Going Dark (Nightfallen #1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

buildings’ mechanical rooms, but these were locked. Jackson could have locked one of them behind him, but with nothing else to go on, I kept walking the tunnels.
    I was about to give up when I entered a section in which the heat and the pipes’ hissings began to lessen. That’s when I heard voices—two men just around the corner.
    “Been a while since you checked in,” a voice I didn’t recognize said.
    Then, Jackson’s voice: “I’ve made contact with one of them. Given my new social schedule, I can’t always respond to every drop at the snap of a finger.”
    “Who’s the contact?” the other man asked.
    “A girl. Or at least she once was. She’s still pretty new at this,” Jackson said.
    “What’s her name?”
    Half a second’s hesitation before Jackson answered: “Markie. No last name. I assume it’s an alias.”
    “Markie, huh?” the other man said. “Is she cute?”
    “If you like them young, sure,” Jackson said.
    “You’re not going native on us, are you?”
    “You really think I like drinking blood, McBride? It’s hard enough downing the stuff to stay alive. Even harder trying to look like I’m getting off on it when one of them is watching,” Jackson said. “And that’s not even getting into all . . . the other things they do for fun.”
    “I don’t mean to sound insensitive, but be a man and deal with it, Sergeant. You’re authorized to take any action to maintain your cover.”
    “Yeah, I know. Rape and murder included.”
    “The greater good sometimes means inflicting many smaller sins,” the man said, as if describing tomorrow’s weather.
    “They believe in God, you know. They think they’re all going to Hell because of what they are.”
    “Interesting.”
    “I just start to wonder if I’m going to go there too, because of all this,” Jackson said.
    “Says the guy who hacked his way out of Hadithah with a tomahawk. All of us in this business are Hell-bound. Look at the bright side, if you’re this worried about your immortal soul, you must be doing a good job playing your part.”
    “Barely. It sounds simple pretending that crosses hurt you, but my acting is slower than their reactions.”
    “Sure. I imagine that they can sense them, while you’ve got to see the cross or church or whatever to know you’re supposed to be in agony.”
    “I’m just a soldier. A clandestine-services guy would be better at this.”
    “If any had survived the process, they’d be in the slot. Since they didn’t, it’s all you, son.”
    “It’s not just acting the part,” Jackson said. “It’s being the part. The process wasn’t perfect. Turns out, their spit heals minor wounds. It’s why there aren’t a bunch of people running around campus with puncture marks on their necks.”
    “I’ll talk to Dr. March. Maybe she can do something to modify you. In the meantime,” McBride said, “tell me what you’ve learned. Anything about their numbers?”
    “Nothing firm,” Jackson said, “but there’s something you need to know. We’ve been thinking there’s only one type of these things, the kind I’m meant to mimic. But it sounds like there are other types, each with their own specialties and limits.”
    I continued listening, resisting my predator mind’s chanting voice as it told me to kill them.

 

    5
    Deal Making
     
    “So you’re basically 007 meets Famous Monsters of Hollywood ,” I said to Jackson the next night.
    We were sitting in our usual spot at Café Trios, our coffees untouched in front of us.
    He gave me a cocky smirk. “You must have been a writer before you went Nightfallen, little girl. That sounds like a cool idea for some trashy teen chick lit. Although, I guess if you wrote it like a thriller, it could make for a surreal Brad Thor.”
    The smirk disappeared when I told him I followed him the night before. “I know you’re not really one of us,” I whispered, despite our voices being lost in the mindless coed chatter surrounding us. “I