Read Online Shivers 7 by Stephen King, Clive Barker, Bill Pronzini, Graham Masterton, Rio Youers, Ed Gorman, Rick Hautala, Norman Partridge, Norman Prentiss - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Stephen King, Clive Barker, Bill Pronzini, Graham Masterton, Rio Youers, Ed Gorman, Rick Hautala, Norman Partridge, Norman Prentiss
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human.”
The punchline to his story echoed in the forest; the flashlight was off, the moon had gone behind a cloud, the trees were thicker overhead. “Good one,” Craig said, not intending a compliment. His friend laughed, like someone who had lost his mind.
Ridiculous. Skates was joking around. Eddie was angry, but he was fine. After all, this was the Storybook Forest. Nothing terrible ever happened here.
Clouds drifted away from the moon. In the distance, the facade of a castle appeared through the trees, a sign they’d nearly reached the site of the teacup ride. One of the turrets was split down the side—painted Plexiglas instead of stone. Branches hatched thick shadows across the castle’s decayed surface. From this angle, it really did look haunted.
They hurried up the path, hoping to rescue whatever was left of their friend.
Simple
Al Sarrantonio
Two boys.
Two girls.
Dusk.
Halloween.
* * *
The rising moon hung sharp-edged and near-full behind a gauzy blanket of clouds. Sidewalks rose and sank, up one gentle hill, down another, their cracks sprouting brown, dry grass. The wind, picking up winter-to-come’s chill, rattled the trees, making them shed—brown red yellow leaves which nestled against the gutters and rustled like there were living things beneath.
Two girls.
Two boys.
The town of Orangefield.
* * *
“I say he don’t exist!” insisted Excalibur, whose real name was Jim Gates. “I say it’s all hooey!” A night spent as an actual sword, made of stiff cardboard wrapped in aluminum foil with a face cut out the center had made him cranky and bold.
“Hell,” said his male companion, Gil, dressed like a simple cowboy, his brimming candy bag weighing him down, “you weren’t even born here! You just moved in! What do you know?” He frowned. “And your Great Uncle Riley was one of his victims !” The weight of the treasure bag finally became too much for him, and he put it down with an “Oooof!”
The girls, twins named Marcey and Carsey, remained silent, wide-eyed. Their own bags were on the ground already—it had been a profitable evening.
“I gotta be home—” Carsey said, as the silence lengthened, but Marcey gave her a dirty look, twitching her cat girl whiskers.
“No we don’t,” Marcey countered, her whiskers twitching again, one side of them falling off.
“Hey, we’re all ten years old, right?” Gil said, trying to stand tall, though he was the shortest of them, even with his cowboy hat on.
Jim narrowed his eyes. “What did you have in mind?”
Gil looked at the ground, but Marcey said, almost a shout, “Let’s go find ’im!”
Carsey’s eyes grew real wide, and she looked like she wanted to cry.
Then Gil looked up, and suddenly he smiled, and the rest smiled too, even Carsey, in a sad way.
And Excalibur, for a brief moment, shined with an almost blinding light as the Moon broke through the clouds and looked coldly down at the four of them.
* * *
They hid their candy in Ranier Park, between two big rocks with another across the top that made a cave. Gil swore it would be safe there, and when Jim protested he said, “You’re new here. Trust me.”
Jim looked back longingly at the small dark cave mouth as they walked away, but once again Gil repeated, “Trust me.”
Ten minutes later found them in the empty pumpkin patches of Schwartz’s farm. The ground was rutted, filled with rows of twisting dead pumpkin vines, already waiting for the winter to freeze them stiff and turn the furrows to brown icy ditches.
But here at the end of October the ground was still soft, the vines in the moonlight looked like twisting fingers.
“This is creepy,” Carsey said.
“This is where they first saw the Pumpkin Boy,” Gil countered. “It’s supposed to be creepy.”
“We’re not looking for the Pumpkin Boy,” Marcey remarked.
“I don’t believe that one, either,” Jim said, his jaw hurting from bumping against the lower cardboard cutout
The punchline to his story echoed in the forest; the flashlight was off, the moon had gone behind a cloud, the trees were thicker overhead. “Good one,” Craig said, not intending a compliment. His friend laughed, like someone who had lost his mind.
Ridiculous. Skates was joking around. Eddie was angry, but he was fine. After all, this was the Storybook Forest. Nothing terrible ever happened here.
Clouds drifted away from the moon. In the distance, the facade of a castle appeared through the trees, a sign they’d nearly reached the site of the teacup ride. One of the turrets was split down the side—painted Plexiglas instead of stone. Branches hatched thick shadows across the castle’s decayed surface. From this angle, it really did look haunted.
They hurried up the path, hoping to rescue whatever was left of their friend.
Simple
Al Sarrantonio
Two boys.
Two girls.
Dusk.
Halloween.
* * *
The rising moon hung sharp-edged and near-full behind a gauzy blanket of clouds. Sidewalks rose and sank, up one gentle hill, down another, their cracks sprouting brown, dry grass. The wind, picking up winter-to-come’s chill, rattled the trees, making them shed—brown red yellow leaves which nestled against the gutters and rustled like there were living things beneath.
Two girls.
Two boys.
The town of Orangefield.
* * *
“I say he don’t exist!” insisted Excalibur, whose real name was Jim Gates. “I say it’s all hooey!” A night spent as an actual sword, made of stiff cardboard wrapped in aluminum foil with a face cut out the center had made him cranky and bold.
“Hell,” said his male companion, Gil, dressed like a simple cowboy, his brimming candy bag weighing him down, “you weren’t even born here! You just moved in! What do you know?” He frowned. “And your Great Uncle Riley was one of his victims !” The weight of the treasure bag finally became too much for him, and he put it down with an “Oooof!”
The girls, twins named Marcey and Carsey, remained silent, wide-eyed. Their own bags were on the ground already—it had been a profitable evening.
“I gotta be home—” Carsey said, as the silence lengthened, but Marcey gave her a dirty look, twitching her cat girl whiskers.
“No we don’t,” Marcey countered, her whiskers twitching again, one side of them falling off.
“Hey, we’re all ten years old, right?” Gil said, trying to stand tall, though he was the shortest of them, even with his cowboy hat on.
Jim narrowed his eyes. “What did you have in mind?”
Gil looked at the ground, but Marcey said, almost a shout, “Let’s go find ’im!”
Carsey’s eyes grew real wide, and she looked like she wanted to cry.
Then Gil looked up, and suddenly he smiled, and the rest smiled too, even Carsey, in a sad way.
And Excalibur, for a brief moment, shined with an almost blinding light as the Moon broke through the clouds and looked coldly down at the four of them.
* * *
They hid their candy in Ranier Park, between two big rocks with another across the top that made a cave. Gil swore it would be safe there, and when Jim protested he said, “You’re new here. Trust me.”
Jim looked back longingly at the small dark cave mouth as they walked away, but once again Gil repeated, “Trust me.”
Ten minutes later found them in the empty pumpkin patches of Schwartz’s farm. The ground was rutted, filled with rows of twisting dead pumpkin vines, already waiting for the winter to freeze them stiff and turn the furrows to brown icy ditches.
But here at the end of October the ground was still soft, the vines in the moonlight looked like twisting fingers.
“This is creepy,” Carsey said.
“This is where they first saw the Pumpkin Boy,” Gil countered. “It’s supposed to be creepy.”
“We’re not looking for the Pumpkin Boy,” Marcey remarked.
“I don’t believe that one, either,” Jim said, his jaw hurting from bumping against the lower cardboard cutout
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