Gabriel's Clock Read Online Free PDF

I can’t let them find me.
    He increased his speed, lurching along the unmade road with barely enough control to stay upright. Stones cut his feet, branches reached out to catch his face, but all he could think about was getting home, saving his dad—who would have miraculously avoided the worst of the falling masonry. And his mom would be there too, cooking dinner—he could have fish and chips to make up for the meal he’d had to leave behind.
    Gasping for breath and with his head screaming at him in agony, Jonathan shuffled round a bend in the road to step into a patch of bright moonlight. In front of him lay a village with a church, a green, a cluster of cottages, and a pond glinting beneath a layer of mist. Jonathan stopped, and with hysterical laughter bubbling up inside him he sank to his knees and keeled over. He’d turned himself round somehow, and he was back where he started.
    Standing in the road not three meters away were the silhouettes of two figures, one burly, one slim. Had he walked right back to the monsters? The huge figure dashed forward, and Jonathan braced himself for the death he felt sure was coming. The pain in his head grew unbearable, and hot tears ran down his face.
    Hands reached for him and he shut his eyes. He barely heard Grimm’s rumbling baritone, asking him if he was all right, before the huge man gently picked him up and cradled him to his chest.
    â€œDad?” Jonathan mumbled.
    â€œNo, lad,” said Grimm, an odd catch in his voice. “Not your dad, but you’re safe here, you’re safe. Nobody will hurt you or my name’s not Halcyon Grimm.”
    â€œWhere . . . am . . . I?” begged Jonathan as he clung to Grimm, the ground seeming to fly by beneath him.
    â€œYou’re home,” said Ignatius, his face taut with worry as he strode along next to them. “You’re home.”
    â€œHome . . .” Jonathan sighed. Then he blacked out again.

Chapter 5
F AR FROM O RDINARY
    The sound of church bells gradually filtered through Jonathan’s fuzzy head. Sunlight brushed his face, and he could feel something cold and metallic being pressed against his chest. Slowly opening his eyes, he saw a huge man with a bald head and a stethoscope plugged into his ears.
    Jonathan froze.
    Grimm looked down to see a frightened Jonathan staring at him. “I wondered why your heart suddenly went into overdrive,” he said, unclipping the stethoscope and placing it carefully in an old leather doctor’s bag. “Don’t be afraid. My name’s Grimm, and I’ve been keeping a very close eye on you since you arrived. Now, I know you’re probably scared and you’re not going to believe anything I say, but you’re safe, and you’re among friends, truly.”
    Jonathan tried to sit up, but pain lanced through his head. He fell back against the pillows and bit his lip against the dull, red ache that spread behind his eyes.
    â€œ
Whoa!
Don’t move your head so quickly. You’re recovering from a fractured skull. If we hadn’t found you when we did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
    â€œWhere am I?” Jonathan asked through gritted teeth.
    â€œYou’re in the village of Hobbes End,” said Grimm. “Specifically, you’re in one of the spare bedrooms of the vicarage in the village of Hobbes End. Those bells you can hear are from the church next door. St. Michael’s. If you listen closely, you can tell that the bell ringers need substantial practice if they’re to stop sounding like an explosion in a saucepan factory.”
    Jonathan couldn’t help but give Grimm a weak smile.
    â€œWhat’s your name, son?” asked Grimm.
    â€œIt’s Jonathan.”
    â€œThen I’m pleased to meet you, Jonathan,” said Grimm, smiling broadly to reveal a set of even white teeth, quite out of keeping with the battered condition of the