Read Online Jenny Plague-Bringer: (Jenny Pox #4) by J. Bryan - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: J. Bryan
Tags: Fiction, Occult & Supernatural
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Louis. The two extra horses they’d captured galloped alongside them, making annoyed
sounds at being woken and forced to run in the rain. Two additional horses followed
at a distance, not eager to run but apparently not wanting to miss the party, either.
She heard the sounds of engines cranking.
“Maybe we should have taken one of those cars instead!” Juliana shouted to be heard
over the pounding rain and the commotion behind them.
“Those can’t go anywhere but roads. We wouldn’t be able to escape. Drop those reins!”
Juliana released her captured horse, and so did he. He shouted “Yah!” at them a few
times, and then turned and rode off along what looked like a muddy deer path into
the woods. No truck or car could follow them here.
He slowed a little when they were out of sight of the road. “Any luck, they’ll follow
those other horses down the road before they figure out they’ve lost us.”
“Where does this trail go?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t know, we’re just passing through town.”
“Where are you from? Do you have a name?”
“I do.” He leaned forward and shouted, “Yah!” The horse picked up speed, galloping
away from the trouble behind them.
Juliana held tight to the boy’s waist. Her fingers wanted to trace the shape of the
muscle under his shirt, and she let them explore as much as she dared.
As they rode through the rain, under the bright harvest moon, she couldn’t help noticing
how she felt bounding against him again and again with each stride of the horse’s
leg, with only her rain-soaked underpants separating her from his scratchy woolen
trousers.
She snuggled her arms tighter around him and rested her cheek on his strong back.
Despite the rain, she hoped the ride would never end.
Chapter Six
Jenny stood in her studio, staring at the mannequin. It was an androgynous, hairless,
waist-up model clamped in place by a sawhorse. She’d carved and painted all kinds
of symptoms into it, dark sores and dripping wounds. She’d glued ugly plastic black
flies here and there all over the body, and cut out magazine pictures of people with
horrified expressions and pasted a dense collage of them over the mannequin’s heart.
She could never show it to anyone, for a number of reasons, but she had no desire
to share it. It was a confession of her evil, a splattering of all the haunting memories
of death and suffering that crawled inside of her. The point was in the making of
it, in doing something with the guilt fed by the horror movies that never stopped
playing inside her mind. If she didn’t find a way to let them out, they would eat
her up. She’d seen her dark side, with Alexander, and she wasn’t going to be that
person again.
Jenny touched a hand to her stomach. No heavy bleeding yet. The little starter baby
was still swimming around in there like a tiny fish. She felt bad for the doomed
creature, but she avoided thinking of it as a person. It wouldn’t live long enough
for that.
Seth knocked on her door, and Jenny turned down her stereo. She had to listen to
Patsy Cline on a digital music app now. She missed her mother’s record collection,
still back home with her dad. She missed her dad every day, too. She’d lived with
him for eighteen years, then vanished, and it was almost certain that she would never
see him again. She couldn’t risk returning to the United States.
“You busy?” Seth asked, leaning in the door.
“Busy-ish.” Jenny gestured toward the mannequin. “Just working on this stupid thing.
Want to go out for oysters?”
“I’ve got some bad news. There’s something you should probably see.”
“Okay...” Jenny reluctantly followed him out of the room. She didn’t need more bad
news. She could already feel their Parisian magic carpet beginning to unravel beneath
their feet.
The living room was filled with
sounds at being woken and forced to run in the rain. Two additional horses followed
at a distance, not eager to run but apparently not wanting to miss the party, either.
She heard the sounds of engines cranking.
“Maybe we should have taken one of those cars instead!” Juliana shouted to be heard
over the pounding rain and the commotion behind them.
“Those can’t go anywhere but roads. We wouldn’t be able to escape. Drop those reins!”
Juliana released her captured horse, and so did he. He shouted “Yah!” at them a few
times, and then turned and rode off along what looked like a muddy deer path into
the woods. No truck or car could follow them here.
He slowed a little when they were out of sight of the road. “Any luck, they’ll follow
those other horses down the road before they figure out they’ve lost us.”
“Where does this trail go?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t know, we’re just passing through town.”
“Where are you from? Do you have a name?”
“I do.” He leaned forward and shouted, “Yah!” The horse picked up speed, galloping
away from the trouble behind them.
Juliana held tight to the boy’s waist. Her fingers wanted to trace the shape of the
muscle under his shirt, and she let them explore as much as she dared.
As they rode through the rain, under the bright harvest moon, she couldn’t help noticing
how she felt bounding against him again and again with each stride of the horse’s
leg, with only her rain-soaked underpants separating her from his scratchy woolen
trousers.
She snuggled her arms tighter around him and rested her cheek on his strong back.
Despite the rain, she hoped the ride would never end.
Chapter Six
Jenny stood in her studio, staring at the mannequin. It was an androgynous, hairless,
waist-up model clamped in place by a sawhorse. She’d carved and painted all kinds
of symptoms into it, dark sores and dripping wounds. She’d glued ugly plastic black
flies here and there all over the body, and cut out magazine pictures of people with
horrified expressions and pasted a dense collage of them over the mannequin’s heart.
She could never show it to anyone, for a number of reasons, but she had no desire
to share it. It was a confession of her evil, a splattering of all the haunting memories
of death and suffering that crawled inside of her. The point was in the making of
it, in doing something with the guilt fed by the horror movies that never stopped
playing inside her mind. If she didn’t find a way to let them out, they would eat
her up. She’d seen her dark side, with Alexander, and she wasn’t going to be that
person again.
Jenny touched a hand to her stomach. No heavy bleeding yet. The little starter baby
was still swimming around in there like a tiny fish. She felt bad for the doomed
creature, but she avoided thinking of it as a person. It wouldn’t live long enough
for that.
Seth knocked on her door, and Jenny turned down her stereo. She had to listen to
Patsy Cline on a digital music app now. She missed her mother’s record collection,
still back home with her dad. She missed her dad every day, too. She’d lived with
him for eighteen years, then vanished, and it was almost certain that she would never
see him again. She couldn’t risk returning to the United States.
“You busy?” Seth asked, leaning in the door.
“Busy-ish.” Jenny gestured toward the mannequin. “Just working on this stupid thing.
Want to go out for oysters?”
“I’ve got some bad news. There’s something you should probably see.”
“Okay...” Jenny reluctantly followed him out of the room. She didn’t need more bad
news. She could already feel their Parisian magic carpet beginning to unravel beneath
their feet.
The living room was filled with
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