Croak Read Online Free PDF Page A

she said in a misguided attempt to use reverse psychology. “I don’t care.”
    “Wonderful.”
    This infuriated Lex all over again. She jumped off the seat, only to be grabbed around the waist and wrangled back into it. “Let me go!” She tore off a mirror and brandished it in his face. “I mean it! I don’t want to go to your godforsaken hellbarn, you retarded psycho farmer!”
    He let out an amused snicker. “I’m not a farmer.”
    Lex stopped railing for a moment and blinked in confusion. “Then what are you?”
    “Let’s just say I’m in the business of importing and exporting.”
    She rolled her eyes. “Call it whatever you want. It still involves fertilizer.”
    “I suppose it does, in a manner of speaking.”
    Lex gritted her teeth. Among her many other shortcomings, she was not a patient girl. She didn’t know how much longer she could stand to be in the dark, irked and befuddled by a blatantly unhinged man who spoke only in riddles.
    “Don’t worry, Lexington,” he said in a warm, avuncular voice. “You’ve got a truckload of potential, I can tell. You’re going to excel here.”
    “Excel at
what?
Asking pointless questions that never get answered?”
    “Oh, absolutely. But in addition to that—” He pried the mirror from her hands and smiled enigmatically. “This is going to be the best summer of your life. Trust me.”
    As all kids know, it’s difficult enough to trust any adult, much less a deranged, life-endangering importer-exporter. As her uncle kicked the bike into gear, the possibility that maybe he really was a mass murderer crept back into her mind. Of
course
he was. Of
course
he had a machete stashed somewhere in the woods. Her small intestine would soon be strewn messily across the road, her head bouncing off into the trees like a kickball.
    The tires slogged through more mud as they drove deeper into the very heart of the Adirondacks. The sky had all but disappeared from view. She peered over his shoulder, but could see nothing more than the rise of a small hill.
    “We’re here,” Uncle Mort said as they came to a halt at the top.
    “Where?”
    He pointed ahead. “The godforsaken hellbarn.”
    Lex stared. And stared.
    Gone was the thick, ugly brush of forest. In its place lay a valley below, with rolling hills of green stretching as far as Lex’s stunned eyes could see. Dazzling blue ponds glittered furiously as the sun finally broke through the clouds. A gentle breeze wafted through the leafy trees and up the hill, bringing with it the luscious smell of lavender, vanilla, and freshly cut grass.
    Uncle Mort turned to her and smiled.
    “Welcome to Croak.”

4
     
    “I gotta be honest, Lex,” Uncle Mort said as they continued down the hill into town, slowing the bike so they could speak without yelling. “You look just about ready to soil yourself.”
    Lex shot him a glare, then eyed a sign at the side of the road that read CROAK ! POPULATION : 78. The number clicked over to 80 as they passed.
    She scrunched up her nose. “That was weird.”
    “But accurate.”
    Lex gazed at the handful of small buildings as they passed by. “I don’t get it. Where’s the town?” she asked, searching into the distance.
    “You’re in it.”
    “This is
it?
”
    “It is small,” Uncle Mort agreed. “But it’s got heart.”
    Lex assumed he meant this literally as well as figuratively, since both sides of the street were lined with blooms of brilliantly red bleeding-heart flowers. As she gawked at the short buildings, she got the eeriest feeling that she had stumbled into a historical theme park. The storefronts just seemed so old-fashioned, like they were part of some bygone era of yore, or maybe even yesteryear. She had only ever seen places like this on the evening news during election years, when politicians invaded to kiss babies and purchase homemade pies from smiling, toothless bakery owners.
    “Please tell me you have running water,” she said.
    “Of course.