Cold City by F. Paul Wilson

Author:F. Paul Wilson [Wilson, F. Paul]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Horror
ISBN: 9780765330147
Publisher: Tor Books
Published: 2012-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

8

“Let’s hope you don’t regret this,” the second brother said as he and Jack carried Reggie’s dead weight into the reeds.

It turned out the brothers – he assumed they were using the term literally instead of figuratively – had followed Jack and Reggie out here in Reggie’s truck. After letting Jack talk them out of drowning Reggie, the second brother shoved the unconscious Reggie to the floor of Jack’s cab and put Jack in the passenger seat while he drove. The first took Reggie’s truck and promised to use Reggie’s phone to call in a raid on the Duck house. Jack didn’t think it would accomplish much, but he had to try.

He’d slipped back into his sweater; that, along with the heat blowing from the dashboard, had eased the chill in his bones.

The second brother seemed to know where he was going. After about a mile they’d arrived at a swampy area, then turned onto a dirt road. When they’d stopped, the first brother had stayed in Reggie’s truck while Jack and the second hauled Reggie out and lugged him away. For a skinny guy, Reggie was heavy as hell.

“What do you mean?” Jack said as they dropped him in a stand of cattails.

Cattails…he remembered picking them as a kid and drying the corn-doglike tops, then lighting them. They’d smolder and the smoke was supposed to keep mosquitoes away. Never did, though.

“These subhumans are like boomerangs. They somehow find their way back to you.”

Jack didn’t like the sound of that. He’d stuck the truck’s tire iron into his belt before hauling Reggie, and he pulled it out now. He was getting a lot of use out of this thing.

The brother added, “You’d be better off using that on his head.”

“Then I might as well have helped you dump him in the water. Same thing.”

He shrugged. “I’m not saying this for my benefit. He doesn’t know me. He’s seen a ski mask from fifty yards. But you… he knows stuff about you. Save your goody-goody worries for all the kids this guy has hurt.”

Maybe he was right. Jack looked at Reggie. A couple of good swings to the head…

He sighed. “Nope. Can’t do it.” He glanced at the brother. “Is that how you handle everybody who gets in your way? Take them out?”

“Just the subhumans. Once they’re gone, you don’t have to give them another thought. And believe me, they’re not worth a thought after they’re gone.”

“And you decide who’s ‘subhuman’?”

The brother looked him in the eye. “Don’t have to. They tell you straight out. Actions speak louder than words. And I’m telling you: He’s one of them.”

“I think I’ll settle for keeping him in a wheelchair for a while.”

He stared at Reggie’s knees. In theory it had sounded, easy, almost humane, considering the alternative offered. But the actual doing was something altogether different.

Without giving himself a chance to reconsider, Jack raised the tire iron and smashed it down on Reggie’s right kneecap. He felt it give under the iron. Reggie might have been edging back toward consciousness, but this yanked him the rest of the way.

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