Cry For Tomorrow Read Online Free PDF

around the dog, I leaned against her and whispered, “You too, Dusty,” into the soft fur. The dog panted in acknowledgement and we both returned our attention to the drama being enacted before us.
    It was obvious that the aura of doom projected by the reaper had penetrated the detached minds of even the most distant of the mind-warped, for there were murmurs and soft cries of despair when the giant dismounted and walked toward the circle. Even from where I was watching, I could see the tell-tale shaking of hands and knees, the frightened blinking of eyes that were focused upon the thing approaching them—and the deadly sword clasped loosely in his hands.
    When the reaper came to a stop at the outer fringe of the cycles, a biker, not as big or imposing but nearly as savage to look upon with his scraggly orange hair, black sun-shades and death’s head face, strode forward to stand at the reaper’s right-hand side.
    “You freaks have been warned! This block is now, officially, part of the Red Demon’s domain, and we don’t want to see your skanky hides around here no more!” He kicked the nearest man in the gut with his heavy black boot, making him double over, gasping in pain.
    As if that were the signal they’d been waiting for, the bikers charged the cluster of freaks, riding their bikes into their midst, swinging billie-clubs against heads and kicking boots into faces.
    My fingers were white where I was gripping the side of the trash bin we were hiding behind, and my whole body was shaking with rage and helplessness. This was more than my mind could comprehend. It was not possible for anyone even vaguely human to behave so brutally toward another creature. Even as my stricken mind reminded me that the reaper did not seem truly human, I realized that he had not made a move yet. My stomach heaved in rebellion, but I forced my eyes back to the giant where he stood, perfectly still, like a hawk waiting to strike—and he moved .
    Like the dark hand of death, he struck without warning, and six men and women lay convulsing on the ground, blood and guts oozing from their torn bodies.
    The pure brutality of the reaper’s attack sent the freaks scrambling in every direction, trying to escape into the night. Those whose mental ability allowed them to think beyond their own need tried to reach the children, who were too frightened or young or damaged to scramble to safety.
    As if fueled by their fear and pain, the reaper showed no pity as he strode on into the churning mass of humanity, the bloody sword he wielded swinging to and fro, slashing through throats or unprotected bodies. Relentlessly, he pursued these damaged young people and with the swift stroke of his blade took their heads and their lives, laughing evilly with each that he took.
    Helpless to stop the slaughter and afraid of drawing attention to ourselves, Jake and I could only huddle together, staring in horrified silence. A lone woman with three small children clinging to her skirts suddenly surged way from the confusion and toward the shadows of the alleyway that we were hiding in. As she drew closer we saw an awareness and consciousness unusual for a freak in the woman’s eyes as she desperately tried to drag the children to safety.
    Jake and I hurriedly pushed the trash cans aside to make way for the woman. It seemed that her frantically churning legs were moving in slow motion and the distance seemed to grow with each labored step. She was finally drawing close, only a few yards more, when the agonized scream of a dying man echoed off the wall of the building we were hiding beside, filling the alley with his pain.
    The reaper’s head snapped about and this time his attention was focused on the dark mouth of our refuge. I could see the flames of hell shimmering in his eyes when they locked onto the woman and children scurrying away from him. Swinging the sword in a menacing figure-eight he took a stride after her, but a man garbed in rags of bright red