Eve of Redemption Read Online Free PDF

John wished he had taken better care of them.
    Another flash of light—this time he was sure the curtain in the master bedroom had moved. As he stepped up to the curb in front of his house, it occurred to him that anyone could be watching him through the dark windows. The quarter moon cast a faint glow, but the overcast sky allowed little light through. He felt vulnerable in the open and crossed the small front yard as fast as his battered body would allow. He peered in a living room window, but the darkness prevented him from seeing anything.
    Burke moved around the house and pushed open the iron gate to the backyard. The squeal of the gate started a dog barking behind the fence that separated his house from the neighbor. Burke pressed his body against the house and held his breath, willing the stupid dog to shut up. A rough drunken voice yelled for the mutt to, “Shut your trap.” Surprisingly, the mutt did. Once he was confident the dog was going to remain quiet, Burke slipped alongside the sliding door that led from the back patio to the family room inside. When Sara was young, the patio had been covered in chalk drawings and featured a playhouse. Now, there was only the rusty grill and an even rustier cheap patio set. He leaned over and peered through the glass door, but the darkness was complete. Then a flash of that same, dim light. It had only been there a second and had not been bright enough to be a flashlight or a flame. What was it? Keeping to the shadows, he moved back around the house until he could see the front door. He stopped again to listen. Except for a television turned up too loud somewhere in the neighborhood, the night was quiet.
    Burke pulled a set of keys from his pocket and slipped one into the key slot. He turned the key harder than he intended, and the lock made a loud click as the deadbolt slammed open. For a moment he just stood there, his heavy breathing and the neighbor’s television the only sounds. Finally, he turned the knob and pushed the door open. Even through his swollen nose, he could smell the dry, dusty odor from inside. As he slipped through the door, he sent a silent apology to his wife, wherever she was, for letting the house and the roses fall into such a state. He flipped on the light switch. Nothing happened. The rest of the neighborhood appeared to have power. Only his house sat in darkness.
    Burke moved deeper into the gloom. He tried to remember where there might be a flashlight, but the only one he could think of was upstairs in the table beside his bed. That was too far to go in the dark. Matches? Cupboard by the back door. He used to keep some there for the grill before he replaced the bad igniter. Taking another step, he felt his shin smack against something hard. Gritting his teeth, Burke cursed under his breath. The coffee table that he had bumped made a scraping sound as it slid a few inches on the tile floor. At the same moment, he thought he heard another sound from deeper within the house. He bit his tongue to hold back his curses and listened. Nothing—all was quiet.
    “This is crazy,” Burke muttered as he felt his way toward the kitchen. He had taken only two steps when he heard a board creak above his head. He froze where he was, staring up into the darkness. Why was it so dark, anyway? He didn’t remember it ever being this dark in the house. He turned and looked back to where a slightly brighter spot betrayed the location of the window in the front door. Without light, whoever was in the house would be as blind as himself.
    The sound came again, this time from the stairs. He spun around and saw a ball of light slowly descending the staircase, illuminating the dark wooden stairs and white handrail. The light pulled his eyes toward it like a lifeline, floating, not bright enough to reveal whoever held it. Burke stood in the darkness, waiting for whatever was to come.
    Finally, the light reached the bottom of the stairs, only seven or eight feet from