Read Online The Body Thief by Stephen M. Giles - Free Book Online

condition have been known to live far longer than it was ever thought possible.”
    “Tell me, Doctor—do you believe in life after death?”
    “Oh, well…yes, I suppose I do,” answered the doctor, shifting in his chair rather awkwardly. “Not that one can ever know for sure, of course. It’s all a matter of faith, as they say.” He looked at Silas curiously. “Do you, Silas?”
    For a moment he did not answer, and the doctor thought that perhaps his patient had not heard him. Then Silas’s pallid lips parted and a small laugh escaped.
    “I’m counting on it, Doctor,” he said faintly. “I’m counting on it.”
    “Yes, well, let’s not dwell on all that,” said the doctor, hastily getting to his feet. “I shall come and see you tomorrow, and I will expect to hear that you have been getting plenty of rest. Is that understood?”
    “There is no time to rest,” Silas told him, lifting his head from the pillow and reaching for the telephone. “I have a great deal to do and precious little time in which to do it. Your services will no longer be required. Good day, Doctor.”

9
    The Uninvited Guest
    In the cool shade of an elm tree Silas’s face began to glow a golden red as the damp rag scrubbed vigorously across his forehead. Jeremiah Knox, a tall pimply boy with short brown hair, dipped the rag into the polish and continued to buff his master’s head.
    “You’ve missed my nose, Knox,” said Silas with considerable irritation. “It’s right there in the middle of my face, and you missed it.”
    “Sorry, sir,” said Knox anxiously. “I’ll do it now, sir.”
    “Good,” snapped Silas, moving his chair toward the large bronze statue that towered over rows of vibrant yellow roses. Following closely, Thorn crawled slowly along the stone path. He growled softly as Bingle raced past wearing an anxious frown.
    “Sir, I’m sorry to bother you,” said Bingle, bobbing up and down beside the master. “But there’s a lady, sir. She’s just come across the bridge—she says she knows you.”
    Silas stared at Bingle, his left eyebrow arching high above a piercing dark eye. The butler took a step back and tried not to look terrified. He gulped. The master did not like unexpected guests. Ever.
    “It seems, sir,” said Bingle softly, his throat suddenly very dry, “that the lady managed to talk her way onto the island. I have called the guardhouse and demanded an explanation and now I shall call security—”
    Bingle was unable to finish his sentence because a hot, crushing pain was racking through his body. Silas had moved his chair forward, rolling the front wheel directly over Bingle’s right foot. He stopped, the wheel sinking farther into the butler’s polished black shoe. The bones in his foot made tight crunching sounds under the intense weight, sending horrific currents of pain shooting up Bingle’s legs.
    “Sir…my foot ,” he spat through clenched teeth.
    “Whoever is on duty at the guardhouse is fired,” said Silas calmly. “Immediately.”
    Just when Bingle thought he could bear the pain no longer, Silas pushed the crocodile-head joystick forward and the chair began to move. Bingle fell to the ground groping at his damaged foot as Silas rolled out of the garden room, followed closely by Thorn.
    Emerging from the eastern gate, Silas maneuvered his chair quickly along a path, weaving between Japanese red maple trees and thick clusters of blooming tiger lilies.
    Stopping at the edge of the path he looked down the long expanse of drive leading up from the bridge. His eyesight, like his body, was weak, and he squinted, just making out an indistinguishable blob crisscrossing wildly about the road.
    With a single tap of Silas’s ring, Thorn hunched up on all fours, growling deeply. “Get ready, old friend,” said Silas softly. “It seems we have an intruder.”
    Thorn’s large claws scraped over the black tar as he moved carefully onto the sealed road. His nostrils flared as a rush