Raven by Charles L. Grant

Author:Charles L. Grant [Grant, Charles L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: suspense, thriller
Publisher: Crossroad Press
Published: 2019-12-26T00:00:00+00:00

Raven’s wings.

“Jesus,” he whispered, and flexed his right leg, flexed his left, and leapt from a standing position, landing on the other side as if he’d merely taken a long stride. He didn’t slip, didn’t slide, didn’t lose a second’s worth of balance. There was a brief sense of amazement before the irritation returned, and he stalked through a sparse covering of underbrush, found himself ten yards later facing the last of his seven cabins. He could barely see it in outline in the snow, but he knew it was there because, when he turned right on the faint depression that signaled the flagstone path, he could see the other ones growing by stages out of the dark the closer they came to the bulb burning harshly over the kitchen door.

He didn’t run.

He didn’t bother to check the cabin doors because he knew they were all locked.

It wasn’t until he was only ten feet from the fence that he realized how he’d been behaving since his last shot. Not calmly, by any means, but somehow accepting.

That did make him stop.

It made him stare at his restaurant, so picturesque in the falling snow. Serene. Postcard photograph. Welcome to Maclaren’s; wish you were here and the food’s not bad either.

Distant; it seemed so distant.

A glance over his shoulder; nothing there.

A glance to the creek; nothing but the haze of light and snow.

A muffled rustling.

He turned again, hand reaching for the gun before remembering it was empty.

Nothing then but voice, loud and shrill.

He hurried through the gap in the fence and realized the kitchen door was wide open, the single light over the island block counter flickering off and on.

In there? he thought, alarmed; my god, is he in there?

Cautiously he moved onto the stoop, had a foot up on the threshold when something out of place distracted him. Checking to his right he saw a body on the ground, flecked with white. Mouth partly open, he stepped through the steam of his breath and hunkered down beside Julia Sanders.

A shuddering sound, not quite a moan, as his hand passed over his lips.

The voices.

He backed off as he rose, and thumped a heel against the stoop. He didn’t think about bringing her inside, and didn’t speculate on the cause, or the reason for, her death. He just looked toward the cabins and asked the man in black why?, before stepping into the kitchen and closing the door behind him.

The warmth hurt.

It stung, then burned in pulsing waves. Across his face, the feeling that stitches were being pulled out of fresh wounds. He pressed a snow-crusted glove to a cheek and sighed at the cold, soothing this time, numbing. Listening to an argument storming through the lounge. None of it made sense; the words were unintelligible. But the tone gave him certain knowledge that the man in black wasn’t here.

Nevertheless he enlisted discretion as he pushed through the EMPLOYEES ONLY door and stood at the end of the bar. The trapdoor had been closed; the interior lights were still out.

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