Heather Graham by Down in New Orleans

Author:Down in New Orleans
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

twelve

“CINDY!”

Gregory heard the scream, but the rain had begun. It was an instant and complete deluge, battering down upon him in giant, stinging droplets. The sound of it against the earth and foliage was deafening.

It brought the darkness.

Complete darkness.

“Cindy!” he cried out. “Cindy, damn you, where the hell are you, Cindy, answer me!”

His voice became blended with the violence of the storm. He cursed himself; he should have seen the rain.

“Cindy!”

He tried to shout. Already he had become hoarse.

“Cindy!”

His voice was fading.

So were his hopes.

He shouted once again.

Then he started trudging through the mud, cursing himself.

He stopped. Was it Cindy who had screamed? He knew the bayou; he thought he knew the bayou. Yet he didn’t know where he was, and he didn’t know now from which direction the scream had come.

“Cindy? Ann?”

He tried to rub the rain from his eyes, tried to see through the darkness.

There was someone...something...ahead of him. No, the figure was gone.

He had the uneasy feeling of a man being stalked. He turned in the rain. Turned again. “Cindy? Ann? Where the hell are you two girls? Sweet Jesus, ladies, answer me!”

The rain was his answer. And the wind, rising now, whipping around in the foliage.

No one was answering him, yet he knew...

Someone had heard him. Someone was...

Behind him.

He knew it for certain in the few seconds before the searing pain from the crack upon his head sent him sinking down into a pit of blackness...

And oblivion.

Mark cursed and swore. The scream had come long moments ago now, and he was nowhere near the house; he was, in fact, being pressed farther away by the rising winds and the flooding. He was beginning to feel as if he were out in the middle of the water itself for all the progress he was suddenly making.

The rain caused the lowland areas of the bayou to flood almost instantly. The cottages, like Mama Lili Mae’s, survived because they were built up on stilts. But the trail was now washed away, and the scope of the storm had settled over them like a giant black miasma.

He heard a sucking sound. Someone else moving through the mud, someone who had just all but passed him in the rain and mire. Someone he might have reached out and touched.

Instinctively, he changed direction, making his way to where the boats had been.

The rain was bad. The flooding was wiping away paths and trails and landmarks.

But he knew, staring at what had been the water’s edge, that he was in the right place.

And the boats were gone.

Moret...

Ugh! Ann shivered, running over the bridge and down the trail. He made her skin crawl. She had been certain that he’d been about to reach out for her. That he would stop her from leaving.

But he hadn’t touched her. She’d managed to walk past him in a fairly sedate and dignified manner—one with applaudable bravado. But at Mama Lili Mae’s door, she had begun to run. And she was certain that she heard his laughter following her.

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