Read Online Earth Angel (The Kamlyn Paige Novels) by Alex Apostol - Free Book Online
Authors: Alex Apostol
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something for you to
check out, I’ll let you know,” she added with a slightly concerned undertone.
Don was a man in his late thirties that lived in
our hometown. I’d met him one day after I lost Danny and learned that he had
lost his wife and kid ten years earlier. We bonded quickly over your losses. At
first we thought this was the only thing we had in common, but after many days
spent reminiscing about our families he told me his wife and daughter had been killed
by a demon. He said he spent his time hunting the supernatural in search of the
one that took his family away. At first I didn’t believe him and thought he
might have gone crazy from his grief, but eventually he convinced me it was
true. Deep down I think I always knew he had been telling the truth. How could
I not after what happened to Danny? I just didn’t want to believe it, like most
people when they find out all the things that go bump in the night actually
exist.
Don taught me everything I know about hunting and
he calls Cara whenever he gets overloaded with jobs to do. Not only does he
have a reputation with past ‘clients’ but he also has a sort of sixth sense for
the abnormal. When he’s out on the road, he doesn’t use maps or GPS. He says he
is drawn to his jobs. He’d been doing it for so long it came second nature to
him. I used to wonder if I stuck with it long enough if I’d become as sensitive
to the paranormal as he was. Maybe that was happening to me now in Whitman. Why
else would I have come to this one road town?
“I don’t know, Cara, I just have a feeling…”
I raised my head from the table too quickly and
felt dizzy as the blood rushed back down my body.
“This was my one time to take a break and I drove
seventeen hours on no sleep to come to Nebraska. I feel like I’m here for a
reason, so can you just humor me please?” I pleaded.
She agreed to check out the situation before she
hung up. Still feeling drained from my trip to the café, I decided to take a
nap. Within minutes, my subconscious took me back to my old neighborhood.
*
I wrapped an oversized knitted sweater around my
shoulders and walked absent-mindedly around the neighborhood. It was the first
time I’d gone outside since Danny’s funeral more than a week ago. The sun was
shining down on my face, warming my cheeks with its brilliant rays, but inside
I was cold and broken, engrossed in my grief. Only after a few minutes of
walking, my eyes began to fill with tears. I leaned against a large oak tree
and slid down its trunk to sit on the soft grass. With my head resting on my
knees, I cried over my loss.
“Are you okay?” a concerned voice called from the
distance.
I lifted my head up slightly to see a middle-aged
man rocking back and forth on his front porch swing. I stood up quickly, feeling
embarrassed about my first public breakdown. People were going to think I was
crazy if I kept randomly crying all over the place. Overwhelming grief was only
tolerated for so long, and then people wanted you to put it away and move on.
“Sorry. I’m fine,” I said as I wiped the tears from
under my eyes.
The man patted the empty seat next to him,
signaling me to come join him. Under any other circumstances I would have said
I needed to go home, not wanting to talk to a complete stranger, but instead I
walked up the weather-beaten steps of his porch and sat down beside him.
“I’m Don,” he introduced himself while staring
ahead as the sun turned the sky into beautiful shades of pinks and oranges.
I looked up into his somber face as he turned to
look into my empty eyes. I saw the pain behind his meaningful stare and felt,
for the first time, that someone understood.
“I know what you’re going through,” he said as he
placed a comforting hand on my shoulder.
*
When I woke up it was dark outside. I had slept an
entire day away. Groggy from what I now assumed was too much sleep, I rubbed my
eyes as my stomach let out a
check out, I’ll let you know,” she added with a slightly concerned undertone.
Don was a man in his late thirties that lived in
our hometown. I’d met him one day after I lost Danny and learned that he had
lost his wife and kid ten years earlier. We bonded quickly over your losses. At
first we thought this was the only thing we had in common, but after many days
spent reminiscing about our families he told me his wife and daughter had been killed
by a demon. He said he spent his time hunting the supernatural in search of the
one that took his family away. At first I didn’t believe him and thought he
might have gone crazy from his grief, but eventually he convinced me it was
true. Deep down I think I always knew he had been telling the truth. How could
I not after what happened to Danny? I just didn’t want to believe it, like most
people when they find out all the things that go bump in the night actually
exist.
Don taught me everything I know about hunting and
he calls Cara whenever he gets overloaded with jobs to do. Not only does he
have a reputation with past ‘clients’ but he also has a sort of sixth sense for
the abnormal. When he’s out on the road, he doesn’t use maps or GPS. He says he
is drawn to his jobs. He’d been doing it for so long it came second nature to
him. I used to wonder if I stuck with it long enough if I’d become as sensitive
to the paranormal as he was. Maybe that was happening to me now in Whitman. Why
else would I have come to this one road town?
“I don’t know, Cara, I just have a feeling…”
I raised my head from the table too quickly and
felt dizzy as the blood rushed back down my body.
“This was my one time to take a break and I drove
seventeen hours on no sleep to come to Nebraska. I feel like I’m here for a
reason, so can you just humor me please?” I pleaded.
She agreed to check out the situation before she
hung up. Still feeling drained from my trip to the café, I decided to take a
nap. Within minutes, my subconscious took me back to my old neighborhood.
*
I wrapped an oversized knitted sweater around my
shoulders and walked absent-mindedly around the neighborhood. It was the first
time I’d gone outside since Danny’s funeral more than a week ago. The sun was
shining down on my face, warming my cheeks with its brilliant rays, but inside
I was cold and broken, engrossed in my grief. Only after a few minutes of
walking, my eyes began to fill with tears. I leaned against a large oak tree
and slid down its trunk to sit on the soft grass. With my head resting on my
knees, I cried over my loss.
“Are you okay?” a concerned voice called from the
distance.
I lifted my head up slightly to see a middle-aged
man rocking back and forth on his front porch swing. I stood up quickly, feeling
embarrassed about my first public breakdown. People were going to think I was
crazy if I kept randomly crying all over the place. Overwhelming grief was only
tolerated for so long, and then people wanted you to put it away and move on.
“Sorry. I’m fine,” I said as I wiped the tears from
under my eyes.
The man patted the empty seat next to him,
signaling me to come join him. Under any other circumstances I would have said
I needed to go home, not wanting to talk to a complete stranger, but instead I
walked up the weather-beaten steps of his porch and sat down beside him.
“I’m Don,” he introduced himself while staring
ahead as the sun turned the sky into beautiful shades of pinks and oranges.
I looked up into his somber face as he turned to
look into my empty eyes. I saw the pain behind his meaningful stare and felt,
for the first time, that someone understood.
“I know what you’re going through,” he said as he
placed a comforting hand on my shoulder.
*
When I woke up it was dark outside. I had slept an
entire day away. Groggy from what I now assumed was too much sleep, I rubbed my
eyes as my stomach let out a
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