Ghost Moon Read Online Free PDF Page A

lips would not form the word.
    ‘‘I’m not getting anywhere with this.’’ Charlie’s voice was ragged. Despite his words, his hands were still rhythmically compressing Big John’s chest.
    Seth’s gaze dropped away from hers as they both switched their attention to Big John. Charlie was pumping hard, his right hand crossed over his left on Big John’s chest, his face red with effort. Seth’s strong brown hand moved to grasp the old man’s limp paper-white fingers.
    ‘‘Big John, it’s Seth,’’ he said softly. ‘‘It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.’’
    Seth was Big John’s oldest grandson, his favorite, the one the old man, with unabashed pride, pointed out to all and sundry as his heir. If Big John could hear anything in this moment of extremis, Seth’s would be the voice that would most comfort him.
    Pray for us now and at the hour of our death. . . . The words of the prayer ran through Olivia’s mind in an endless loop. Behind her, Sara’s knees still pressed into her back. Her daughter still clasped her hand. Drawing on these reminders for strength, Olivia once again dashed the tears from her cheeks.
    ‘‘The ambulance is here!’’ a woman called with high-pitched excitement, both hands waving as she ran toward them from the direction of the driveway. Behind her, cars pulled to one side and people scattered as an ambulance came up the driveway, then pulled off the pavement to bump over the lawn toward them, its red lights flashing but its siren mercifully silent. When at last the vehicle stopped just a few feet away, emergency medical technicians leaped out and hurried toward the victim.
    ‘‘Stand back, please! Stand back!’’
    Olivia stumbled to her feet, keeping Sara close to her, making room along with the rest of the crowd as the emergency personnel took over. With the sound of popping buttons, Big John’s shirt was ripped open and the paddles of a portable defibrillator were applied to either side of his chest.
    ‘‘One—two—three! Clear! ’’
    With a sound like a watermelon hitting pavement, the defibrillator did its job, once, twice, lifting Big John’s body off the grass only to allow it to flop back down like a landed fish. The smell of burning filled the air.
    Olivia shuddered. Sara pressed close against her side, her arms wrapping around her mother’s waist. Olivia hugged her daughter close.
    ‘‘We’ve got a pulse!’’ one of the EMTs cried.
    ‘‘Let’s go!’’
    With a series of well-coordinated movements, the EMTs scooped Big John onto a stretcher, picked the stretcher up, ran the few steps to the open back door of the ambulance, and loaded him inside.
    Seth and Charlie ran behind them, sport coats flapping in the breeze made by their haste. They were joined by a thin, sixtyish woman with short, carefully groomed auburn hair. She wore a blue floral dress, and her high heels kept sinking into the turf, giving her an odd, jerking gait as she ran. With a shock, Olivia recognized her as Belinda Vernon, Big John’s daughter, Seth’s aunt, and Charlie’s wife.
    All those years ago, Belinda Vernon had disliked her. Swamp trash was what Belinda had called her once, angry over the teenage Olivia’s unrepentant attitude after Belinda took her to task for an outfit she was wearing. After that, Olivia had never again deigned to address her as Aunt Belinda, as she had been taught. The few times she’d had to call her something, she had said simply Belinda, in an insolent way that had only served to fuel the older woman’s outrage.
    In the face of the present emergency, though, past enmity merited no more than a flicker of remembrance. Olivia found herself instinctively running toward the ambulance, too, Sara’s hand clutched in hers. She caught up with the others just as Charlie jumped in the back with Big John and the EMTs. Belinda clambered up next. Olivia grabbed at Seth’s sleeve as he put a foot on the ambulance floor preparatory to heaving himself