Read Online The Girl in Acid Park by Lauren Harris - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Lauren Harris
Tags: Fantasy, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Teen & Young Adult, Paranormal & Urban, Mysteries & Thrillers, Fantasy & Supernatural
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stood before us, impaled by the headlights breaking through the underbrush. She was thin as a rail with long, limp hair that made a smeared nest in the crushed side of her forehead. I had a brief glimpse of the most hideous dress on the planet before she flickered away, appearing several feet down the drive.
One of the last remaining real whirligigs loomed behind us, reflecting a stripe of light across Jamie's truck. The girl flickered away again, then appeared, thin as a stain of light on my retinas, beside the VW van.
"Hide!" Her voice sounded next to my ear. ...But she was standing at the end of the road. How could she talk right in my ear? I grabbed Jamie's wrist and hauled him into a run. The ivy almost defeated us, snagging Jamie's shoe and sending him staggering. He caught himself on a pine, and when we scrambled behind a whirligig, I could smell the resiny tinge of sap over the lingering marijuana.
We dropped into the cold ivy at the base of a whirligig's legs. The metal shaft gave a hollow ring as I leaned against it, bumpy wrought iron jabbing my palms. I felt the peeling layers of paint; the oxidized metal beneath was crumbly-rough against my fingertips.
As the vehicle drew to a halt, we hunkered down behind the bushes. I had to lay on the ivy and peer beneath some hanging bunches of wisteria to get a decent view of the driveway. Jamie's breath echoed loud at my side.
The new vehicle had stopped near the turn off into the driveway, roughly parallel to the overgrown VW. Judging by the height and separation of the headlights, it was a big vehicle--maybe a van or another truck. Those high beams splintered through the trees and bushes, but didn't reach our hiding spot. Shadows passed across the headlights, then vanished toward the farmhouse.
"Do you see any-"
"Shh!" I hit his arm for silence, just as a pair of silhouettes came into focus on their way to Jamie's truck. They spoke too quietly to hear, but I could tell they were talking about the unexpected vehicle.
"Shit," Jamie whispered, and I didn't shush him because it needed to be said. A man called out in Spanish.
"What did he say?" I asked, hoping this was one of those random things that Jamie just sort of knew.
"Shh!" he said, and tapped my arm slightly lighter than I'd hit his. I leaned closer to him, trying to see from his better vantage.
A conversation was taking place behind Jamie's vehicle, a lot of gesturing toward the trees and miming of circles. I couldn't understand the words, but I had a terrible feeling I knew what they were about to do. We were screwed.
The three men broke off their conversation as another call rang out from the farmhouse. They split up--one man toward the group on the farmhouse porch, the other two splitting toward the trees along the drive. I had just made out what looked to be a rug rolled up over the farmhouse group's shoulders when Jamie sucked in a breath.
One of the others was headed right for us. He stepped onto the crackling carpet of needles, then dodged around a bushy sapling pine. My pulse pounded in my throat. Jamie shifted next to me, needles crinkling loud and clear to my ears. The silhouette stopped, his hand going to his jacket pocket.
Oh God. Had he heard us?
Jamie put a hand on my back and I realized I'd been trembling. The soft shiver and crackle of foliage beneath us was due in part to my own involuntary movement. I could smell Jamie's sweat.
The silhouette stepped closer, one arm bracing on a tree trunk as he went by. The same tree Jamie had fallen against. He stepped up onto the root, slowly drawing his hand from his jacket, but, backlit by the headlights as he was, I couldn't see what he had pulled out. Some cheap, powerful cologne coated my sinuses like oil.
The thing in the stalker's hand clicked. Jamie tensed. I felt him breathe faster, heard the slight crackle as his chest moved on the leaves. I risked a glance and caught the barest edge of a light moving in the branches next to his face. It
One of the last remaining real whirligigs loomed behind us, reflecting a stripe of light across Jamie's truck. The girl flickered away again, then appeared, thin as a stain of light on my retinas, beside the VW van.
"Hide!" Her voice sounded next to my ear. ...But she was standing at the end of the road. How could she talk right in my ear? I grabbed Jamie's wrist and hauled him into a run. The ivy almost defeated us, snagging Jamie's shoe and sending him staggering. He caught himself on a pine, and when we scrambled behind a whirligig, I could smell the resiny tinge of sap over the lingering marijuana.
We dropped into the cold ivy at the base of a whirligig's legs. The metal shaft gave a hollow ring as I leaned against it, bumpy wrought iron jabbing my palms. I felt the peeling layers of paint; the oxidized metal beneath was crumbly-rough against my fingertips.
As the vehicle drew to a halt, we hunkered down behind the bushes. I had to lay on the ivy and peer beneath some hanging bunches of wisteria to get a decent view of the driveway. Jamie's breath echoed loud at my side.
The new vehicle had stopped near the turn off into the driveway, roughly parallel to the overgrown VW. Judging by the height and separation of the headlights, it was a big vehicle--maybe a van or another truck. Those high beams splintered through the trees and bushes, but didn't reach our hiding spot. Shadows passed across the headlights, then vanished toward the farmhouse.
"Do you see any-"
"Shh!" I hit his arm for silence, just as a pair of silhouettes came into focus on their way to Jamie's truck. They spoke too quietly to hear, but I could tell they were talking about the unexpected vehicle.
"Shit," Jamie whispered, and I didn't shush him because it needed to be said. A man called out in Spanish.
"What did he say?" I asked, hoping this was one of those random things that Jamie just sort of knew.
"Shh!" he said, and tapped my arm slightly lighter than I'd hit his. I leaned closer to him, trying to see from his better vantage.
A conversation was taking place behind Jamie's vehicle, a lot of gesturing toward the trees and miming of circles. I couldn't understand the words, but I had a terrible feeling I knew what they were about to do. We were screwed.
The three men broke off their conversation as another call rang out from the farmhouse. They split up--one man toward the group on the farmhouse porch, the other two splitting toward the trees along the drive. I had just made out what looked to be a rug rolled up over the farmhouse group's shoulders when Jamie sucked in a breath.
One of the others was headed right for us. He stepped onto the crackling carpet of needles, then dodged around a bushy sapling pine. My pulse pounded in my throat. Jamie shifted next to me, needles crinkling loud and clear to my ears. The silhouette stopped, his hand going to his jacket pocket.
Oh God. Had he heard us?
Jamie put a hand on my back and I realized I'd been trembling. The soft shiver and crackle of foliage beneath us was due in part to my own involuntary movement. I could smell Jamie's sweat.
The silhouette stepped closer, one arm bracing on a tree trunk as he went by. The same tree Jamie had fallen against. He stepped up onto the root, slowly drawing his hand from his jacket, but, backlit by the headlights as he was, I couldn't see what he had pulled out. Some cheap, powerful cologne coated my sinuses like oil.
The thing in the stalker's hand clicked. Jamie tensed. I felt him breathe faster, heard the slight crackle as his chest moved on the leaves. I risked a glance and caught the barest edge of a light moving in the branches next to his face. It
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