Read Online Hunting Daylight (9781101619032) by Piper Maitland - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Piper Maitland
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purgatory.”
Nick Parnell shuffled forward in the line. His long blond hair was pulled back into a club, tied with multicolored beads. He wore a red Hawaiian shirt, denim cut-offs, and acid green flip-flops.
Gunfire boomed in the distance. Jude glanced out of the tent, toward the clearing. A black cloud streaked across the grainy sky. The mercenaries stood at the edge of the clearing, firing AK-47s at the cloud.
The mess hall emptied. Vampires raced across the path, running into tents. Jude looked around for Hamilton—he was gone.
“You might want to take cover,” Parnell called. He stood by the cooler, holding a half-empty blood bottle.
“What’s going on?” Jude asked.
“The Batmobile has arrived,” Parnell said, then drained the bottle.
A massive creature flew by the mess pavilion, its body the size of a goat, its leathery wings broad as a sofa. Jude ducked.
The bat whizzed over a path and knocked down a bald-headed man. The chap scrambled to his feet, and the bat pursued him into the trees. More gunfire discharged.
Cries rose up as the bald man raced out of the trees and headed toward the mess pavilion. Two bats chased him, emitting distinct echolocation clicks. They were hunting in a team.
Jude got to his feet, his chest sawing, heart clenching, perspiration streaming down his sides.
Parnell put down his bottle and grabbed Jude’s arm. “Come with me, dude.”
They hurried out of the pavilion. In the distance Jude saw the bats swarming down a path. He followed Parnell into a smaller tent and they secured the window flaps. There was a rustling sound, and two slippered feet jutted out from beneath a cot. “Get out of my tent,” a disembodied British voice called. “I don’t want to breathe your germs.”
“Lighten up, Walpole,” Parnell said.
A man with a round face pushed out from under thecot. “Put on a surgical mask,” Walpole said. His eyes widened when he saw Jude. “You, too. The box is on the table. You can’t be too careful in this part of the bush. It’s crawling with pathogens.”
From outside, Jude heard more gunshots. A clattering noise went on and on, as if tin cans were rolling off the edge of a building.
Jude pointed vaguely at the window. “Those bats are huge.”
“Like winged Doberman pinschers,” Walpole said.
“Bigger than a Dobie,” Parnell said.
From the
bai
came a raw scream.
Jude lowered his head.
I can’t stay here
, he thought.
I’ve got to resign.
“Yeah, try to resign,” Parnell said. “That’ll be fun to watch.”
“No, it won’t,” Walpole said.
Jude looked up. Had they read his mind?
“We did,” Walpole said, and his gaze sharpened. “Who is Meep?”
Jude hesitated. “A friend.”
Walpole gave Parnell a long look.
“Don’t panic,” Parnell told Jude. “Walpole and I are the only two telepaths in the camp.”
The gunfire ended. Parnell moved to the window and undid the covering, wincing at the sudden brightness. “The flying Dobies are gone.”
He closed the flap and rubbed his eyes.
Jude started toward the door.
“Wait, dude. You’ll need this,” Parnell called. He held out a metallic blanket, like what they give runners aftera marathon. Stay under the trees and run like hell. Maybe you won’t burn.”
“Thanks,” Jude said, stretching the blanket over his head. When he got to his tent, Hamilton leaped off his cot.
“Whoa, Jude. Thank God you’re not dead. It would be a shame to die on your first day in the bush.”
Jude pulled off the blanket.
“You’d better hide that,” Hamilton said. “Or Lenny and them will confiscate it.”
“Why?”
“You still don’t get it. If you’ve got UV gear, you can escape in daylight, while everybody is asleep.”
Hamilton lifted his mattress from the cot and pointed to a silver wrap. It resembled a long, thick wad of tinfoil. “See? I got me one, too.”
Jude turned to his cot and stuffed Parnell’s blanket under the mattress. When he looked up, Hamilton was
Nick Parnell shuffled forward in the line. His long blond hair was pulled back into a club, tied with multicolored beads. He wore a red Hawaiian shirt, denim cut-offs, and acid green flip-flops.
Gunfire boomed in the distance. Jude glanced out of the tent, toward the clearing. A black cloud streaked across the grainy sky. The mercenaries stood at the edge of the clearing, firing AK-47s at the cloud.
The mess hall emptied. Vampires raced across the path, running into tents. Jude looked around for Hamilton—he was gone.
“You might want to take cover,” Parnell called. He stood by the cooler, holding a half-empty blood bottle.
“What’s going on?” Jude asked.
“The Batmobile has arrived,” Parnell said, then drained the bottle.
A massive creature flew by the mess pavilion, its body the size of a goat, its leathery wings broad as a sofa. Jude ducked.
The bat whizzed over a path and knocked down a bald-headed man. The chap scrambled to his feet, and the bat pursued him into the trees. More gunfire discharged.
Cries rose up as the bald man raced out of the trees and headed toward the mess pavilion. Two bats chased him, emitting distinct echolocation clicks. They were hunting in a team.
Jude got to his feet, his chest sawing, heart clenching, perspiration streaming down his sides.
Parnell put down his bottle and grabbed Jude’s arm. “Come with me, dude.”
They hurried out of the pavilion. In the distance Jude saw the bats swarming down a path. He followed Parnell into a smaller tent and they secured the window flaps. There was a rustling sound, and two slippered feet jutted out from beneath a cot. “Get out of my tent,” a disembodied British voice called. “I don’t want to breathe your germs.”
“Lighten up, Walpole,” Parnell said.
A man with a round face pushed out from under thecot. “Put on a surgical mask,” Walpole said. His eyes widened when he saw Jude. “You, too. The box is on the table. You can’t be too careful in this part of the bush. It’s crawling with pathogens.”
From outside, Jude heard more gunshots. A clattering noise went on and on, as if tin cans were rolling off the edge of a building.
Jude pointed vaguely at the window. “Those bats are huge.”
“Like winged Doberman pinschers,” Walpole said.
“Bigger than a Dobie,” Parnell said.
From the
bai
came a raw scream.
Jude lowered his head.
I can’t stay here
, he thought.
I’ve got to resign.
“Yeah, try to resign,” Parnell said. “That’ll be fun to watch.”
“No, it won’t,” Walpole said.
Jude looked up. Had they read his mind?
“We did,” Walpole said, and his gaze sharpened. “Who is Meep?”
Jude hesitated. “A friend.”
Walpole gave Parnell a long look.
“Don’t panic,” Parnell told Jude. “Walpole and I are the only two telepaths in the camp.”
The gunfire ended. Parnell moved to the window and undid the covering, wincing at the sudden brightness. “The flying Dobies are gone.”
He closed the flap and rubbed his eyes.
Jude started toward the door.
“Wait, dude. You’ll need this,” Parnell called. He held out a metallic blanket, like what they give runners aftera marathon. Stay under the trees and run like hell. Maybe you won’t burn.”
“Thanks,” Jude said, stretching the blanket over his head. When he got to his tent, Hamilton leaped off his cot.
“Whoa, Jude. Thank God you’re not dead. It would be a shame to die on your first day in the bush.”
Jude pulled off the blanket.
“You’d better hide that,” Hamilton said. “Or Lenny and them will confiscate it.”
“Why?”
“You still don’t get it. If you’ve got UV gear, you can escape in daylight, while everybody is asleep.”
Hamilton lifted his mattress from the cot and pointed to a silver wrap. It resembled a long, thick wad of tinfoil. “See? I got me one, too.”
Jude turned to his cot and stuffed Parnell’s blanket under the mattress. When he looked up, Hamilton was
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