Read Online Rise & Walk (Book 2): Pathogen by Gregory Solis - Free Book Online

yards from the edge of her lawn, Margaret McCormack stood at the mouth of the cul-de-sac.  Her lower back burned from what had been an unusually long walk for her age.  Her tin flashlight felt cold in her left hand; in her right the scissors were just as cold.  The flashlight shook as she he pushed the stiff plastic switch upwards.  A sad ray of light struggled through the plastic lens, browned from many years. 
    “No,” Margaret shuddered as she shook the flashlight.  It blinked slightly brighter for a moment then resumed its dim shade. Reflecting a small smear of light on the street, she oriented herself to walk straight into the court then turned off the poor flashlight to conserve its power.  With some effort, she proceeded into Pushkin Court.
    An unreal stillness surrounded Margaret.  Her hearing certainly wasn’t what it once was but the lack of any background noise seemed to amplify her footsteps.  Each scuffle, each placing of her tiny feet, resounded in the thick air.  Her calves burned from disuse.  Her tendons groaned like tiny stressed cables, fraying at the joints.  One small hand cramped around the Ray-O-Vac, the other holding the night at bay with a pair of scissors.  If one could see the poor woman in the surrounding dark, they would see her once beautiful eyes now wide with fright.  She was reminded of a time when she was a young girl after seeing the movie “Cat People” with her friend Katherine, how the film had left her so awfully frightened.  Walking home she was so afraid that some cat-person was waiting to pounce on her from the bushes, she had walked up the center of the road the entire way home, fearful that each new yard was home to some predatory beast.  Margaret almost had to laugh that seventy years later she was again walking up the center of the road. 
    She tried to walk slower, to ease the pain creeping up her legs.  She rolled her foot from heel to toe and walked more deliberately.  I must be careful , she thought.  At her age, the fear of falling was a constant threat.  Margaret always feared that breaking a hip was a death sentence to someone her age.   She paused for a moment to rest her burning calves, but the sound of shuffling feet continued. The sound continued from behind her; a shuffling not her own.  She heard a faint crunch from in front of her. Stupid girl, why did you have to leave the house ?  Margaret turned around towards the shuffling sound and pushed the hard plastic switch on her flashlight. It flickered with a final yellow flash as the lamp-bulb burned out.  Margaret, frightened beyond all measure, turned again to her original direction and set out as fast as her pained legs would allow.  One foot after another, she moved faster and faster until her efforts brought her a painful limp but still her pace wasn’t enough.  She kept the dead flashlight with the intention of bashing anything that got in her way.
     
    *****
     
    Mason bristled with anticipation.  He couldn’t see a damn thing in the dark but he could hear a faint scraping sound ahead.  He needed some light down-range.  Without a flashlight to cast a beam, he was left with little choice.  Go back to the truck and wait for what ever it was to get closer, or head off the issue here.  He considered the road flare.  Setting his sword down, he removed the flare from his pocket.  If I do this, it’s gonna blow my night vision , he thought.  A small reflection out of the darkness caught his eye and then vanished.  He almost doubted his eyes.  That’s it, I’m sick of this bullshit .  Keeping his eyes closed to protect his night-vision, he struck the top of the flare.  On the second try, he heard the Whoosh of ignition.  Raising the flare high above his head, he opened his left eye. Mason grasped his sword by the scabbard and stood. The flare glowed orange in a radius of about eight feet, not enough to see anything approaching. He hurled the flare down the street.
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