Creed Read Online Free PDF Page A

primitive graveyard where they probably didn’t even use coffins, I figured it couldn’t hurt to follow his lead and be overly cautious.
    “Can we forget the candle and stick to the shed?” I asked as I pried my other foot free.
    Luke tucked his hand deeper into mine and we edged away from the grave, refocusing on the shed. His fingers were cold, frozen into slender ice cubes, but comforting nonetheless. He winked at me out of the corner of my eye and I couldn’t help but grin. If I had to be stuck out here in this hell, I was lucky to be here with him.
    The shed was old, its sides worn from the weather and its roof sinking in the middle. I groaned as we stepped up to the door. My mood was already black, and the padlock staring back at me was making it worse.
    “Locked,” Luke said as he turned to face me, a hint of resignation in his voice. His eyes flickered with frustration, and I shrugged.
    I was fully prepared to turn around and forget about the shed and its promise of gas when the first crack of metal rang through the night air. It was deafening and I screamed, my entire body convulsing in fear.
    Luke pried my hands from my ears, his mouth turning up in a grin. “You honestly thought he’d give up that easily?” he asked, gesturing toward Mike. “The guy that drank gasoline? C’mon, Dee.”
    The dim moonlight glinted off of the object clenched in Mike’s hand. I looked closer, recognizing the tire iron we’d brought with us from the car. Up until then, I’d forgotten we had it.
    “Another couple good hits and I think this will break,” Mike said as he swung at the padlock again. The sound echoed like a million pieces of broken glass, the contact sending sparks of metal flying.
    “Uh, Mike? Do you think that’s a good idea?” I asked as I swung my head around, scanning the area for people. The last thing I wanted was to get busted for some kind of sick vandalism. Not to mention that Luke was heading for college in the fall. Desecration of a grave wasn’t exactly an appealing thing for schools to see on his record.
    Plus, I only had six months until I was legally free and could no longer be considered a ward of the state. Add a crime like vandalizing the dead to my already sketchy past, and I was sure social services would find a way to hang onto me a bit longer.
    “Best idea I’ve had all day,” Mike replied. “Especially since it was your boyfriend who made the let’s-get-off-the-highway-and-take-the-creepy-backwoods-road call.” He chuckled as Luke flipped him off.
    Actually, it’d been my call. I didn’t want to be late for the concert, so Luke had done what he always did … he tried to fix the problem and make me happy by finding an alternate route.
    Mike stepped back, widened his stance, and swung the tire iron again. The lock broke, the vibration of the metals colliding traveling through the ground.
    “Yes!” Mike shouted, dropping the tire iron. He tossed the broken lock aside, a muted thunk coming from somewhere in a nearby shrub.
    Luke stepped in first, sputtering and brushing cobwebs from his face. “I can’t see a damn thing,” he said, his arms outstretched in the darkness.
    “Here.” Mike tossed him the flashlight we’d taken with us from the car. “Use this.”
    A small beam of light illuminated the dark room. “Gas can, gas can … there’s gotta be something useful in here,” Luke muttered to himself.
    I flipped open my cell phone and used the light from my home screen to navigate the edges of the room. Hooks lined the walls, most of them supporting yard tools. Hedge trimmers, weed whacker, leaf blower. Pickaxe. “Pickaxe? What would somebody need a pickaxe for?” I asked.
    “I don’t know. Maybe they use it in the winter when people die and the ground is frozen,” Luke offered.
    I turned to glare at him, not even remotely thankful for his insight. Mike ignored us and continued rifling through some large plastic bins lining the wall, cursing as a large