Nigh - Book 1 by Marie Bilodeau Read Free Book Online Page B

that even
happen?”
    “It’s the veil between the worlds,” Hector said, so
softly they strained to hear. “The veil between our world and the
Old World. It’s collapsing. And while we’ve mostly forgotten about
the old folk, they’ve been studying us and biding their time.”
    No one spoke. Al had a thousand questions pop into
her mind to vanish at once, seeing the grief and fear on Hector’s
face. Only one question mattered, lit in her mind with the fury of
a thousand suns.
    She just wanted to know how to be safe. How to keep
her own safe.
    If even half the fear on Hector’s face was
justified, she wasn’t sure safe was even possible.

Chapter 5
     
    The street was lined with small, similar post-war
houses, one-level, slanted roof, vinyl siding. They looked
deceptively small. Gruff and Gretchen had managed to raise three
children here, and it now seemed too big for just the elderly
couple. Or too small.
    The mists danced around some houses, as though
hugging them. Nothing moved on the street, not even an animal
darted across the pavement.
    “Looks pretty clear,” Al whispered. She pulled into
his driveway.
    Their backyard was covered in fog.
    “Best to stay clear of that,” Hector said.
    “No shit,” Molly replied. Hector looked at her in
shock.
    “Let’s go,” Al grabbed Big Bertha and the first aid
kit, opened the door and slipped out. Molly helped Gruff and Hector
kept a close eye on the mists, which fluttered at the edge of the
backyard. They quickly went to the back and found the dilapidated
door unlocked.
    The door creaked open and they all slipped inside.
They closed the door and stood at the back of the kitchen. Black
and no-longer-quite-white linoleum tiles covered the floor. The
counters were white, as was the small oven. The olive-coloured
fridge hummed loudly.
    “Gretchen?” Gruff called out. The house would have
been deathly quiet if not for the hum of the fridge and the ticking
of the grandfather clock in the living room. Gruff waited for an
answer, kicked off his work boots and went to remove his coat but
grunted and stopped. Al took a step toward him, but he waved her
off.
    “I’m fine. Really. She’s probably asleep. I’ll go
wake her.” He walked slowly down the hallway. Gruff was pushing
seventy. It had never really struck Al before how that made him
old. Right now, watching his slow, careful walk, it was all she
could think of.
    “This house is time trapped in the 70s,” Molly
whispered in awe. “They’ve even got the rusty old can opener to
prove it!”
    Molly walked into the kitchen, opening drawers and
giggling at the old utensils she found. Al shook her head and
focused on Hector instead.
    “All right, make this fast,” Al reached into her
coat and felt the smooth cover of the watch. She handed it to him.
His eyes filled with tears as he looked at the watch. He ran his
fingers over it, as though feeling each tiny engraved line. As
though the pine tree and the tiny house had been his, once. His
hands shook slightly as he popped it open. The glass face was
intact, the tiny gold and blue inlays of the timepiece glinting in
the dull fluorescent light. The arrows pointed at 10:24. Always
10:24.
    He stared at the time, running his fingers over the
glass slowly.
    “Family legend has it that’s the time she passed
away. That the watch just stopped then, and wouldn’t restart,” Al
said, not too sure why. Maybe to snap him out of it. His grief was
almost palpable from where she stood. It was unnerving her as much
as the fog.
    She looked more closely at him. His coat was
greenish brown, all wool. His hair was short but still longer than
he seemed used to, flicking it back even though it barely reached
his eyes.
    “I have to get this moving again,” he whispered, to
the watch or to her, Al wasn’t sure.
    Al nodded nevertheless. “And that’ll… I can’t
believe I’m saying this, but that’ll stop the mists?”
    “I hope,” he gave her a weak grin.
    “Al,” Molly