the family room. Fastened in the middle of the wall was our new flat screen TV. Gray static filled the screen. The white noise gave me goose bumps and reminded me some people actually believed the dead communicated through off-the-air radio waves.
I stretched over to turn it off, but decided against it. I glanced at Dad. He snored loudly. Nothing could wake him. Or so I thought.
“Huh...?” He jerked up, knocking over one of the beer cans next to his chair.
Major crapola . Ducking down, I looked for a place to hide. My heart pounded so hard I thought for sure he heard it. I hid behind the counter. Please, go back to sleep. Though I loved Dad to pieces, he’d had the hardest time accepting anything to do with the supernatural. I cringed just imagining what he would think of my little excursion this early in the morning.
His half-closed eyes glanced around the room. He shrugged and went back to sleep.
Whew. Too close. I waited a few more minutes. When his snoring resumed, I dashed to the door, opened it and left.
Strands of fog drifted by me, wrapping around cars, houses, and our mailbox out front. Just the right atmosphere for what I needed to do to place the completed cross next to the deserted airbase. I hoped someone had found the woman’s body by now. I so didn’t want to deal with a bloody corpse this early in the morning.
As I cut across our front lawn, my Nikes squeaked on the wet grass. The moisture soaked through my sweats. I shivered. I made my way toward our old Jetta, parked on the street.
I knew I shouldn’t be driving, considering I only had my learner’s permit.
But I had to do this. Hopefully, something would distract Mr. Policeman while I did my job.
Feeling better, I started the car, wincing at the backfire. Jeez, couldn’t Dad or Mom take the car to the shop? I prayed Dad, or anyone else in the neighborhood hadn’t woken up.
I drove around the corner and let out a sigh of relief. Good, no one had gotten up to stop me. Maybe this rescue wouldn’t be too hard after all.
Chapter 11
As I drove toward the deserted airbase, I made out my school on the hill across the freeway. For a moment I forgot about my rescue.
Memories of the last few hours came back to me.... Dylan looked so hot on the dance floor. I couldn’t forget how safe and protected I felt in his embrace.
How I wished I had someone to confide in, someone who understood my fascination with crosses and dead people, someone who would not judge me, or call me strange like they did some of those Goth or Emo kids whose only fashion statement came in black and chains.
But that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. Knowing my luck, instead of being bumped down to an even worse fate than invisible status at school, I’d get carted off to the local funny farm where everyone saw dead people.
No, I wouldn’t go there.
I continued to the old airbase. I got off the I-80, driving down Watt Avenue. Oak trees flashed by my window.
At the top of the hill, the fog thinned. A few lone strands drifted by my car like bits of broken spider web.
I parked my car on the shoulder of the old asphalt road, near a dilapidated warehouse. From my window I could make out ‘Aircraft Engine Test’ on the building. Litter covered the dry forgotten grass. Rusted metal containers lay on their sides.
I slid from my car and opened the trunk. An old quilt covered the cross. I removed it, careful not to smudge the pen artwork. Moonlight embraced the wood, draping its approval around it.
I walked to the crest of the hill.
Thousands of stars filled the sky. Without man-made lights or fog, I could see all of Sacramento spread out in the basin below.
I turned away. I had no time to admire the sights. The woman I needed to rescue only had a few more hours left before her chance to cross over passed. Then she’d be left to wander the airbase forever.
And I’d be responsible. I shuddered, remembering my failure at Hillary’s house.
I’d already
I stretched over to turn it off, but decided against it. I glanced at Dad. He snored loudly. Nothing could wake him. Or so I thought.
“Huh...?” He jerked up, knocking over one of the beer cans next to his chair.
Major crapola . Ducking down, I looked for a place to hide. My heart pounded so hard I thought for sure he heard it. I hid behind the counter. Please, go back to sleep. Though I loved Dad to pieces, he’d had the hardest time accepting anything to do with the supernatural. I cringed just imagining what he would think of my little excursion this early in the morning.
His half-closed eyes glanced around the room. He shrugged and went back to sleep.
Whew. Too close. I waited a few more minutes. When his snoring resumed, I dashed to the door, opened it and left.
Strands of fog drifted by me, wrapping around cars, houses, and our mailbox out front. Just the right atmosphere for what I needed to do to place the completed cross next to the deserted airbase. I hoped someone had found the woman’s body by now. I so didn’t want to deal with a bloody corpse this early in the morning.
As I cut across our front lawn, my Nikes squeaked on the wet grass. The moisture soaked through my sweats. I shivered. I made my way toward our old Jetta, parked on the street.
I knew I shouldn’t be driving, considering I only had my learner’s permit.
But I had to do this. Hopefully, something would distract Mr. Policeman while I did my job.
Feeling better, I started the car, wincing at the backfire. Jeez, couldn’t Dad or Mom take the car to the shop? I prayed Dad, or anyone else in the neighborhood hadn’t woken up.
I drove around the corner and let out a sigh of relief. Good, no one had gotten up to stop me. Maybe this rescue wouldn’t be too hard after all.
Chapter 11
As I drove toward the deserted airbase, I made out my school on the hill across the freeway. For a moment I forgot about my rescue.
Memories of the last few hours came back to me.... Dylan looked so hot on the dance floor. I couldn’t forget how safe and protected I felt in his embrace.
How I wished I had someone to confide in, someone who understood my fascination with crosses and dead people, someone who would not judge me, or call me strange like they did some of those Goth or Emo kids whose only fashion statement came in black and chains.
But that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. Knowing my luck, instead of being bumped down to an even worse fate than invisible status at school, I’d get carted off to the local funny farm where everyone saw dead people.
No, I wouldn’t go there.
I continued to the old airbase. I got off the I-80, driving down Watt Avenue. Oak trees flashed by my window.
At the top of the hill, the fog thinned. A few lone strands drifted by my car like bits of broken spider web.
I parked my car on the shoulder of the old asphalt road, near a dilapidated warehouse. From my window I could make out ‘Aircraft Engine Test’ on the building. Litter covered the dry forgotten grass. Rusted metal containers lay on their sides.
I slid from my car and opened the trunk. An old quilt covered the cross. I removed it, careful not to smudge the pen artwork. Moonlight embraced the wood, draping its approval around it.
I walked to the crest of the hill.
Thousands of stars filled the sky. Without man-made lights or fog, I could see all of Sacramento spread out in the basin below.
I turned away. I had no time to admire the sights. The woman I needed to rescue only had a few more hours left before her chance to cross over passed. Then she’d be left to wander the airbase forever.
And I’d be responsible. I shuddered, remembering my failure at Hillary’s house.
I’d already
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