Read Online The Vanishings by Tim Lahaye, Jerry B. Jenkins - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Tim Lahaye, Jerry B. Jenkins
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too many beers. She wondered how soon her mother would come to get her up. Vicki had purposely not set her alarm. Her mother usually roused her just before she left for work and just in time for Vicki to dress, eat, and make the school bus.
That usually happened shortly after Vicki smelled breakfast, or at least coffee comingfrom the kitchen situated just this side of the living room. This morning she smelled something metallic, but not food. She heard nothing. Was it still too early? Usually after a night like sheâd had, her mother would have to shake her to wake her.
She felt as if she could sleep a few more hours. What time was it, anyway? Vicki lifted the covers and rolled to her back. Jeanni was already up. Why couldnât she hear her? Vicki sat up and stretched, rubbing her eyes. Strange. Jeanniâs school clothes were still set neatly on her chair. She must be in the bathroom, Vicki decided. She lay back down and waited for her mother.
Half an hour later, Vicki awoke quickly and looked at the clock for the first time. What was this? Had her parents given up on her altogether? They both had to be gone to work by now. Had Jeanni gone off to school in her play clothes?
Vicki dragged herself out of bed. She didnât know what it felt like to be an old woman, but it couldnât be much different from this. She was stiff, and her whole body ached. She padded down the hall to the bathroom, realizing she was the only one in the trailer. On her way back to the bedroom she suddenly stopped. Something was wrong. She backedup two steps and looked out the window to the asphalt apron.
Vicki squinted and shook her head. What in the world? Her dadâs pickup and her momâs little rattletrap of a car were still there! Occasionally one of them would drive the other to work if one of the vehicles wasnât running. And once in a while one of them might get a ride to work with someone else. But both of them? On the same day? Vicki stood staring out the window, trying to make it compute.
Finally, she was convinced, she had figured it out. She hadnât heard anything because she had slept too deeply. Her sister probably dressed for a field trip. And for some reason, something was wrong with both cars on the same day. No big deal. Her mother had not tried to awaken her because she was mad at her. Mom had probably fallen asleep in the living room waiting for her to get home, knew Vicki was late but somehow missed her sneaking in. Just for that, Mom wouldnât get her up in time for school.
So what? Vicki thought. I can blame it on Mom for not getting me up, and I can get more sleep.
Then she smelled it. Something acrid. Something burning. And it was in the trailer! She hurried into the kitchen, where the teapot was smoking on the stove. The ceramicpaint was black, the pot misshapen and clearly dry. Vickiâs mother often liked tea late at night, but it wasnât like her to leave the pot on the stove until the water had evaporated away.
Vicki grabbed a pot holder before reaching for the handle, which had nearly melted. Even through the thick cloth the pot was searing hot. She dropped it in the sink, where it hissed in the water. What was water doing in the sink? Her mother never let dishes soak. She drew water only when she was ready to do all the dishes, and she always did them all and emptied the sink.
Vicki turned off the burner and looked around. Her mother had not even gotten out her teacup yet. She had never known Mom to forget water she had put on to boil, and certainly not overnight. What was going on?
Something out the window caught Vickiâs eye. It was one of her friends, an older girl, wandering between trailers. Vicki swung open the door. âShelly! Shelly, whatâs up?â
But Shelly didnât even turn. She just kept walking, as if in a trance. Still in her pajamas, Vicki stepped outside and yelled at her friend. Still she didnât turn. Vicki darted back in and
That usually happened shortly after Vicki smelled breakfast, or at least coffee comingfrom the kitchen situated just this side of the living room. This morning she smelled something metallic, but not food. She heard nothing. Was it still too early? Usually after a night like sheâd had, her mother would have to shake her to wake her.
She felt as if she could sleep a few more hours. What time was it, anyway? Vicki lifted the covers and rolled to her back. Jeanni was already up. Why couldnât she hear her? Vicki sat up and stretched, rubbing her eyes. Strange. Jeanniâs school clothes were still set neatly on her chair. She must be in the bathroom, Vicki decided. She lay back down and waited for her mother.
Half an hour later, Vicki awoke quickly and looked at the clock for the first time. What was this? Had her parents given up on her altogether? They both had to be gone to work by now. Had Jeanni gone off to school in her play clothes?
Vicki dragged herself out of bed. She didnât know what it felt like to be an old woman, but it couldnât be much different from this. She was stiff, and her whole body ached. She padded down the hall to the bathroom, realizing she was the only one in the trailer. On her way back to the bedroom she suddenly stopped. Something was wrong. She backedup two steps and looked out the window to the asphalt apron.
Vicki squinted and shook her head. What in the world? Her dadâs pickup and her momâs little rattletrap of a car were still there! Occasionally one of them would drive the other to work if one of the vehicles wasnât running. And once in a while one of them might get a ride to work with someone else. But both of them? On the same day? Vicki stood staring out the window, trying to make it compute.
Finally, she was convinced, she had figured it out. She hadnât heard anything because she had slept too deeply. Her sister probably dressed for a field trip. And for some reason, something was wrong with both cars on the same day. No big deal. Her mother had not tried to awaken her because she was mad at her. Mom had probably fallen asleep in the living room waiting for her to get home, knew Vicki was late but somehow missed her sneaking in. Just for that, Mom wouldnât get her up in time for school.
So what? Vicki thought. I can blame it on Mom for not getting me up, and I can get more sleep.
Then she smelled it. Something acrid. Something burning. And it was in the trailer! She hurried into the kitchen, where the teapot was smoking on the stove. The ceramicpaint was black, the pot misshapen and clearly dry. Vickiâs mother often liked tea late at night, but it wasnât like her to leave the pot on the stove until the water had evaporated away.
Vicki grabbed a pot holder before reaching for the handle, which had nearly melted. Even through the thick cloth the pot was searing hot. She dropped it in the sink, where it hissed in the water. What was water doing in the sink? Her mother never let dishes soak. She drew water only when she was ready to do all the dishes, and she always did them all and emptied the sink.
Vicki turned off the burner and looked around. Her mother had not even gotten out her teacup yet. She had never known Mom to forget water she had put on to boil, and certainly not overnight. What was going on?
Something out the window caught Vickiâs eye. It was one of her friends, an older girl, wandering between trailers. Vicki swung open the door. âShelly! Shelly, whatâs up?â
But Shelly didnât even turn. She just kept walking, as if in a trance. Still in her pajamas, Vicki stepped outside and yelled at her friend. Still she didnât turn. Vicki darted back in and
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