Glimpses: The Best Short Stories of Rick Hautala Read Online Free PDF

classroom doors, looking in amazement left and right, he saw pale, transparent figures of children, some of whom he recognized, some he didn’t, shifting against the deep amber shadows that filled all of the rooms.
    "... you should have … told someone, Petey … you shouldn't have ... left me ... all alone ... to die ... all … alone …"
    Ray's voice surrounded Pete, echoing with a soft rustle that never quite stopped. It filled Pete's head like a rapid, muffled heartbeat that sounded almost like ...
    — Running fee t-—
    "Jesus Christ , Ray! Honest to God, I didn't see anything! "
    ". .. yes ... you .. . did ... I... saw ... you … there.... before I died …"
    The floorboards creaked beneath Pete's feet as he kept moving toward the distant front door, but the corridor seemed to telescope outward, shifting away from him no matter how fast he tried to move toward it. All around him, the schoolhouse was alive with gauzy, fluttering figures and choruses of disembodied voices and echoing laughter and screams.
    Then, suddenly, a figure appeared between him and the front door.
    The shape blocked the light and was backlit by the harsh glare of sunshine. Pete couldn't make out the features, but there was something terrifyingly familiar about the silhouette. Slouch-shouldered and crouching, the figure looming as it raised its arms like a football player about to tackle his opponent.
    "... come here, Petey … you know, I've been waiting for you ... waiting a long time …. for you ... to come back to me ..."
    Pete stumbled to a halt, suddenly aware that the voices in the classrooms had suddenly ceased. He stared, dumbfounded at the figure between him and the front door. A cold dash of chills ran up his back when he recognized the school janitor, Mr. Clain.
    "... you should have …. been next... to die …” the figure said. "... I had you both … but you, you little bastard, you got away … from me ... and I had to ... I had to kill myself … I hanged myself ... down there ... in my room … before they caught me ... because of … what I'd done ... to your friend ... to your ... best friend ..."
    "Jesus, no! " Pete whispered hoarsely. "You aren't real! None of you are real! You can’t be real!"
    "... but I am ... and it's still … not too late!... I can still. . . get you …"
    "Like hell you can!" Pete shouted.
    His voice burst like a gunshot from his chest. Tensing every muscle in his body, he lowered his head and started running, charging for the front door. Wind whistled in his ears and, below that sound, just at the edge of hearing, was Ray Makki’s wailing voice.
    "... please ... don't leave me here ... Petey ... don't ... leave ... me ... here ... alone ... again! ..."
    —Running feet—
    Pete pumped his arms furiously. His sneakers slapped the floor hard as he ran. The dark figure blocking the doorway grew impossibly large in front of him, swelling and expanding until it blocked out the sunlight entirely. Pete thrust his hands out in front of him, prepared either to wrestle with the apparition or else reach through it and slam the door open. His long, agonized scream was abruptly cut short when he smashed full-force into the wall of wire-reinforced glass.
    Cindy was standing on the other side of the door, bending forward as she peered into the school. She let out a high, piercing screech and threw herself backwards when she saw Pete running down the hallway directly toward her.
    In a blinding instant, she heard a sickening, wet thud as Pete slammed into the door. This was followed by a shattering explosion as broken glass, glittering in the sunlight, sprayed like a fountain of diamonds into the air. A few needle-sharp fragments showered the walkway, but most of them were held back by the wire mesh embedded inside the glass. They sliced into Pete's body like hundreds of tiny knife blades. A bright scarlet spray of blood shot out through the shattered glass.
    Ryan was playing behind the maple tree. The loud