Black Read Online Free PDF Page B

tell him what was going on. He didn’t even know what he was running from.
    But he was running, wasn’t he?
    That’s why he was having those crazy dreams of Denver. He was dreaming of running in Denver because he really was running. Here, in this black forest.
    He glanced back in the direction he assumed he’d come from, then quickly realized he had no idea which direction he’d truly come from. Behind him, the sharp shale that had sliced into his feet and arms. Beyond the shale, more black forest. Ahead, the field of flies and then more black forest. Everywhere, the black, angular trees.
    A cackle rasped through the air to his right. Tom turned slowly. A second bat within spitting distance stared at him from its perch on a branch. It looked like someone had stuffed two cherries into the flier’s eye sockets and then pinned its eyelids back.
    Movement in the sky. He glanced up. More bats. Streams of them, filling the bare branches high above. The bat nearby did not flinch. Did not blink. The treetops turned black with bats.
    Eyes fixed on the lone creature, Tom backed into a rock and reached out his hand to steady himself. His hand touched water.
    A chill surged through his fingers, up his arm. A cool pleasure. Yes, of course, the water. Something was up with the water; that was another thing he remembered. He knew he should jerk his hand out, but he was off balance and his eyes were fixed on the black bat, who stared at him with those bulging red eyes, and he let his hand linger.
    He dropped to his elbow and pulled his hand out of the water, turning to it as he did.
    The small pool of water pulsed with emerald hues. Immediately he felt himself drawn in. His face was eighteen inches from this shimmering liquid, and he desperately wanted to thrust his head into the puddle, but he knew, he just knew . . .
    Actually, he wasn’t sure what he knew.
    He knew he couldn’t break his stare and look off somewhere else, like at the buzzing meadow or at the canopy still filling with black bats.
    The bats screeched in delight somewhere in the back of his mind.
    He slowly dipped a finger into the puddle. Another shot of pleasure surged through his veins, a tingling sensation that he liked. More than liked. It was like Novocain. And then he felt another sensation joining the first. Pain. But the pleasure was greater. No wonder Bill had—
    A shriek pierced the sky.
    Tom’s eyes sprang open and he stared numbly at his hand. Red juice dripped from his fingers. Red juice or blood.
    Blood?
    He stepped back.
    Another shriek high above him. He looked at the sky and saw that a lone white bat was streaking through the ranks of black beasts, scattering them from their perches.
    The black creatures gave chase, obviously opposing the presence of the white flier. With a piercing cry, the white intruder looped over and dived
through the squawking throngs again. If the black bats are my enemies, the white one might be my ally. But were the black bats his enemies?
    He looked back at the water. Pulsing, wonderful. It occurred to Tom that he wasn’t thinking clearly.
    A shrill call like a trumpet sounded from the white bat’s direction. Tom turned again and saw that the white bat had circled and was streaking over the meadow, trumpeting as it blasted through the horde of black flies. And then Tom caught a single, brief glimpse of the white bat’s green eyes as it swooped by.
    He knew those eyes!
    If he wanted to live out this day, he had to follow that white flier. He was sure of it. Tom tore his feet from the ground and lurched toward the meadow. His flesh throbbed from the cuts of yesterday’s fall and his bones felt like they were on fire, but everything was suddenly quite clear. He had to follow the white creature or he would die.
    He forced his legs forward and ran into the meadow despite the pain. He’d made it this far into the black forest by running, hadn’t he? And now it was time to