Read Online Seven Kinds of Hell by Dana Cameron - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Dana Cameron
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you can settle someplace and do a little better by your own kids. I don’t think they’ll be able to find you. I was careful, and you’ve probably guessed by now, Miller’s not really your last name either. It’s a nice name, though, one I took from good folks I met along my way. You should know that much, anyway; there’s not much more I can tell you.
Remember what I said at the beginning of this? It’s the same now, and always: I love you, Zoe.
Your Ma
I put the letter down carefully. It sounded like “Ma-at-home,” not “Ma-at-the-university,” when she’d finally been able to start taking college classes herself; it was comforting, and the professional analyst in me speculated that the intimacy of the language implied truth as well. The contents explained a lot, but opened up more mysteries. All I’d ever wanted was to have a normal life, in one place, for more than a year or two. Now I understood what drove Ma, and it helped, maybe just a little, to know she worried about being nuts, too.
She was wrong, though. My father’s people had found me. I didn’t share his last name—I guess now I didn’t even know what his name was—and yet they’d found me.
I began to consider the facts of the letter, began to wonder about the asylum, and wondered whether it was still full of people who might be like me. Were the ones in charge of the asylum coming after me? How many of us were there, and who knew about us?
Maybe Ma had never turned into a Beast in front of me, but I began to suspect both of my parents must have had something crazy going on, genetically speaking. I didn’t know much about biology, but it seemed to me you’d need both parents to contribute something to a Beastly child; otherwise, we’d all be monsters.
I pulled out the one picture I had of my dad and stared at it. It was the only way I knew him; the paper was blurry and creased, a candid taken in a lighthearted moment, with him backing away from my mother’s camera, his hands up in mock protest, bad eighties hair with a flop of bangs. Green eyes, like mine. Maybe I was imagining it, but his head was tilted in a way I found familiar from the mirror. I wanted to think they’d been happy.
Didn’t matter. I didn’t even know if he was dead or alive now. Maybe I’d share this with Danny, and maybe we could do some Internet research, just to see if anything popped up.
I glanced at the little yellow pencil box Ma had kept at Sean’s place, but was too tired for more ancient history. I wasn’t ready to expose the meagerness of my early memories. I spared one thought, wondering whether Sean had let Will know I’d popped up again, before I fell asleep.
Next morning, I got up early. I wanted to sneak out and pick up a few things and be on the road after breakfast. I regretted staying the night, though I hadn’t slept so well in ages. I just didn’t wantto draw the monsters to Danny. I’d had a lucky break last night in the cemetery. Had they abandoned me, acting on the impulse I’d also experienced?
I was dressed and found my way to the living room. Sean was awake and dressed, sitting on the couch flicking through the local news channels.
“Anything from yesterday?” I asked.
He shook his head. He noticed I was dressed and had my bag. “Where are you off to?”
“I need to get a few things.”
Something in the way I said it must have tipped him off. Sean’s face darkened, and he reached for his wallet. “I’ll come with you.”
“Honestly, Sean. I’m just going to find an ATM and a drugstore. I’m not going to take off without saying good-bye.”
Though I had considered it.
“Well, I could use the walk, and you could use the protection.”
“From what?”
“From guys like the ones we found in the cemetery last night. From the guys you jumped out a window to avoid.”
I grinned. “You make it sound so bad.”
But Sean wasn’t buying my attempt at levity. “I’m coming with you.”
“Keep it down,
Remember what I said at the beginning of this? It’s the same now, and always: I love you, Zoe.
Your Ma
I put the letter down carefully. It sounded like “Ma-at-home,” not “Ma-at-the-university,” when she’d finally been able to start taking college classes herself; it was comforting, and the professional analyst in me speculated that the intimacy of the language implied truth as well. The contents explained a lot, but opened up more mysteries. All I’d ever wanted was to have a normal life, in one place, for more than a year or two. Now I understood what drove Ma, and it helped, maybe just a little, to know she worried about being nuts, too.
She was wrong, though. My father’s people had found me. I didn’t share his last name—I guess now I didn’t even know what his name was—and yet they’d found me.
I began to consider the facts of the letter, began to wonder about the asylum, and wondered whether it was still full of people who might be like me. Were the ones in charge of the asylum coming after me? How many of us were there, and who knew about us?
Maybe Ma had never turned into a Beast in front of me, but I began to suspect both of my parents must have had something crazy going on, genetically speaking. I didn’t know much about biology, but it seemed to me you’d need both parents to contribute something to a Beastly child; otherwise, we’d all be monsters.
I pulled out the one picture I had of my dad and stared at it. It was the only way I knew him; the paper was blurry and creased, a candid taken in a lighthearted moment, with him backing away from my mother’s camera, his hands up in mock protest, bad eighties hair with a flop of bangs. Green eyes, like mine. Maybe I was imagining it, but his head was tilted in a way I found familiar from the mirror. I wanted to think they’d been happy.
Didn’t matter. I didn’t even know if he was dead or alive now. Maybe I’d share this with Danny, and maybe we could do some Internet research, just to see if anything popped up.
I glanced at the little yellow pencil box Ma had kept at Sean’s place, but was too tired for more ancient history. I wasn’t ready to expose the meagerness of my early memories. I spared one thought, wondering whether Sean had let Will know I’d popped up again, before I fell asleep.
Next morning, I got up early. I wanted to sneak out and pick up a few things and be on the road after breakfast. I regretted staying the night, though I hadn’t slept so well in ages. I just didn’t wantto draw the monsters to Danny. I’d had a lucky break last night in the cemetery. Had they abandoned me, acting on the impulse I’d also experienced?
I was dressed and found my way to the living room. Sean was awake and dressed, sitting on the couch flicking through the local news channels.
“Anything from yesterday?” I asked.
He shook his head. He noticed I was dressed and had my bag. “Where are you off to?”
“I need to get a few things.”
Something in the way I said it must have tipped him off. Sean’s face darkened, and he reached for his wallet. “I’ll come with you.”
“Honestly, Sean. I’m just going to find an ATM and a drugstore. I’m not going to take off without saying good-bye.”
Though I had considered it.
“Well, I could use the walk, and you could use the protection.”
“From what?”
“From guys like the ones we found in the cemetery last night. From the guys you jumped out a window to avoid.”
I grinned. “You make it sound so bad.”
But Sean wasn’t buying my attempt at levity. “I’m coming with you.”
“Keep it down,
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