Read Online More Than Life Itself by Joseph Nassise - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Joseph Nassise
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off.
If anyone had seen them, so be it.
After tonight, he was done anyway, he thought with grim satisfaction. No matter what, he'd saved his daughter, and that's all that mattered in the long run.
The stab wounds in his side hurt, but he knew they weren't serious. He'd lost a little blood, and would need to take care of them when he got home, but he certainly wasn't in any danger of bleeding to death. He passed the rest of the ride alternating between cursing himself for getting cocky and grunting in pain whenever he twisted his body in the wrong direction.
Fifteen minutes later he pulled off on the exit ramp, and shortly thereafter reached his home.
He triggered the garage remote as he pulled the car into the driveway, expecting to drive right inside, but nothing happened. The door stayed shut and he almost drove into it, so great was his surprise.
He stopped the car, shook the device and then tried again.
Nothing.
"Damn it! I don't need this!" He smacked the remote sharply against the dash and then gave it another try.
Still no joy.
Enraged, Sam threw the device against the passenger door, eliciting another flash of pain from his wounds, and then got out. He'd have to open the garage from inside the house.
A glance at his watch told him he was running horribly behind. He had only four hours to remove the organ, mix it into the shake, and get it over to Jessica.
He didn't think it would be enough time.
"Damn well gonna have to be enough, because I'm not starting this all over again!" he muttered under his breath as he got out of the car. He slammed the car door and stalked up his front stairs.
In his anger, he didn't notice that the deadbolt was disengaged or that the key turned too easily in the lock.
He moved swiftly down the dark hallway, intent on reaching the kitchen and, through it, the garage. As he passed the living room, he caught a sense of motion out of the corner of his eye.
He turned.
A large, shadowed figure loomed there, larger than he was.
He experienced a moment of stunned surprise when a hard, gun-like object was pressed against his chest, but that was quickly obliterated when the taser went off, sending twenty-five Watts of power jolting through his body.
Then, darkness.
***
When Sam came to, he found himself blindfolded and tied to a chair. His mouth was dry and the back of his head hurt where he had been struck, but he seemed otherwise uninjured. He struggled against his bonds, but soon gave up the effort; they were just too secure.
"Hello? Anyone there?" he asked.
The answer was immediate, as if they had been waiting for him to speak. It was a woman's voice, full of sorrow and regret.
"I'm sorry you've had to go through this, Mr Dalton. Very sorry. About all of it. But I didn't have a choice."
"Sorry about what?" Sam asked, but the woman went on speaking as if she hadn't heard.
"I know it was difficult for you. Losing your wife couldn't have been easy. But we did what we could to make it quick without breaking the rules of the game. We do have some compassion, after all."
At the mention of his wife, Sam froze.
"I didn't want to do that to your daughter, truly, but Gray insisted. And that experimental disease culture stolen from his lab sure did the trick. We'd already come this far, there was no sense stopping now. It was going so well, too, until you found that stupid book." The woman's voice changed, became harder, fiercer. "Why'd you have to do that? Why couldn't you just leave it alone?"
Sam's thoughts reeled. They'd killed his wife? Infected his daughter?
"No matter now, I suppose. It's Monday. You do know what that means, don't you, Mr Dalton?"
Monday? No. No, it couldn't be. If it was Monday that meant …
"The cycle is broken." The anger had been replaced with gloating. "The changes you've managed to impose will swiftly reverse themselves. All your efforts will have been for nothing."
Instinctively, Sam knew she was right. The manuscript had been specific; seven
If anyone had seen them, so be it.
After tonight, he was done anyway, he thought with grim satisfaction. No matter what, he'd saved his daughter, and that's all that mattered in the long run.
The stab wounds in his side hurt, but he knew they weren't serious. He'd lost a little blood, and would need to take care of them when he got home, but he certainly wasn't in any danger of bleeding to death. He passed the rest of the ride alternating between cursing himself for getting cocky and grunting in pain whenever he twisted his body in the wrong direction.
Fifteen minutes later he pulled off on the exit ramp, and shortly thereafter reached his home.
He triggered the garage remote as he pulled the car into the driveway, expecting to drive right inside, but nothing happened. The door stayed shut and he almost drove into it, so great was his surprise.
He stopped the car, shook the device and then tried again.
Nothing.
"Damn it! I don't need this!" He smacked the remote sharply against the dash and then gave it another try.
Still no joy.
Enraged, Sam threw the device against the passenger door, eliciting another flash of pain from his wounds, and then got out. He'd have to open the garage from inside the house.
A glance at his watch told him he was running horribly behind. He had only four hours to remove the organ, mix it into the shake, and get it over to Jessica.
He didn't think it would be enough time.
"Damn well gonna have to be enough, because I'm not starting this all over again!" he muttered under his breath as he got out of the car. He slammed the car door and stalked up his front stairs.
In his anger, he didn't notice that the deadbolt was disengaged or that the key turned too easily in the lock.
He moved swiftly down the dark hallway, intent on reaching the kitchen and, through it, the garage. As he passed the living room, he caught a sense of motion out of the corner of his eye.
He turned.
A large, shadowed figure loomed there, larger than he was.
He experienced a moment of stunned surprise when a hard, gun-like object was pressed against his chest, but that was quickly obliterated when the taser went off, sending twenty-five Watts of power jolting through his body.
Then, darkness.
***
When Sam came to, he found himself blindfolded and tied to a chair. His mouth was dry and the back of his head hurt where he had been struck, but he seemed otherwise uninjured. He struggled against his bonds, but soon gave up the effort; they were just too secure.
"Hello? Anyone there?" he asked.
The answer was immediate, as if they had been waiting for him to speak. It was a woman's voice, full of sorrow and regret.
"I'm sorry you've had to go through this, Mr Dalton. Very sorry. About all of it. But I didn't have a choice."
"Sorry about what?" Sam asked, but the woman went on speaking as if she hadn't heard.
"I know it was difficult for you. Losing your wife couldn't have been easy. But we did what we could to make it quick without breaking the rules of the game. We do have some compassion, after all."
At the mention of his wife, Sam froze.
"I didn't want to do that to your daughter, truly, but Gray insisted. And that experimental disease culture stolen from his lab sure did the trick. We'd already come this far, there was no sense stopping now. It was going so well, too, until you found that stupid book." The woman's voice changed, became harder, fiercer. "Why'd you have to do that? Why couldn't you just leave it alone?"
Sam's thoughts reeled. They'd killed his wife? Infected his daughter?
"No matter now, I suppose. It's Monday. You do know what that means, don't you, Mr Dalton?"
Monday? No. No, it couldn't be. If it was Monday that meant …
"The cycle is broken." The anger had been replaced with gloating. "The changes you've managed to impose will swiftly reverse themselves. All your efforts will have been for nothing."
Instinctively, Sam knew she was right. The manuscript had been specific; seven
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