Read Online Death's Awakening by Sarra Cannon - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sarra Cannon
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quick glance toward her mother’s room.
The answers on Google
all suggested things like cold towels, Tylenol, and lukewarm baths.
There was no way she’d be able to carry her mom to the bathtub,
but she could try cold towels. There might be some Tylenol in the
medicine cabinet in the downstairs bathroom, too.
Parrish snatched up her
phone and ran down the stairs.
Still no answer on 911.
Her phone had to be broken or have some kind of wonky signal. She
picked up the wireless phone in the kitchen and dialed from there.
Even if the cell towers were down for some reason, the home line
should work. She dialed and held her breath, her heart beating in her
eardrums.
It was busy.
Parrish’s mouth
dropped open and she pressed the phone tighter against her face. She
was breathless. Unable to make sense of this.
How could 911 be busy?
Terror flashed through
her veins like a hot fire. Something was very wrong. A nightmare come
to life.
She hit redial, but got
the same busy tone. She slammed the phone down on the countertops and
gripped the edge of the granite with both hands, her head hung low.
Oh God. What was she supposed to do? What the hell was going on?
She tried to pull in a
deep breath, but her lungs were tight and closed. She had to keep
moving. She needed to stay focused. She had to get her mother’s
fever down.
She threw open a drawer
next to the fridge and grabbed a plastic bag, then tossed a handful
of ice cubes inside. She rummaged through the medicine cabinet,
finding some ibuprofen and Tylenol, then ran back up the stairs to
her mom.
“I got some ice,”
she said as she walked into the bedroom.
But what she saw
stopped her in her tracks. The bag of ice and the pill bottles slid
from Parrish’s hand.
Her mother sat in pool
of vomit on the bed, bright red blood dripping from the corner of her
mouth. She looked up at Parrish and tried to smile, but it came out
sideways, like a clown from some kind of nightmare circus.
Her eyes rolled back in
her head, then she toppled forward, her body limp.
Noah
Noah had been slipping
in and out of sleep for the past couple hours. He was exhausted, but
his mind just wouldn’t seem to turn off. His father had been
working in the basement for days and he refused to tell Noah anything
about whatever illness was going around.
But something was
definitely going on.
Noah had tried to get
together with a couple of his friends earlier in the evening and none
of them had been feeling well. His friend Alex had even been admitted
to the hospital.
How serious was this
thing?
His dad knew. Why
wasn’t he talking about it? Noah was about one more sleepless
hour away from knocking down the basement door.
A loud banging broke
through the silence.
He shot straight up and
listened. Was that coming from the basement?
Another bang and he
realized that no, someone was at the front door. He looked at the
glowing clock beside his bed. It was almost four in the morning.
He jumped out of bed
and ran to his window. Someone was pacing back and forth on the front
porch, but he couldn’t see them well enough to tell who it was.
An image of the sick
man from the other night flashed through his head. The news had
reported on him saying that he’d walked nearly two miles from
his house in a delirious fever before finally collapsing on their
street. Had someone else wandered over here?
Or was one of his
neighbors in trouble?
He grabbed his jeans
from the floor and stepped into them, then grabbed a t-shirt out of
the dirty clothes pile. He took the stairs at record pace and threw
the door open just as he pulled the shirt over his head.
Parrish Sorrows turned,
her violet eyes wide. He’d never seen her without her dark
eyeliner. “I’m so sorry to wake you up, but I didn’t
know what else to do.”
“What’s
wrong?” he asked. She was the last person he’d expected
to see at his door in the middle of the night. He wiped the tiredness
from his eyes. “Come in.”
She shook her
The answers on Google
all suggested things like cold towels, Tylenol, and lukewarm baths.
There was no way she’d be able to carry her mom to the bathtub,
but she could try cold towels. There might be some Tylenol in the
medicine cabinet in the downstairs bathroom, too.
Parrish snatched up her
phone and ran down the stairs.
Still no answer on 911.
Her phone had to be broken or have some kind of wonky signal. She
picked up the wireless phone in the kitchen and dialed from there.
Even if the cell towers were down for some reason, the home line
should work. She dialed and held her breath, her heart beating in her
eardrums.
It was busy.
Parrish’s mouth
dropped open and she pressed the phone tighter against her face. She
was breathless. Unable to make sense of this.
How could 911 be busy?
Terror flashed through
her veins like a hot fire. Something was very wrong. A nightmare come
to life.
She hit redial, but got
the same busy tone. She slammed the phone down on the countertops and
gripped the edge of the granite with both hands, her head hung low.
Oh God. What was she supposed to do? What the hell was going on?
She tried to pull in a
deep breath, but her lungs were tight and closed. She had to keep
moving. She needed to stay focused. She had to get her mother’s
fever down.
She threw open a drawer
next to the fridge and grabbed a plastic bag, then tossed a handful
of ice cubes inside. She rummaged through the medicine cabinet,
finding some ibuprofen and Tylenol, then ran back up the stairs to
her mom.
“I got some ice,”
she said as she walked into the bedroom.
But what she saw
stopped her in her tracks. The bag of ice and the pill bottles slid
from Parrish’s hand.
Her mother sat in pool
of vomit on the bed, bright red blood dripping from the corner of her
mouth. She looked up at Parrish and tried to smile, but it came out
sideways, like a clown from some kind of nightmare circus.
Her eyes rolled back in
her head, then she toppled forward, her body limp.
Noah
Noah had been slipping
in and out of sleep for the past couple hours. He was exhausted, but
his mind just wouldn’t seem to turn off. His father had been
working in the basement for days and he refused to tell Noah anything
about whatever illness was going around.
But something was
definitely going on.
Noah had tried to get
together with a couple of his friends earlier in the evening and none
of them had been feeling well. His friend Alex had even been admitted
to the hospital.
How serious was this
thing?
His dad knew. Why
wasn’t he talking about it? Noah was about one more sleepless
hour away from knocking down the basement door.
A loud banging broke
through the silence.
He shot straight up and
listened. Was that coming from the basement?
Another bang and he
realized that no, someone was at the front door. He looked at the
glowing clock beside his bed. It was almost four in the morning.
He jumped out of bed
and ran to his window. Someone was pacing back and forth on the front
porch, but he couldn’t see them well enough to tell who it was.
An image of the sick
man from the other night flashed through his head. The news had
reported on him saying that he’d walked nearly two miles from
his house in a delirious fever before finally collapsing on their
street. Had someone else wandered over here?
Or was one of his
neighbors in trouble?
He grabbed his jeans
from the floor and stepped into them, then grabbed a t-shirt out of
the dirty clothes pile. He took the stairs at record pace and threw
the door open just as he pulled the shirt over his head.
Parrish Sorrows turned,
her violet eyes wide. He’d never seen her without her dark
eyeliner. “I’m so sorry to wake you up, but I didn’t
know what else to do.”
“What’s
wrong?” he asked. She was the last person he’d expected
to see at his door in the middle of the night. He wiped the tiredness
from his eyes. “Come in.”
She shook her
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