Darkness on the Edge of Town by Brian Keene

Author:Brian Keene
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Occult, American Horror Fiction, Horror, Fiction - Horror, Fiction, Horror & Ghost Stories, Horror - General, Thrillers, Horror Fiction, Occult & Supernatural
ISBN: 9780843960914
Publisher: Leisure Books
Published: 2010-01-26T08:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

After a quick breakfast of granola bars and dry cereal washed down with cold instant coffee, I decided it was time to try my plan. The first thing I needed to do was round up some more recruits. I’d forgotten all about mentioning it to Tony the night before and was disappointed in myself. He would have been a good person to have come along. He’d seemed levelheaded and interested in getting to the bottom of our situation. Instead of him, I now had to settle for whoever I could find out in the street.

Christy stayed inside the apartment. She was cordial to Russ and kissed me good-bye, but I could tell that she was still pissed off. She didn’t try to stop me, but she didn’t wish me luck either.

Russ and I went downstairs, woke up Cranston, and convinced him to come with us, assuring him that he’d be safe. He agreed. Apparently, after being cooped up inside his apartment, the old stoner was starting to get cabin fever.

The three of us walked outside. I had a weird moment where I held my hand over my brow, anticipating that I’d have to shield my eyes from the glare of the morning sun. It was always bright around that time of morning, glinting off rooftops and cars. But after a second, I realized what I was doing and lowered my hand. Cranston and Russ stared at me quizzically but didn’t say anything. I grinned, embarrassed. Then we stepped onto the sidewalk. Across from us, a trash can had fallen over, spilling its rancid contents onto the pavement. A dog was rooting through the debris. It had a collar and tags around its neck, and looked well-groomed and well-fed. Probably someone’s pet. But when we approached it, the dog growled like a feral coyote, baring its teeth and lowering its ears and tail. We stopped in our tracks. With one last snarl, the dog turned and ran away.

“You think it’s impacting the animals, too?” I asked Russ. “You know, like it did us the other day?”

He shrugged. “Could be. Or maybe they’re just reverting to their normal uncivilized state, too.”

We started down the street. I noticed that a few of the buildings had broken windows or doors hanging open—their hinges and locks popped. They hadn’t been like that the day before. I was sure of it.

There were five teenage boys hanging around the burn barrel on our street corner. Even though it was daytime, smoke and shadows obscured their faces until I got closer. One of them was occupied with a handheld video game system that still had power, and his attention was totally focused on that. But the rest of them looked up as Russ, Cranston, and I approached. One of them, a white kid whose baggy jeans hung low enough to expose three-quarters of his boxer shorts, stepped forward.

“’Sup, dog? What you need?”

I tried to hide my smirk. I had nothing against the dude’s fashion sense or slang or intentional grammar-mangling.

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