Hungry Gods (A Finn McCoy Paranormal Thriller Book 7) by Scott Langrel

Author:Scott Langrel [Langrel, Scott]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-05-12T07:00:00+00:00

***

John watched as Jack looked behind the trash bin. He saw the man’s tense posture relax somewhat, indicating that nothing had been hiding in the darkness. The sheriff looked down at his watch. It was getting late; McCoy would be expecting the whole crew back soon, and they hadn’t even picked Frank and Deidre up yet. Though John didn’t doubt that Jack’s intentions were sincere, there was no more time to be chasing after shadows.

A sharp cry caused John to look back up. At first, he didn’t fully understand what he was seeing. Jack was running breakneck back toward the cruiser, followed by several fast-moving tendrils of dark smoke. Had something caught fire? There hadn’t been any sign of anything out of the ordinary when he’d looked away only seconds earlier.

Then he took a good look at the “smoke” and his eyes grew wide with alarm. The beam from the spotlight should have been reflected back, but the creeping tentacles—for that’s what they now looked like—seemed to absorb the light. Also, the writhing, black feelers weren’t moving as columns of smoke normally would; the tentacles seemed as if they were being controlled by something intelligent as they chased after the fleeing Jack, who had now made it halfway back to John and the waiting vehicle.

Furiously, John considered his options. Instinct told him that he wanted nothing to do with whatever it was that was chasing Jack, but he couldn’t very well abandon the man. Nor could he turn his back on the citizens of the town, whose safety it was his sworn duty to protect.

Well, he wouldn’t be protecting anybody if the thing chasing Jack got ahold of him. Leaning across the passenger’s seat, John opened the door and pushed it ajar. Jack, only a few strides from the cruiser, dove the remaining distance, landing heavily against John’s side as he fell inside the cruiser.

“Drive!” the Cajun yelled, not bothering to pull the door shut behind him.

John needed no additional persuasion as he threw the shifter into drive and stomped the accelerator. The cruiser’s rear tires spun momentarily on the pavement, seeking traction, and then the vehicle lurched forward just as the black tentacles emerged from the alley and curled around the walls of the brick buildings on either side of the passageway. John sped the vehicle halfway down the next block, then hit the brakes hard, nearly sending Jack tumbling into the floorboard. Frantic, John turned to face the hapless Cajun.

“What the hell was that?” the sheriff demanded, looking back and forth between Jack and the rearview mirror.

“One of the Old Ones, I’m thinking,” Jack replied shakily. He forced himself upright in the seat and turned to look out the rear window of the vehicle. “I’ve never seen one up close, and I wouldn’t want to. Be careful with your gaze. Just a glimpse of one of them can drive a person mad.”

“I don’t see anything coming out of the alley,” John said, allowing himself a small glimmer of hope.

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