Inertia (Gravity Series, 3.5) (The Gravity Series) Read Online Free PDF Page A

pocket, she started jogging again.
    The bright, garish display of the Hush Lake Road gas station appeared up ahead. A devil leered at her from the sign, swinging his metal tail. His toothy grin reminded her of her Southern stalker.
    She saw a few cars in the parking lot, but none Ambrose would be caught dead in. She went in and a bell rang. It was bright— too bright—inside, the freezers humming. Untying her sweatshirt, she whipped it back on and rubbed her arms. Passing all the lame souvenirs—the whole Halloween thing had never revved her engine—she meandered around.
    The man behind the counter was watching her over his magazine. She got the feeling that he thought he was being sly and smooth, but it was obvious even through his thick glasses. She wanted to discretely flip him off, but brushed off the idea.
    She perused the stack of items and found a display of lighters. She picked out a red one and clicked the switch, watching it change colors.
    “What do you need a lighter for?” the clerk asked when she brought it to him.
    She didn’t really care to explain to him, but she did anyway in case he had a problem selling it a lighter to someone underage. “I’m going to a party. It’s for candles.”
    He was just as slimy as the guy who had asked her if she was hitching, with heavy sideburns and beady eyes. She realized that the running had settled her bladder and she had to pee badly, especially since beer would no doubt be involved at this party.
    “Does this place have a bathroom?”
    He handed her one with a wooden key chain, reading Hell in fat orange paint. She rushed around the building to the dark, clean bathroom.
    After she flushed, she fished the cigarette out of her pocket. A sudden attack of nerves hat hit her. The cigarette had been smashed and broken almost in half, leaving a pile of tobacco in her pocket. She tossed it in the toilet. Flicking the lighter, she watched the colors light up like a rainbow. Oh well, at least it looks cool.
    She dropped the keys back off with the spooky clerk, who had traded his tabloid for a Spiderman comic.
    “Is that your party bus?” he asked, gesturing out the front window. A blue van had rolled up. Sure enough, Jenna’s phone vibrated.
    Were here , read Ambrose’s text.
    She walked out of the gas station, listening to the bell ding. Some instinct made her turn around and look back at the clerk, as if she wanted to say something to him. Why was she so anxious?
    The dark blue van was obviously old, with rust around the tires and a crack running along the windshield. Who were these friends of his, hippies? Getting closer, she was shocked to see the history teacher from school, Mr. Warwick, standing beside it.
    Ambrose was sitting on the ledge of the open van door, hands between his knees, looking seasick. Warwick smirked like the Cheshire cat, wearing a polo shirt like he was trying to dress up like a bro.
    “What is he doing here?” Jenna asked Ambrose.
    “Wick knows where the place is. He’s going to buy us booze,” Ambrose said, his voice sounding strange and toneless. He moved backwards. “Sit next to me, okay? It’ll be all good. You’ll see.”
    “You’ll have a lot of fun, Jenna,” Warwick said, smiling knowingly. “I have a hook up with a guy that provides a buffet of entertainment. Pills that’ll make you fly.”
    She didn’t want to get into the musty old van, the dark opening looking so ominous. But Ambrose was there, waiting for her. And no one else knew where they were going.
    She could be free.
     

3. WARWICK
    MEAT. ALL SLABS of meat, waiting to hang from the butcher’s hooks. The thoughts raced across Warwick’s fevered mind, his only impression of his fellow teachers and students as he walked down Hawthorne’s hallowed main hall.
    Warwick passed students— the rotting carcasses, the meat , his thoughts insisted—who smiled, a few waving as they saw him. He was one of the most popular teachers in school and he knew it. He vaguely