Read Online Rising Fears by Michaelbrent Collings - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Michaelbrent Collings
Ads: Link
roach flew off his hand, Jason's flailing propelling it through the air until it hit a wall and fell into the dark space between two filing cabinets. Jason could hear it scuttling about between the metal cases, its carapace bouncing off the cabinets as it hurried to the darkness that it called home.
Then it was silent. As quiet as though it had disappeared.
Maybe it has .
Jason watched the file cabinets intently for a long moment, more than half expecting a black crayon to come rolling out at him.
But nothing did.
The roach was silent.
The room was quiet.
The only noise was the noise in his heart, which was pumping at a furious pace. Thud-dud, thud-dud, thud-dud....
Then Jason jumped so hard it felt like his skeleton had fractured when the phone rang. He stabbed the speaker button and Hatty's voice came through. "FBI office on the line," she said.
He hit the speaker button again and then picked up the phone. And his heart sank. Instead of the strong voice of a young FBI agent in training, he heard a faraway whisper, interspersed with static. "This is...FBI field...e help you...."
Jason frowned. Perfect, he thought.
"Sorry," he said. "Can you say again?"
Again, the whisper came through. "We got...call about...."
Then the line cut off. There was no dial tone, even, only a strange, high-pitched hissing that hurt Jason's ears within a matter of seconds. He toggled the disconnect button a few times, but there was no improvement, so he hung up and resorted to the ultimate request for aid: "Hatty!"
The woman appeared at the doorway in an instant. "What's going on with the phone lines, again?" he asked.
Hatty frowned. "Don't know, exactly. They've been acting spotty all week. We can call places in town all right, but out of town calls are a problem."
Jason felt fear rise up in his gut, a feeling like ice and fire at the same time. Cold enough to burn, hot enough to freeze. He pushed it down, focusing on Hatty, and felt his fear ebb, morphing into anger. "Really?" he snapped. "Is there anything else I should know before I try to call someone who can actually help? Like, say, the FBI ?"
Hatty pursed her lips and squinted angrily, and suddenly his own rage dissipated, replaced by fear for the force of nature that was Hatty Reeves. "Don't you get smart with me, Sheriff," she snapped. "I slapped your ass when you were five for giving me lip and I'll do it again if you keep up that attitude."
Jason tried to keep his anger going, but knew it was misplaced; was worse than that, it was just plain wrong of him to be lashing out at someone who had tried to hold the town together for him in his absence.
"Sorry, Hatty, I just-" he began, but Hatty cut him off.
"Oh, I'm sorry, too, Sheriff. Everything's gone all wrong here, hasn't it?"
Jason put his head in his hands, feeling the dull throb of a headache beginning. "I've got to find him, Hatty," he said.
Hatty patted him on the hand, and he didn't have to see her face to tell she was as worried about him as anything else. "If anyone can, you will, Sheriff." Then she moved back to the doorway and said, "I'll try to get the FBI back on the horn."
"Don't worry about it, Hatty. I'll email them a report and that'll get through for sure. They'll have someone out here by tonight, I imagine."
"We could use the help, couldn't we?"
"Got that right."
Hatty nodded at him and then went back out the door, closing it softly behind her.
Jason turned to his computer, which Hatty had turned on for him at some point during the day. He clicked open the internet application, then clicked his "Favorites" file to bring up the "FBI - Office of Law Enforcement Coordination" website. He clicked a link, opening an email message, and began typing a lengthy email detailing the situation in Rising as far as he knew it. He glanced at the two crayon notes from time to time, but for the most part tried to remain focused on his task, attempting to make the email as concise and to-the-point as possible: he
Then it was silent. As quiet as though it had disappeared.
Maybe it has .
Jason watched the file cabinets intently for a long moment, more than half expecting a black crayon to come rolling out at him.
But nothing did.
The roach was silent.
The room was quiet.
The only noise was the noise in his heart, which was pumping at a furious pace. Thud-dud, thud-dud, thud-dud....
Then Jason jumped so hard it felt like his skeleton had fractured when the phone rang. He stabbed the speaker button and Hatty's voice came through. "FBI office on the line," she said.
He hit the speaker button again and then picked up the phone. And his heart sank. Instead of the strong voice of a young FBI agent in training, he heard a faraway whisper, interspersed with static. "This is...FBI field...e help you...."
Jason frowned. Perfect, he thought.
"Sorry," he said. "Can you say again?"
Again, the whisper came through. "We got...call about...."
Then the line cut off. There was no dial tone, even, only a strange, high-pitched hissing that hurt Jason's ears within a matter of seconds. He toggled the disconnect button a few times, but there was no improvement, so he hung up and resorted to the ultimate request for aid: "Hatty!"
The woman appeared at the doorway in an instant. "What's going on with the phone lines, again?" he asked.
Hatty frowned. "Don't know, exactly. They've been acting spotty all week. We can call places in town all right, but out of town calls are a problem."
Jason felt fear rise up in his gut, a feeling like ice and fire at the same time. Cold enough to burn, hot enough to freeze. He pushed it down, focusing on Hatty, and felt his fear ebb, morphing into anger. "Really?" he snapped. "Is there anything else I should know before I try to call someone who can actually help? Like, say, the FBI ?"
Hatty pursed her lips and squinted angrily, and suddenly his own rage dissipated, replaced by fear for the force of nature that was Hatty Reeves. "Don't you get smart with me, Sheriff," she snapped. "I slapped your ass when you were five for giving me lip and I'll do it again if you keep up that attitude."
Jason tried to keep his anger going, but knew it was misplaced; was worse than that, it was just plain wrong of him to be lashing out at someone who had tried to hold the town together for him in his absence.
"Sorry, Hatty, I just-" he began, but Hatty cut him off.
"Oh, I'm sorry, too, Sheriff. Everything's gone all wrong here, hasn't it?"
Jason put his head in his hands, feeling the dull throb of a headache beginning. "I've got to find him, Hatty," he said.
Hatty patted him on the hand, and he didn't have to see her face to tell she was as worried about him as anything else. "If anyone can, you will, Sheriff." Then she moved back to the doorway and said, "I'll try to get the FBI back on the horn."
"Don't worry about it, Hatty. I'll email them a report and that'll get through for sure. They'll have someone out here by tonight, I imagine."
"We could use the help, couldn't we?"
"Got that right."
Hatty nodded at him and then went back out the door, closing it softly behind her.
Jason turned to his computer, which Hatty had turned on for him at some point during the day. He clicked open the internet application, then clicked his "Favorites" file to bring up the "FBI - Office of Law Enforcement Coordination" website. He clicked a link, opening an email message, and began typing a lengthy email detailing the situation in Rising as far as he knew it. He glanced at the two crayon notes from time to time, but for the most part tried to remain focused on his task, attempting to make the email as concise and to-the-point as possible: he
Similar Books
