Read Online Nigh - Book 1 by Marie Bilodeau - Free Book Online
Authors: Marie Bilodeau
Tags: apocalypse, End of the world, fairy, fairy tale action adventure, fairy tale adaptation, apocalypse adventures, fairy creatures, endtime fiction
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the back and gazed out the
window. Al wanted to take his hand and tell him everything would be
okay, but they still couldn’t reach his children, or his
grandchildren. And he’d just witnessed his wife vanish, or die, or
whatever that was.
She wasn’t sure she could tell him everything would
be okay. The lie refused to tumble from her lips.
***
The yellow bus had come to a stop in a field by a
quiet road in the country. Al pulled Percival to the side of the
road and threw on her four ways, for good measure. There were no
emergency vehicles or any other vehicles around. The yellow bus was
perfectly quiet and stopped by a shimmering lake. Al felt nauseated
at the thought that the creatures from the bridge might have gotten
her sister, too.
She exited the vehicle with Hector and Molly. She
grabbed Big Bertha and her tool belt. They needed to get those
doors open somehow.
The sun was comforting. There was no breeze blowing,
and it was turning into a warm day for fall. The field was still
covered in green grass, running down a small hill toward the bus,
reeds the only thing separating it from the water.
“If anything happens, we meet back at Percival,
okay?” Al instructed. Molly nodded and looked at Percival as
thought noting its position in the deepest trenches of her
memory.
“Let’s go,” Al said, walking toward the bus. Molly
waved, and Al grinned when she spotted Pete through the window. The
bus’s windows were all closed and it was covered in vines.
“No wonder they couldn’t get out,” Molly muttered.
“Hope you have garden shears in your tool belt.”
“Wire cutters. That oughta do.” She pulled them out
and grinned.
“You would have made an awesome scout,” Molly
said.
They reached the bus and dozens of faces looked at
them through the windows. Al focused on Pete. A rare smile of
gratitude spread her lips apart. Her face seemed even paler than
usual under her veil of long dyed black hair. Al smiled back and
headed around the bus, near the water, to cut the vines keeping the
doors closed. They were thick and it took all of her strength to
get through them. She just needed to get the doors free and they
could all leave.
Maybe she could get all of the vines off and they
could get the bus going again. Pete would ride with them, but the
bus could head back into town. It seemed sensible enough.
Al had just managed to cut one vine when Molly came
around to join her.
“This will take a while,” Al said, grunting.
“Al…” Molly whispered, pointing to the river.
Al’s blood turned cold and she turned around slowly.
The waters were still calm, but the shimmer on it moved in
patterns. They had formed curved lines and danced up and down,
toward the shore then away again. She was cold and realized the sun
wasn’t touching her anymore, despite the fact that it still
shimmered on the water and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.
She stood in a shadow. The bus was casting a shadow
on her, even though the sun was in full sight. And on this side of
the bus. Molly grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the door.
Al was too stunned to fight back.
They reached the sun again, but the shadows of a
tree inched towards them. The shadow from the bus began shifting as
well. Towards them.
As though it hunted them.
Chapter 8
Hector saw the shadows shift and he clicked on the
button atop the watch to pop the front open. The hands of the watch
were quivering with effort to continue forward, skipped and jumped
irregularly, twitching as they reached 10:24. The time of Stella’s
death.
He tried winding it again, but the whole mechanism
refused to shift, as though the gears had gained a mind of their
own.
He closed it, pocketed the watch as he started
running toward Alva and Molly.
They were in a field, beside water, in tall grass…
He could see the sun dancing on the waters, could smell the mists
on the air, a sickening mix of lavender and sugar.
“We have to go!” he screamed, trying
window. Al wanted to take his hand and tell him everything would be
okay, but they still couldn’t reach his children, or his
grandchildren. And he’d just witnessed his wife vanish, or die, or
whatever that was.
She wasn’t sure she could tell him everything would
be okay. The lie refused to tumble from her lips.
***
The yellow bus had come to a stop in a field by a
quiet road in the country. Al pulled Percival to the side of the
road and threw on her four ways, for good measure. There were no
emergency vehicles or any other vehicles around. The yellow bus was
perfectly quiet and stopped by a shimmering lake. Al felt nauseated
at the thought that the creatures from the bridge might have gotten
her sister, too.
She exited the vehicle with Hector and Molly. She
grabbed Big Bertha and her tool belt. They needed to get those
doors open somehow.
The sun was comforting. There was no breeze blowing,
and it was turning into a warm day for fall. The field was still
covered in green grass, running down a small hill toward the bus,
reeds the only thing separating it from the water.
“If anything happens, we meet back at Percival,
okay?” Al instructed. Molly nodded and looked at Percival as
thought noting its position in the deepest trenches of her
memory.
“Let’s go,” Al said, walking toward the bus. Molly
waved, and Al grinned when she spotted Pete through the window. The
bus’s windows were all closed and it was covered in vines.
“No wonder they couldn’t get out,” Molly muttered.
“Hope you have garden shears in your tool belt.”
“Wire cutters. That oughta do.” She pulled them out
and grinned.
“You would have made an awesome scout,” Molly
said.
They reached the bus and dozens of faces looked at
them through the windows. Al focused on Pete. A rare smile of
gratitude spread her lips apart. Her face seemed even paler than
usual under her veil of long dyed black hair. Al smiled back and
headed around the bus, near the water, to cut the vines keeping the
doors closed. They were thick and it took all of her strength to
get through them. She just needed to get the doors free and they
could all leave.
Maybe she could get all of the vines off and they
could get the bus going again. Pete would ride with them, but the
bus could head back into town. It seemed sensible enough.
Al had just managed to cut one vine when Molly came
around to join her.
“This will take a while,” Al said, grunting.
“Al…” Molly whispered, pointing to the river.
Al’s blood turned cold and she turned around slowly.
The waters were still calm, but the shimmer on it moved in
patterns. They had formed curved lines and danced up and down,
toward the shore then away again. She was cold and realized the sun
wasn’t touching her anymore, despite the fact that it still
shimmered on the water and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.
She stood in a shadow. The bus was casting a shadow
on her, even though the sun was in full sight. And on this side of
the bus. Molly grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the door.
Al was too stunned to fight back.
They reached the sun again, but the shadows of a
tree inched towards them. The shadow from the bus began shifting as
well. Towards them.
As though it hunted them.
Chapter 8
Hector saw the shadows shift and he clicked on the
button atop the watch to pop the front open. The hands of the watch
were quivering with effort to continue forward, skipped and jumped
irregularly, twitching as they reached 10:24. The time of Stella’s
death.
He tried winding it again, but the whole mechanism
refused to shift, as though the gears had gained a mind of their
own.
He closed it, pocketed the watch as he started
running toward Alva and Molly.
They were in a field, beside water, in tall grass…
He could see the sun dancing on the waters, could smell the mists
on the air, a sickening mix of lavender and sugar.
“We have to go!” he screamed, trying
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