Shadow Days by Andrea Cremer Read Free Book Online

to comments before trying out the video again. I got the same fuzzy crap anytime I tried filming the statues.
    Instead of stomping on the camera, I decided to try some experi-ments, approaching the sculptures from different angles. I got the same results every time.
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    I ditched the video and went for old school. My digital camera failed, giving me only blurred shadows where the statue should have been. I wished that was more of a surprise. And it meant another trip into town, but getting out of the mansion was pretty much a relief. I took the scenic route, though anywhere on this stretch of I-70 could qualify as scenic. But I’d decided to wind my way through the small mountain towns that dotted Vail Valley.
    The previous day’s rain had given way to gentle autumn sunlight.
    I drove with the windows down, steering my way through frisco’s Main Street. Catching sight of an open parking space right in front of the Next Page bookshop, I decided to stop in, not that I needed any more books, but frisco was much more my speed than Vail. I lingered in the bookstore, picking up three novels and a hiking guide for the region. I’d stared at a book titled Coast to Coast Ghosts: True Stories of Hauntings Across America, but I couldn’t bring myself to pick it up.
    I kept heading east and toyed with the idea of going all the way to Denver and spending the night there instead of returning to Vail.
    But it wasn’t like I knew anyone in Denver either. I doubled back but drove right through Vail without stopping. I did withhold the string of curses I wanted to shout out the window at the town that was getting under my skin. No reason to start a rumor that I was the new local crazy dude living alone in the weird mansion.
    Man, what if I am that guy?
    I was pulling into the parking lot of Avon’s Wal-Mart—the only place I thought I could find a cheap instant camera—when my phone buzzed. I didn’t recognize the number.
    “Shay?” I didn’t recognize the man’s voice. He spoke my name in a clipped, nervous fashion.
    “Who is this?” I asked.
    “Are you in Vail? Have they moved you into Rowan Estate?”
    I killed the engine. “Who is this?”
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    The line went dead. What the hell?
    I found the number in my call log and pressed the call button.
    A tinny voice answered, “The number you have dialed is not in service. Please check the number and try again.”
    The tension that had eased out of my limbs the farther I drove from Vail dug its way back into my shoulders. I slammed my fist into the steering wheel and took a few deep breaths before I went into the store.
    I hated that it was already dark by the time I got back to Rowan Estate, but that was my own doing. I had stayed in Avon for dinner, reading my novel and listening to the conversations of people around me. People who weren’t exiled from their friends. I wanted to punch myself in the gut for all the internal whining I was doing.
    It was pathetic. Several hours of reading about Katniss Everdeen’s problems made me decide my life was pretty damn good. I was tired of feeling sorry for myself, and I was also just plain tired.
    It might have been smart for me to go to bed early, anticipating being woken at five in the morning again, but I wanted to finish up my experiment. Using the Polaroid I’d dug out from one of my boxes, I snapped photos of the statues and waited for them to develop. Blurry. No image. I snapped more photos with the instant camera I bought, wondering if it was even worth getting them developed. Time for manual labor.
    I started sketching and lost track of time. It was 1 a.m. when I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore. I dragged my sorry ass to bed, hoping I’d sleep through the night.
    No such luck.
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    seven
    A
    lACk of sleeP mAde me feel like a man possessed, and possession wasn’t something I wanted to think about, but I was trying my best not to let that show up on facebook. I didn’t want my new online friends to decide I had multiple