Summer's End by Lisa Morton Read Free Book Online Page A

ever-present sound of sirens (in an area as big
as L.A., there’s always a catastrophe happening somewhere) and the thrum of
freeway congestion.
    I came to an intersection, and
even though I couldn’t see any approaching cars, I waited for the crosswalk
light to turn green—the last thing in the world I needed right now was for a
hidden cop to nab me for jaywalking.
    “I’m really sorry, officer,
and—what? No, that’s not blood under my fingernails, of course not…” My
rational mind assured me that there was no visible blood beneath the nails of
the hands I’d scrubbed until they were raw and red, but I still wasn’t taking
any chances. I waited.
    The shop on the corner was one
of those little cluttered gift shops, the kind that you glance in and you can’t
imagine buying any of this kitschy nonsense and you wonder how they stay in
business. Because it was Halloween, their front display windows were full of
little papier mâché pumpkins (some were sprayed with glitter or even wore
little aprons, which offended my highly-honed sense of Halloween decorum), cute
witch and cat figurines, and gingerbread-scented candles. There were Halloween
salt shakers and mugs and hand towels.
    Near the bottom was a
jack-o’-lantern that made me stop and stare. It was white, almost the size of a
real pumpkin, and lit with some sort of reddish glow from within. It also bore
one of the most grotesquely carved faces I’d ever seen—eyes with knitted brows,
a huge snaggletoothed grin, and two slits for a nose. It didn’t begin to match
the other items in the window, all of which would have been more at home in an
Anne Geddes photo book than a Stephen King novel, and it was the only piece
that seemed to be lit.
    I was bending down to look more
closely at it when it moved. It turned and looked directly up at me.
    Now I knew why it looked
familiar. I’d seen it before, outside the window of ó Cuinn’s office.
    But this time it didn’t vanish
abruptly—I think it wanted me to see it. Its rictus grin widened, spilling even
more crimson light out around it, although I couldn’t make out the rest of its
body. I took one, two steps back—
    HOONNNK! I’d backed right into
the street, and hadn’t even noticed the car barreling through the intersection.
Heart hammering, I leapt back up onto the curb and the car sped off into the
night.
    When I looked back at the
window, the face was gone.
    It was coming for me.
    Fuck it—I ran, then, ran
against the red light and regardless of who might see me and wonder what I was
running from. I didn’t look into any of the other windows I passed, or listen
for the sound of tiny footsteps coming up behind me, closer and closer…I ran,
digging into my purse as I neared my car, trying to find my keys which always
fell to the bottom of the voluminous bag, requiring precious extra seconds to
dig them out—
    I had them. I flipped up the
car key, jammed it into the lock, threw the door open, and fell into the front
seat. I slammed the door behind me, pressed the lock button—and flinched as
something hit the door outside hard, making the whole car shake. I heard a
high-pitched squeal.
     Somehow I managed to get the
right key into the ignition, start the car, and take off, burning rubber. I’d
driven two blocks before I realized the parking brake was still on. I ran one
stoplight (got lucky), then risked a glance in the rearview mirror.
    Nothing but a quiet street of
closed shops. A few headlights in the distance. Nothing chasing me, no sign of
anything unusual.
    Five minutes later I was home.
I waited a few moments before I opened the car door—what if it had somehow
attached itself to the car, or followed where I couldn’t see it? Did it even
need normal laws of physics? Could it simply wish itself here, to continue its
mischief…or worse?
    When it proved quiet, I opened
the door and stepped out. Still safe. Closing the door, I glanced down—and saw
a dent in the door panel.
    So much for the