Read Online Nemesis: Book Five by David Beers - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: David Beers
Ads: Link
still kept trying to walk forward. He was slowing, but not stopping. Had Michael ever seen someone with such drive, such intense focus even though the creature was essentially doomed?
Wren screamed from behind Briten, and Michael heard his feet pounding on the pavement.
NO! he shouted at Briten. NO! He can't come out here! Turn around and stop him!
Even as he screamed, he knew that wouldn't happen, knew that nothing would stop Briten from moving on until the strands ripped his body apart. Yet his father didn't stop either; Michael heard him screaming, though he no longer heard his feet slamming against the pavement.
Becausehesnotonthepavementanymorechristhesonthestrands.
Panic rose inside Michael, panic and a deep fear that he had never felt about his father before. His father was dying, was going to die, behind him where Michael couldn't see.
The screams changed abruptly, from Wren yelling at Michael to a primal burst that told Michael one thing—the strands had him too. Wren shrieked, and Michael almost felt the pain erupting in his body as the strands reached his feet and started climbing up his body—quickly, because they wanted him, his body and whatever they could get out of it.
TURN AROUND! PLEASE!
But nothing Michael said made any difference. He didn't even know if Briten heard him. The strands to the front and side of his body were covered in blood, looking like red snow. Briten's own mind was shutting down, Michael could feel it, because the pain grew too much for him. The only thought still beating through him was Morena, Morena, Morena.
Wren's screams grew in intensity as Briten's strength weakened.
* * *
T he creature started walking forward and Wren understood at once what it meant to do. This thing could go no further by car, and now it meant to go by foot. Wren was fine with that, all of it, except for the part involving his son as the method of transport.
That couldn't happen, no matter what.
Wren hopped from the car, knowing that he would need to run to catch up with the alien. He didn't want to alert it, so he kept his mouth closed as he rushed forward. Tackle it, bring it down, knock it out if he had to. It didn't matter, just as long as it didn't reach that white shit.
Only the thing was too goddamn fast. Its feet pounded against the ground like pistons in a car, propelling it forward with a speed Wren couldn't hope to match.
He didn't stop though. If the alien went forward, then Wren did too. White strands or the pits of hell, Wren was following. He didn't look back at Bryan, didn't even think about the other person involved in all this.
"MICHAEL! STOP!" he screamed, his lungs forcing out the words as hard as they possibly could. "MICHAEL!"
He knew Michael wasn't in charge, but he knew nothing else to say, no other way to ask. His own legs kept moving, slamming up and down as fast as they could, forgetting momentarily about the years of drinking that laid waste to his body. All that mattered was stopping this creature, stopping Michael from what would come when he touched the strands.
But Wren was too late.
He watched as the alien crossed the threshold, and even as Wren kept running, he saw the strands wrapping themselves around his boy's foot, digging in like hungry wolves. The alien didn't make any sounds, only kept rushing forward. For a single moment, Wren recognized that he would cross the threshold too, and that what he saw happening to Michael would happen to him. A flicker of fear lit in his mind, but died as soon as it showed its face, like a lighter in a wind.
Wren went forward, leaping as far as he could from the pavement into the white strands, feeling the footing beneath him change from the hard of rock to the soft of something living.
It'llbefinejustkeepgoing.
He didn't look down as the strands grabbed hold of him just as they had Michael. He didn't look down when he felt the first one dive into his foot, though the pain radiated like a nuclear bomb, sending off
Wren screamed from behind Briten, and Michael heard his feet pounding on the pavement.
NO! he shouted at Briten. NO! He can't come out here! Turn around and stop him!
Even as he screamed, he knew that wouldn't happen, knew that nothing would stop Briten from moving on until the strands ripped his body apart. Yet his father didn't stop either; Michael heard him screaming, though he no longer heard his feet slamming against the pavement.
Becausehesnotonthepavementanymorechristhesonthestrands.
Panic rose inside Michael, panic and a deep fear that he had never felt about his father before. His father was dying, was going to die, behind him where Michael couldn't see.
The screams changed abruptly, from Wren yelling at Michael to a primal burst that told Michael one thing—the strands had him too. Wren shrieked, and Michael almost felt the pain erupting in his body as the strands reached his feet and started climbing up his body—quickly, because they wanted him, his body and whatever they could get out of it.
TURN AROUND! PLEASE!
But nothing Michael said made any difference. He didn't even know if Briten heard him. The strands to the front and side of his body were covered in blood, looking like red snow. Briten's own mind was shutting down, Michael could feel it, because the pain grew too much for him. The only thought still beating through him was Morena, Morena, Morena.
Wren's screams grew in intensity as Briten's strength weakened.
* * *
T he creature started walking forward and Wren understood at once what it meant to do. This thing could go no further by car, and now it meant to go by foot. Wren was fine with that, all of it, except for the part involving his son as the method of transport.
That couldn't happen, no matter what.
Wren hopped from the car, knowing that he would need to run to catch up with the alien. He didn't want to alert it, so he kept his mouth closed as he rushed forward. Tackle it, bring it down, knock it out if he had to. It didn't matter, just as long as it didn't reach that white shit.
Only the thing was too goddamn fast. Its feet pounded against the ground like pistons in a car, propelling it forward with a speed Wren couldn't hope to match.
He didn't stop though. If the alien went forward, then Wren did too. White strands or the pits of hell, Wren was following. He didn't look back at Bryan, didn't even think about the other person involved in all this.
"MICHAEL! STOP!" he screamed, his lungs forcing out the words as hard as they possibly could. "MICHAEL!"
He knew Michael wasn't in charge, but he knew nothing else to say, no other way to ask. His own legs kept moving, slamming up and down as fast as they could, forgetting momentarily about the years of drinking that laid waste to his body. All that mattered was stopping this creature, stopping Michael from what would come when he touched the strands.
But Wren was too late.
He watched as the alien crossed the threshold, and even as Wren kept running, he saw the strands wrapping themselves around his boy's foot, digging in like hungry wolves. The alien didn't make any sounds, only kept rushing forward. For a single moment, Wren recognized that he would cross the threshold too, and that what he saw happening to Michael would happen to him. A flicker of fear lit in his mind, but died as soon as it showed its face, like a lighter in a wind.
Wren went forward, leaping as far as he could from the pavement into the white strands, feeling the footing beneath him change from the hard of rock to the soft of something living.
It'llbefinejustkeepgoing.
He didn't look down as the strands grabbed hold of him just as they had Michael. He didn't look down when he felt the first one dive into his foot, though the pain radiated like a nuclear bomb, sending off
Similar Books
