Read Online Wake for Me (Life or Death Series) by Isobel Irons - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Isobel Irons
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pursed his lips like a duck. “You know I’ll be the belle of the cell block with my creamy smooth skin and my tight little ass.”
In spite of himself, Sam laughed. “Jesus, Brady. Is there anything you’re above bragging about?”
“Only the size of my Johnson,” he said, standing up. “But that’s only ‘cause I don’t have to. Come on.”
“How do you get so many girls to go home with you?” Sam asked, genuinely mystified. “You’re basically a primate.”
“Uh, huh-yeah. In the sack.” He punched Sam in the shoulder. “Let’s go get you showered up and set you loose on the town. It’s time for you to rejoin the world of the living, my friend. The healthy, nubile, female…scantily clad living. First round’s on me!”
Letting himself feel bolstered—at least temporarily—by the idea that he might simply be overreacting and over thinking things, yet again, Sam stood and followed his friend out into the world of the living. Into reality.
CHAPTER NINE
“Dreams are often most profound when they seem the most crazy.” –Sigmund Freud
He’s right behind me.
I can hear his breathing, heavy and guttural as he leaps over obstacles like they’re nothing. He gains. No matter how hard I run, always he gains. Taunting me with his proximity. I can’t see his face, but I know what he wants.
He wants me.
Dead, or alive. Both. It doesn’t matter. Because sooner or later, he’s going to catch me, and I’ll be helpless, powerless against him.
My legs are badly oiled pistons, pumping underneath me far too slowly for the momentum I need to outdistance my pursuer. It feels like he’s been after me forever, only I didn’t see him, didn’t start running from him until it was too late. Until he already had me in his sights.
The things he has planned for me are unthinkable. Despicable.
I want to give up, so badly. I want to cry and scream and beg for mercy, but that would mean I would have to stop. I would have to turn, and face him. The thought of doing that is unimaginable.
In this endless moment of panic, there’s no time for foresight, or planning. There’s no time to analyze my instincts. There’s only the motion of my legs, and the next stretch of ground that lies directly ahead.
The ground ends. A precipice. I can’t slow down. I’d rather fall than stop.
I leap into the air, flailing with my arms. I pretend they’re wings. I can fly, I think. If only I try hard enough, believe hard enough. I flap my wings so hard, every muscle in my body starts to burn.
I begin to rise. Slowly, agonizingly slowly. My momentum stops a few meters from the ground. But I’m not going anywhere, just floating, hovering in the air. I glance behind me, and he’s still coming. I work harder, fly faster. But I can’t rise any higher than the treetops. My toes skim them as I pass overhead. Slowly, with great difficulty, I move forward. Away from him.
It’s come back to a race, but now I’m at a slightly higher level. If I stop to rest, bobbing up and down in the air, he’ll grab hold of my ankles and pull me down to him. So I continue to flap, wanting to scream from the force of my exertion.
“Help me,” I sob, looking at the dark red horizon, as black thunder clouds roll into view. “Someone, please help me.”
Thunder. It’s faint, like a door slamming in another room of the house. But the shockwave hits me like the backlash of an explosion. My body is tossed from the sky like a rag doll from the fist of a petulant child.
I land in the meadow. The one with the purple flowers.
There’s a heavy rolling sound, and I lie on my back, staring up at the sky, waiting for the bird corpses to start hitting the ground around me. But the sky is wrong. The color is wrong. There are no weeping willows off in the distance.
Something has changed, and not for the better.
A bright bolt of yellow lightening hits the ground, inches from me. I sit up with a start, gasping for breath, and the
In spite of himself, Sam laughed. “Jesus, Brady. Is there anything you’re above bragging about?”
“Only the size of my Johnson,” he said, standing up. “But that’s only ‘cause I don’t have to. Come on.”
“How do you get so many girls to go home with you?” Sam asked, genuinely mystified. “You’re basically a primate.”
“Uh, huh-yeah. In the sack.” He punched Sam in the shoulder. “Let’s go get you showered up and set you loose on the town. It’s time for you to rejoin the world of the living, my friend. The healthy, nubile, female…scantily clad living. First round’s on me!”
Letting himself feel bolstered—at least temporarily—by the idea that he might simply be overreacting and over thinking things, yet again, Sam stood and followed his friend out into the world of the living. Into reality.
CHAPTER NINE
“Dreams are often most profound when they seem the most crazy.” –Sigmund Freud
He’s right behind me.
I can hear his breathing, heavy and guttural as he leaps over obstacles like they’re nothing. He gains. No matter how hard I run, always he gains. Taunting me with his proximity. I can’t see his face, but I know what he wants.
He wants me.
Dead, or alive. Both. It doesn’t matter. Because sooner or later, he’s going to catch me, and I’ll be helpless, powerless against him.
My legs are badly oiled pistons, pumping underneath me far too slowly for the momentum I need to outdistance my pursuer. It feels like he’s been after me forever, only I didn’t see him, didn’t start running from him until it was too late. Until he already had me in his sights.
The things he has planned for me are unthinkable. Despicable.
I want to give up, so badly. I want to cry and scream and beg for mercy, but that would mean I would have to stop. I would have to turn, and face him. The thought of doing that is unimaginable.
In this endless moment of panic, there’s no time for foresight, or planning. There’s no time to analyze my instincts. There’s only the motion of my legs, and the next stretch of ground that lies directly ahead.
The ground ends. A precipice. I can’t slow down. I’d rather fall than stop.
I leap into the air, flailing with my arms. I pretend they’re wings. I can fly, I think. If only I try hard enough, believe hard enough. I flap my wings so hard, every muscle in my body starts to burn.
I begin to rise. Slowly, agonizingly slowly. My momentum stops a few meters from the ground. But I’m not going anywhere, just floating, hovering in the air. I glance behind me, and he’s still coming. I work harder, fly faster. But I can’t rise any higher than the treetops. My toes skim them as I pass overhead. Slowly, with great difficulty, I move forward. Away from him.
It’s come back to a race, but now I’m at a slightly higher level. If I stop to rest, bobbing up and down in the air, he’ll grab hold of my ankles and pull me down to him. So I continue to flap, wanting to scream from the force of my exertion.
“Help me,” I sob, looking at the dark red horizon, as black thunder clouds roll into view. “Someone, please help me.”
Thunder. It’s faint, like a door slamming in another room of the house. But the shockwave hits me like the backlash of an explosion. My body is tossed from the sky like a rag doll from the fist of a petulant child.
I land in the meadow. The one with the purple flowers.
There’s a heavy rolling sound, and I lie on my back, staring up at the sky, waiting for the bird corpses to start hitting the ground around me. But the sky is wrong. The color is wrong. There are no weeping willows off in the distance.
Something has changed, and not for the better.
A bright bolt of yellow lightening hits the ground, inches from me. I sit up with a start, gasping for breath, and the
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