Read Online The Orphan of Awkward Falls by Keith Graves - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Keith Graves
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more surgeons. No more Treatments. No more walls. Even a cold, damp hole under a tree and bugs for dinner were vastly preferable to life in the asylum.
But just as he had begun to relax, his hammering heart finally slowing down to something like normal, Stenchley heard the sound that all creatures on the run dread more than any other. Echoing through the woods somewhere in the distance came the yelps and whoops of bloodhounds. Though he enjoyed the mild flavor of the smaller canine breeds, Stenchley had a deep-seated fear of anything larger than a dachshund. The thought of the fanged, slobbering jaws of a pack of hounds snapping at him sent a jolt of terror through his brain. So he set off again, fear driving him faster than before. He leapt and dodged through the dense bramble of the woods, circlingback many times to cover his trail, splashing through streams for long stretches, making it hard for the hounds to follow his scent.
In the wee hours of the morning, he found a tall tree and clawed his way to its highest branch. He took the opportunity to feed again when a squirrel, no doubt surprised to find a drooling killer squatting just outside its nest, scurried out onto the branch at his feet. The hunchback chewed swatches of the squirrel and listened for the hounds. Their baying was farther away now and heading in the opposite direction.
He slid down the tree to the forest floor and ran on at an easier pace. An occasional police helicopter passed overhead, invisible in the soupy fog, but the noise of their engines gave him plenty of time to hide. Stenchley could easily have spent the rest of his life like this, prowling the woods by night, hunting and scavenging for food, then disappearing into holes or trees by day. In the vast wilderness, which stretched northward for thousands of miles, all the way to the edge of the Arctic, he would have been impossible to find. In time he might simply have become another legend of the great northern woods, like Sasquatch, never to be seen again, except by unfortunate hikers who would not live to tell the tale.
But Cynthia had other plans for Stenchley. There was a score to settle, now that he was free. The vile, white-haired child who had come between Stenchley and his beloved master, who was the cause of all Stenchley’s suffering in the horrible asylum, had to die. No more than a useless, babbling toddler at the time, the pathetic thinghad escaped the python’s coils ten years ago. The robot had intervened and hidden the child away before Stenchley could get at it. Cynthia vowed the child would not be so lucky this time. This would be a meal she would truly savor.
Though Stenchley had no conscious idea of where he was going, his filthy bare feet ran steadily on, guided by the whispering python inside his hump. If one were to look at a map of Awkward Falls and draw a line following Stenchley’s path, it would begin at the Asylum for the Dangerously Insane, travel out into the forest where it would scribble around crazily, then turn back toward town again, heading straight for Oleander Alley.
Josephine followed Thaddeus and the robot down the long flight of narrow stone steps into chilly darkness. At the bottom they entered the lab through the kind of heavy steel door one normally saw on a meat locker or possibly a nuclear waste facility. When Norman closed the door behind them, it became a virtually seamless part of the wall. Thaddeus flicked a switch, and the room’s lone light source, a bulb dangling at the end of a wire, flickered and came on. The room looked nothing like the immaculate modern labs where Josephine’s father worked. This place was filthy. Dust and grime coated everything in sight.
All around the room stood a collection of odd machines, some refrigerator-sized, some smaller than a toaster oven, most somewhere in between. All were very old and heavy looking, made of thick steel held together with bolts and rivets. Crisscrossing the walls and ceiling was a
But just as he had begun to relax, his hammering heart finally slowing down to something like normal, Stenchley heard the sound that all creatures on the run dread more than any other. Echoing through the woods somewhere in the distance came the yelps and whoops of bloodhounds. Though he enjoyed the mild flavor of the smaller canine breeds, Stenchley had a deep-seated fear of anything larger than a dachshund. The thought of the fanged, slobbering jaws of a pack of hounds snapping at him sent a jolt of terror through his brain. So he set off again, fear driving him faster than before. He leapt and dodged through the dense bramble of the woods, circlingback many times to cover his trail, splashing through streams for long stretches, making it hard for the hounds to follow his scent.
In the wee hours of the morning, he found a tall tree and clawed his way to its highest branch. He took the opportunity to feed again when a squirrel, no doubt surprised to find a drooling killer squatting just outside its nest, scurried out onto the branch at his feet. The hunchback chewed swatches of the squirrel and listened for the hounds. Their baying was farther away now and heading in the opposite direction.
He slid down the tree to the forest floor and ran on at an easier pace. An occasional police helicopter passed overhead, invisible in the soupy fog, but the noise of their engines gave him plenty of time to hide. Stenchley could easily have spent the rest of his life like this, prowling the woods by night, hunting and scavenging for food, then disappearing into holes or trees by day. In the vast wilderness, which stretched northward for thousands of miles, all the way to the edge of the Arctic, he would have been impossible to find. In time he might simply have become another legend of the great northern woods, like Sasquatch, never to be seen again, except by unfortunate hikers who would not live to tell the tale.
But Cynthia had other plans for Stenchley. There was a score to settle, now that he was free. The vile, white-haired child who had come between Stenchley and his beloved master, who was the cause of all Stenchley’s suffering in the horrible asylum, had to die. No more than a useless, babbling toddler at the time, the pathetic thinghad escaped the python’s coils ten years ago. The robot had intervened and hidden the child away before Stenchley could get at it. Cynthia vowed the child would not be so lucky this time. This would be a meal she would truly savor.
Though Stenchley had no conscious idea of where he was going, his filthy bare feet ran steadily on, guided by the whispering python inside his hump. If one were to look at a map of Awkward Falls and draw a line following Stenchley’s path, it would begin at the Asylum for the Dangerously Insane, travel out into the forest where it would scribble around crazily, then turn back toward town again, heading straight for Oleander Alley.
Josephine followed Thaddeus and the robot down the long flight of narrow stone steps into chilly darkness. At the bottom they entered the lab through the kind of heavy steel door one normally saw on a meat locker or possibly a nuclear waste facility. When Norman closed the door behind them, it became a virtually seamless part of the wall. Thaddeus flicked a switch, and the room’s lone light source, a bulb dangling at the end of a wire, flickered and came on. The room looked nothing like the immaculate modern labs where Josephine’s father worked. This place was filthy. Dust and grime coated everything in sight.
All around the room stood a collection of odd machines, some refrigerator-sized, some smaller than a toaster oven, most somewhere in between. All were very old and heavy looking, made of thick steel held together with bolts and rivets. Crisscrossing the walls and ceiling was a
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