Read Online Primal Shift: Episode 2 by Griffin Hayes - Free Book Online
Authors: Griffin Hayes
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countryside, never bothering to ask, for the simple reason that Bud probably didn’t know what it was either.
Dana Hatfield
Bernal Heights
Dana didn’t need to go far to find a chink in their armor. A few streets over, several cars were parked bumper to bumper, blocking the road, but no one was manning the checkpoint. Wasn’t a surprise either; because Bernal Heights was mostly laid out in a grid, almost all of it built after the great fire of 1906, securing every street that led into the neighborhood would require an army. Dana left the Nissan around the corner and got out on foot. The family house was a quaint light blue deal on the corner of Bocana and Holy Park. The sound of gunfire in the distance made her jump. She thought again about what the two at the checkpoint had said.
Jeffereys is going house to house as we speak.
Dana quickened her step, turning the corner and found the front door to the family home ajar. Her pulse quickened. She unholstered the SIG and used it to nudge the door open.
“Dad, you here?”
No answer.
The house was a two floor job, with an old leather sofa set in the living room and a brown carpet, a frayed path worn between the couch and the kitchen. Since Mom had passed, her father spent most of his time watching 24 hour cable news channels and occasionally taking walks in the park across the street.
She made her way toward the bedrooms. Three in total, one on either side of the hall and the third at the end.
“Holler if you’re here, Dad,” she called out again, but the only response was gloomy silence.
She reached the master bedroom. Things looked normal. Dad had a habit of using the floor as a hamper. She’d tried in vain to get him to pick up after himself. “I’m not your maid,” she’d say, but the old bugger was used to Mom cleaning up his mess. Dana was about to leave when she spotted the blood on the floor. Her heart fluttered like a snare drum. Blood wasn’t more than few drops. But part of it was smeared, as though Dad had taken a knock to the head and fallen down.
If those assholes hurt him...
She stormed from the bedroom and gave the other rooms a cursory glance, without finding any other sign of him.
A new plan was forming in her head. Find Jeffereys and make him tell her what happened to her father. No more than a second later, a paralysing fear gripped her. She hadn’t looked everywhere.
They had a small fish pond out back. Dad had built it after Mom passed. Took his mind of being all alone, he told her. Fish might die here and there, but not all at once. They’d never all leave him alone. The pond itself wasn’t much larger than two bathtubs laid out side by side and buried in the soft earth. It was visible from the kitchen window and that’s exactly where Dana went, a heaviness to her step, as though her body didn’t want her to see what was there.
She glanced out and the feeling in her belly was like free falling in one of those amusement rides. Her stomach rose up into her throat the minute she saw the body floating face down. Perhaps he’d been sprinkling food to the fish when the lights in the sky had come and wiped out every last bit of common sense. Wouldn’t have taken more than a slip to send him reeling into the pond. The fish were still alive, swimming around just like any other day.
Or had Jeffereys done this? Had he found her father in the backyard, babbling incoherently and thrown him into the water? The thought of giving him a proper burial somehow seemed less important than finding Jeffereys, looking into his eyes and finding the truth. She’d done the same to Alvarez and a single word had come back in blinding white colors.
Murderer.
The tears and the proper burial would come after.
Dana was out the front door a second later and that’s when she realized that finding Jeffereys’ wasn’t going to be necessary after all. He’d already found her.
“Drop the piece, missy, less you want us to shred you on your own
Dana Hatfield
Bernal Heights
Dana didn’t need to go far to find a chink in their armor. A few streets over, several cars were parked bumper to bumper, blocking the road, but no one was manning the checkpoint. Wasn’t a surprise either; because Bernal Heights was mostly laid out in a grid, almost all of it built after the great fire of 1906, securing every street that led into the neighborhood would require an army. Dana left the Nissan around the corner and got out on foot. The family house was a quaint light blue deal on the corner of Bocana and Holy Park. The sound of gunfire in the distance made her jump. She thought again about what the two at the checkpoint had said.
Jeffereys is going house to house as we speak.
Dana quickened her step, turning the corner and found the front door to the family home ajar. Her pulse quickened. She unholstered the SIG and used it to nudge the door open.
“Dad, you here?”
No answer.
The house was a two floor job, with an old leather sofa set in the living room and a brown carpet, a frayed path worn between the couch and the kitchen. Since Mom had passed, her father spent most of his time watching 24 hour cable news channels and occasionally taking walks in the park across the street.
She made her way toward the bedrooms. Three in total, one on either side of the hall and the third at the end.
“Holler if you’re here, Dad,” she called out again, but the only response was gloomy silence.
She reached the master bedroom. Things looked normal. Dad had a habit of using the floor as a hamper. She’d tried in vain to get him to pick up after himself. “I’m not your maid,” she’d say, but the old bugger was used to Mom cleaning up his mess. Dana was about to leave when she spotted the blood on the floor. Her heart fluttered like a snare drum. Blood wasn’t more than few drops. But part of it was smeared, as though Dad had taken a knock to the head and fallen down.
If those assholes hurt him...
She stormed from the bedroom and gave the other rooms a cursory glance, without finding any other sign of him.
A new plan was forming in her head. Find Jeffereys and make him tell her what happened to her father. No more than a second later, a paralysing fear gripped her. She hadn’t looked everywhere.
They had a small fish pond out back. Dad had built it after Mom passed. Took his mind of being all alone, he told her. Fish might die here and there, but not all at once. They’d never all leave him alone. The pond itself wasn’t much larger than two bathtubs laid out side by side and buried in the soft earth. It was visible from the kitchen window and that’s exactly where Dana went, a heaviness to her step, as though her body didn’t want her to see what was there.
She glanced out and the feeling in her belly was like free falling in one of those amusement rides. Her stomach rose up into her throat the minute she saw the body floating face down. Perhaps he’d been sprinkling food to the fish when the lights in the sky had come and wiped out every last bit of common sense. Wouldn’t have taken more than a slip to send him reeling into the pond. The fish were still alive, swimming around just like any other day.
Or had Jeffereys done this? Had he found her father in the backyard, babbling incoherently and thrown him into the water? The thought of giving him a proper burial somehow seemed less important than finding Jeffereys, looking into his eyes and finding the truth. She’d done the same to Alvarez and a single word had come back in blinding white colors.
Murderer.
The tears and the proper burial would come after.
Dana was out the front door a second later and that’s when she realized that finding Jeffereys’ wasn’t going to be necessary after all. He’d already found her.
“Drop the piece, missy, less you want us to shred you on your own
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