Nightfall by Ellen Connor Read Free Book Online Page A

hinges.
    Before Mason could stop her, she wrenched open the locks. Bodies tumbled into the cabin. Jenna skittered out of the way and stood motionless in the threshold. After jumping over a few people, Mason joined her. His arm brushing hers, he watched the snarling dogs as they circled the far end of the clearing. The moon glowed softly, not enough to reveal more than the suggestion of movement.
    â€œThey’re not attacking,” she said.
    â€œPlanning.”
    Jenna scanned the darkness, eyes intent. “Planning?”
    â€œGet back.”
    Mason slammed the door and cursed, resting his head against the wood. No amount of wishing would make any of this go away. So he turned and faced—a quick head count— five new burdens. That included one oddly silent little girl. Great.
    â€œThank you,” Jenna whispered.
    Anger cooked inside his chest like a swallow of boiling water. “Don’t thank me, because I don’t want the credit or the blame. You did this.”
    The newcomers stared at them. Some had already pushed off the floor, finding chairs. Mason walked back to the kitchen, closer to his weapons. No one was going Lord of the Flies on him with his own guns, not when they had bigger enemies to confront.
    He stood behind the table and assessed the group. A girl, maybe nine years old, and behind her stood a fair-skinned redhead in her forties. Mother and daughter shared the same wide indigo eyes. Then there was a punk in Goth gear, bristling with attitude, and a middleaged man who looked like a former athlete gone to seed. He had his arm around a chunky librarian type, who wore horn-rim glasses.
    Not promising.
    â€œRoll call,” he said harshly. “I don’t want your names yet, just some information. Did anyone grow up on a farm?”
    â€œWhat does it matter?” The Goth boy, about fifteen with black hair, scowled from the wing-backed chair. Jenna’s book lay on the floor beside his oversized combat boots.
    â€œBecause you might be used to slaughtering animals,” Mason said. “You’ll need that now. No hesitation. I guess you already know what we’re up against.” He waited as the words sank in. Mouths dropped opened, but no one contradicted him. “Anybody?”
    No one.
    â€œAnyone an avid camper? Former military? Know how to light a fire without matches? Anyone ever fired a gun?” Not a one. “Fucking hell.” He jabbed a finger toward where Jenna stood beside the fireplace. “I told you this was a bad idea.”
    She lifted her brows. “You going to throw them out?”
    â€œWait,” the aging athlete said. “Who put him in charge?”
    â€œIt’s my house.” Mason inhaled and quickly reassembled the AR-15. Thirty seconds of sure, easy rhythm, the stuff of long practice and certainty.
    He set his weapon aside and splayed his hands across the table. “Did anyone listen to the radio?”
    The kid laughed. “Can’t listen to anything. It’s all toast.”
    â€œCut the sarcasm,” Mason said. “I’m talking about whatever comes on the air. Anybody?”
    He had her now. He’d known the truth from Mitch’s stories, but watching it spread across Jenna’s face was a just reward. She rubbed her hands up and down her forearms. Slowly, finally, she nodded.
    The librarian-looking lady was pale and sweaty. She sank down to the floor, holding her ankle. “What does radio have to do with those ... things? Oh God—all those people.”
    Mason spared Jenna a glance. Her eyes had gone wide, her face pale.
    â€œWe can debate forever,” he said, “but you can’t deny the threat. The wolves are at the door. The change is here—and whether you believe it or not, it’s cataclysmic.” He paused to fill his lungs with air, scented by the stink of too many frightened bodies. “The more adaptable and flexible you were in your old life, the