hands were on fire. She stank. The odor of sweat, smoke and fear radiated from her. She was altogether disoriented. It took her a moment to recall she was in Candice's apartment. She slipped out of the bed, feeling the protest from all the strained muscles in her arms and back. When she was sure she wasn't too wobbly to walk, Chenda limped out into the small living room.
No Candice.
She worried for a moment until she found the note, and she looked around to see what time it was. Two o'clock. Candice couldn't be much longer if they were going to make it to the airship on time. Her friend would have to be home soon.
Chenda's stomach growled, so she wandered into the kitchen. She helped herself to a slice of bread and cheese, then sat down at Candice's tiny kitchen table. She took a small bite and quickly followed with several bigger ones. Hunger - Chenda couldn't recall the last time she had had an appetite. She went though several more slices, stopping only long enough to liberate some jam from the cabinet.
Despite the pain, Chenda found herself laughing at her situation; it was tricky opening a jam jar with both hands wrapped in bandages. Chenda persisted and her hard work paid off in boysenberries.
As she chewed, Chenda thought about the events of the night before, specifically about Daniel Frent. When she closed her eyes, she saw the scene as if she watched from across from across the room. She saw herself hating him and swinging the knife. His death came from her hands, just as her death was attempted by his. In a very sick way, she felt connected to Daniel through those mutual acts of oblivion. What she didn't feel was regret. There was no remorse, and no doubt. She would always carry the essence of Daniel Frent with her, and strangely that was acceptable, as he was no burden.
Brushing the crumbs off her torn and bloodstained blouse, Chenda noticed her awful smell again. She went down the narrow hall and found a scrupulously clean bathroom across from Candice's bedroom.
As Chenda filled the sink basin with water, she looked up into the mirror but didn't recognize the person who looked back. The entire left side of her face was swollen with patches of blotchy, dark purple. Daniel's final blow to her face must have burst a blood vessel in her eye; the light brown iris now floated in a sea of dark blood. Behind that remarkably unnerving eye and purple cheek, much
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