Read Online Lost Cargo by Hollister Ann Grant, Gene Thomson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Hollister Ann Grant, Gene Thomson
Ads: Link
headlight smashed against a parked car. Glass and metal scattered and burning rubber filled the air. Then the spinning tires squealed as the one-eyed car fishtailed and roared down Newark Street.
“Kree-ee-ee-ee,” the giant shrieked in a murderous wail down the middle of the dark road, narrowing the gap. The car let out a loud
blatt
and chugged uphill. The giant seemed to give up the chase, but then she rushed across a lawn, her cape extended like great wings, and soared to the housetop. She scrabbled across the tiles where she squatted like a gargoyle and turned her fiendish gaze on the fleeing car lights.
A yellow square blinked on in the house. An upstairs light. Seconds later a smaller yellow square appeared. A bedroom and a bathroom. The bedroom drapes opened and fell back. Somebody was up, probably calling the police. The thing on the roof moved over the peak and disappeared in the shadows behind the house.
“Now,” Travis whispered. If they ran for it, they had a chance.
He crawled out from under the pine tree, heart racing, moving through a dreamscape to the bloodstained sidewalk. Glass glittered under the streetlight. The light would expose them when they crossed the road.
Run. Run for it. Run run run now
. When he turned to Lexie, he was horrified to see she’d moved away. She was off in her own world, bending over the sidewalk, kneeling, then standing, black coat moving in and out of the light, camera clicking, the flash going off, recording the dreamscape, the river of blood, the bashed-in utility box, the glittering glass-strewn street, the rooftop at the bottom of the hill where the thing had flown only a moment before.
Travis took long strides to her side. “No, we have to get out of here,” he whispered.
She lowered the camera and took his hand as they ran into the shadows. He didn’t care where they were going or what was in their way. Darkened houses passed by in a blur until a sign for Macomb Street appeared out of the fog.
Chapter 6
Lexie’s House
“W hich way?” Travis barked. For a frightening moment he didn’t recognize the street. Porch lights glimmered up and down the hill. They were on Macomb, but where? The wrong side of 34th again? All at once he got his bearings. A familiar hedge appeared, and the pickets of an iron fence, and a tall shape with grasping arms that shrank to an old oak he’d passed hundreds of times before. Just tree limbs. Just a few blocks to go.
Then they heard a thump, and another thump. Two lights gleamed through the shifting fog. At first he thought two burning yellow eyeballs were pursuing them, rolling up the hill. He held his breath. The lights blazed. A white truck appeared, and an arm shot out the window, tossing newspapers in long arcs toward the porch steps. They landed with soft thumps in the wet grass.
“Stop, stop, help us, please,” Lexie shouted, who still had her wits about her.
The driver gave them a startled look, gunned the motor, and took off.
They kept running uphill. At last the hedge around her house appeared, followed by white columns and railings. They made the porch. “Let me find my key,” she whispered, tearing through her pockets. Once they were inside, she slammed and locked the door and turned on the hall lamp. Black shadows flew like long distorted arms over the walls.
“She killed that guy,” Lexie said, wild-eyed.
“Killed him?” Travis said. “She ate him like a ham sandwich.”
“She
flew
. Did you see that? She flew up on the roof of that house.”
“I’m going to check the doors and windows,” he said, and forced his feet to move. They went through the first floor together, closed drapes that had been open all day, checked locks, and turned on every lamp in every room. Light flooded the spacious house, drove away the evening shadows, and lit up Burke’s antiques and paintings.
Lexie went back to the kitchen, set her camera on the black granite counter, took out a French press to make coffee, and
“Kree-ee-ee-ee,” the giant shrieked in a murderous wail down the middle of the dark road, narrowing the gap. The car let out a loud
blatt
and chugged uphill. The giant seemed to give up the chase, but then she rushed across a lawn, her cape extended like great wings, and soared to the housetop. She scrabbled across the tiles where she squatted like a gargoyle and turned her fiendish gaze on the fleeing car lights.
A yellow square blinked on in the house. An upstairs light. Seconds later a smaller yellow square appeared. A bedroom and a bathroom. The bedroom drapes opened and fell back. Somebody was up, probably calling the police. The thing on the roof moved over the peak and disappeared in the shadows behind the house.
“Now,” Travis whispered. If they ran for it, they had a chance.
He crawled out from under the pine tree, heart racing, moving through a dreamscape to the bloodstained sidewalk. Glass glittered under the streetlight. The light would expose them when they crossed the road.
Run. Run for it. Run run run now
. When he turned to Lexie, he was horrified to see she’d moved away. She was off in her own world, bending over the sidewalk, kneeling, then standing, black coat moving in and out of the light, camera clicking, the flash going off, recording the dreamscape, the river of blood, the bashed-in utility box, the glittering glass-strewn street, the rooftop at the bottom of the hill where the thing had flown only a moment before.
Travis took long strides to her side. “No, we have to get out of here,” he whispered.
She lowered the camera and took his hand as they ran into the shadows. He didn’t care where they were going or what was in their way. Darkened houses passed by in a blur until a sign for Macomb Street appeared out of the fog.
Chapter 6
Lexie’s House
“W hich way?” Travis barked. For a frightening moment he didn’t recognize the street. Porch lights glimmered up and down the hill. They were on Macomb, but where? The wrong side of 34th again? All at once he got his bearings. A familiar hedge appeared, and the pickets of an iron fence, and a tall shape with grasping arms that shrank to an old oak he’d passed hundreds of times before. Just tree limbs. Just a few blocks to go.
Then they heard a thump, and another thump. Two lights gleamed through the shifting fog. At first he thought two burning yellow eyeballs were pursuing them, rolling up the hill. He held his breath. The lights blazed. A white truck appeared, and an arm shot out the window, tossing newspapers in long arcs toward the porch steps. They landed with soft thumps in the wet grass.
“Stop, stop, help us, please,” Lexie shouted, who still had her wits about her.
The driver gave them a startled look, gunned the motor, and took off.
They kept running uphill. At last the hedge around her house appeared, followed by white columns and railings. They made the porch. “Let me find my key,” she whispered, tearing through her pockets. Once they were inside, she slammed and locked the door and turned on the hall lamp. Black shadows flew like long distorted arms over the walls.
“She killed that guy,” Lexie said, wild-eyed.
“Killed him?” Travis said. “She ate him like a ham sandwich.”
“She
flew
. Did you see that? She flew up on the roof of that house.”
“I’m going to check the doors and windows,” he said, and forced his feet to move. They went through the first floor together, closed drapes that had been open all day, checked locks, and turned on every lamp in every room. Light flooded the spacious house, drove away the evening shadows, and lit up Burke’s antiques and paintings.
Lexie went back to the kitchen, set her camera on the black granite counter, took out a French press to make coffee, and
Similar Books
