Feral by Brian Knight Read Free Book Online Page B

  He was alert enough to notice the tiny scratches around the lock of his doorknob.   Someone had been there.
    â€œStop,” he said, the command in his voice reminding him of a time not so long ago when he had been worthy of the respect that tone commanded.   These days life seemed like a dirty joke, and he the punch line.
    Charity stopped instantly, looking around nervously as if reading his thoughts.   She had to yank on Shannon’s arm to get her to mind.
    â€œWhat?” Shannon said, looking up from her feet.   She seemed half asleep already.
    â€œSomeone’s been here,” Jared said.   Charity squeezed Shannon’s hand, worked to keep her brave face.
    Good girl , Jared thought.   Tough girl too .
    He tried the door.   It was locked.   He fished the keys from his pocket and unlocked it.
    â€œStay out here,” he said, handing the car keys over to Shannon.   “Be ready to run if there’s trouble.”   He mentally calculated the distance from the door to the mantle above the television, where he kept a gun hidden behind an old family picture.   He could reach it in two or three seconds, and God help whoever might still be inside.
    He leaned close to Shannon and said, “We’re not letting this motherfucker take her again.”
    Then he slipped through the cracked door and raced across the room, agile as a cat despite his old wounds, leaping over the low back of the sofa and grabbing the gun from its hiding place on the mantle.
    The next few minutes were tense for Shannon and Charity, but the stress relented when he returned and opened the door for them, the gun hanging ready from his right hand.
    â€œIt’s clear.   If there was someone here they’re gone now.”
    â€œCan I take a shower?” Charity asked, hugging the bag with her new clothes to her chest.
    â€œYeah, I checked the bathroom.   It’s clear.”
    She startled him with a quick hug and disappeared down the hallway.
    â€œShe’s turning you into a softy,” Shannon commented.   Her eyes were weary, her skin ashen, but she managed a smile.
    â€œShut up,” Jared said, but he was smiling too
    Â 
    J ust down the block, hidden behind the tinted windows of his Caddy, Charles watched Charity disappear into the house.   When the door shut he put the Caddy into gear and drove away.

Chapter 11
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    I t started the same way as the dream he had often, the one that had convinced him from the start that Charity was still alive.   He saw Charity standing in the dark, an almost perfect dark.   She held her arms out, shouting “daddy . . . daddy” as he ran to her, and he seemed to run forever.   This time, though, she was not the toddler he’d last seen six years ago.   She was growing up so fast, he might not have known her out of this context, and that scared him more than the dream itself.   She was nine now, not his baby girl anymore.
    Would she recognize him if he ever found her?
    In the distance between them he could see the pendant that hung around her neck; it flashed at him like a tiny star.
    It was like running through water; the air seemed to clutch at him, hold him in place; moving one foot before the other became an act of frustration.   It felt like the waking world was holding onto his shirtsleeve and he was dragging it through the dark behind him.
    Usually the dream went on like this for hours, until the light of dawn or his own frustration woke him, but not this time.
    All around, like a part of the night itself, a familiar voice taunted.
    â€œAh, the little bed-wetter is all grown up now.   I remember you, Gordon, the spoiled only child hiding under satin sheets.   How you used to shake when I came to visit.   It was only my echo, I think you knew it even then, but it was enough to make you piss your bed every time.”   A chuckle rippled the darkness, vibrated painfully in his