Fear: 13 Stories of Suspense and Horror Read Online Free PDF Page A

know that she was being seduced—no matter how naïve she might have appeared at times.
    I was cool, after all.
    I found myself realizing that she was close, that she was wearing a truly exotic perfume. Her body was warm, enticing. She had moved even a little closer to me—no, I had moved a little closer to her. That perfume. Wow. It was seductive.
    I almost felt guilty.
    Almost. In fact, I was so close to guilt, I could taste it.
    I tamped down the feeling. It was Halloween. It was perfect. All was going according to plan.
    â€œI always thought of you as shy,” I murmured.
    â€œI guess I am shy, usually. It’s just that . . . well, I’ve heard about you. I’ve watched you, as I told you, and the girls talk, of course,” she told me.
    Was it kind of a come-on? Was I supposed to prove that I was as studly as she had heard?
    I leaned back, smiling. I let my fingers play in that long, silky black hair of hers. How odd—I mean, it was her hair. The same hair she had every day. Tonight . . . it was electric. So sleek and shiny it almost gleamed blue.
    â€œWhere am I going?” she asked.
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œI love driving your car, but where should I drive to?”
    â€œSomewhere quiet. Where we can be alone,” I said.
    Too much? Would she bolt?
    â€œWell, where would you be going if you were driving?” she asked.
    â€œQuiet where we won’t be disturbed . . .” I murmured, as if I were deep in thought. I looked at her. “I know. The cemetery.”
    â€œOh.”
    â€œDoes it disturb you? I mean, if so—”
    â€œOh, no,” she said. “I like cemeteries. They’re full of history.”
    â€œThey’re full of the dead,” I couldn’t help but say.
    Her sweet, teasing smile slipped back to her lips. “History,” she said stubbornly. “Cemeteries are filled with stories, and with lives gone by, and history.”
    â€œSure.”
    She drove straight to the cemetery far out on Main Street. She was right about the history. The cemetery went way back; heroes from the Revolutionary War were buried in it. Hell, there was a grave that belonged to a fellow who had come over on the Mayflower . There was a small church way down on the western side, so I guess that meant it was officially called a graveyard rather than a cemetery; but the church was one of the oldest buildings in our area, and it was small, locked tight at night. In fact, the structure, standing kind of forlorn in the cool moonlight, made it all the better.
    The point here is that the place was old, spooky, and neat. There was a wall around it, an old stone wall. But the wall was about two feet high. I had a blanket and the cooler in back. It was mild for October.
    Perfect. Once again, I counted my blessings. All things were—perfect.
    â€œWe’re going into the cemetery?” she asked.
    â€œDead people are the safest people in the world, you know. They won’t hurt you,” I told her. “You just said that you liked cemeteries—they’re filled with history and great stories about lives gone past.”
    â€œThat’s in the daytime,” she said, shaking her head. But she was just watching me—she wasn’t really protesting.
    â€œHave you ever been in a cemetery at night?” I asked.
    â€œMaybe,” she said coyly.
    Maybe. Oh, she was lying.
    She shivered slightly.
    â€œWe can go somewhere else. I mean, believe it or not, I just kind of love the peace around here, and the . . . the quiet,” I said. I was surprised. I sounded a little lame.
    She looked at me and smiled slowly. “Well, I will be with you.”
    â€œYou are certainly safe with the folks in a cemetery,” I said. “Graveyard. Whatever.”
    Of course, in my mind, I was being totally honest. None of the folks in their graves would do her any harm.
    So we gathered up the cooler and a blanket, exited the car, and hopped