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

remembered the confirmation and accomplished feeling of being accepted that he had sought his whole life.
    Of course, then he’d started attending the meetings. All that had dissolved, in favor of the deep need that now ached inside him.
    All they saw was smiling Mr. Warwick. Inside his brain, his thoughts churned. He had dabbled in acting until sheer boredom forced him out of community theater, and he’s always been able to fool those around him.
    “Hey, Warwick, help us settle this disagreement,” the journalism teacher, Mr. Brown, said. He and another teacher were standing casually against the wall. He didn’t want to get pulled into the conversation, but he couldn’t think up a quick escape.
    “We were having a discussion about the Oxford comma,” Brown explained.
    “Grammar isn’t really my thing,” Warwick said, grimacing.
    “I know, but do us a favor and lend us your ear.”
    The female teacher, whose name he couldn’t care to remember, wouldn’t stop yammering. God, why won’t she shut up? He stretched his fingers as his hand cramped. He needed to write. He needed to release the thoughts.
    He pictured a furnace in an old cartoon reaching maximum pressure, the indicator leaping past the green, deep into the red. He was going to explode. And yet she kept nattering on about commas and participles.
    “Sorry, guys, I have some papers I need to grade.” He dodged out of the conversation before they could protest, although he caught the woman frowning at him. Like she saw underneath for a second. But that was impossible. He was too good. At least, he tried to tell himself that.
    Rushing back to his classroom, he slipped inside and locked the door, grateful that he had a free period. He even drew the blinds over the classroom window—better to discourage little faces from peering in—and flipped off the harsh light. He sat down at his desk to write and the cramp began to loosen as the letters began.
    ###
    The rain was relentless, a leaking bag in the sky. Warwick sat in the idling blue van, waiting. The thing must not have been used for a while before its last journey. It was shuddering like mad and the gears beneath the hood ground noisily. It had been kept off to the side on the grounds of the orphanage under a tarp, so it wasn’t a huge surprise. He just hoped it didn’t take a shit on him at this most important of times. One girl down, six to go.
    The van stunk of bleach, making him roll down the window an inch. They’d gone overboard in scrubbing away all the evidence of the Reed girl.
    The noises of the engine, grinding and howling like demons, made him nervous. They disturbed the odd but comforting thrum in his head. He popped a handful of aspirin, not counting how many, and chewed them up, swallowing them dry.
    The wipers scraped the grimy windshield. On the sidewalk across the street, he watched as a little girl in a blue raincoat arrived, standing alone to wait for the bus.
    Her mother is at work. No one is waiting for her. He knows all of this because her kidnapping has been preplanned, as scheduled as a meeting. He was glad he knew the ins and outs—it would make this first time alone easier. He wiped the sweat out of his mustache.
    Alyssa shifted on the sidewalk. He drove the van up beside her and rolled down the window. Her eyes went wide. “I’m not supposed to talk to strangers,” said her small voice.
    “Well, you can’t get any stranger than me,” he said, and yanked her into the van before she could scream.
    ###
    On the drive back to the high school, he was suddenly thankful for the cacophony produced by the engine. The girl hadn’t stopped squealing until he’d made her drink a good swig of Benadryl.
    Phillip was waiting over by one of the fire exits. Two of his goons stood beside him. Warwick parked the van, and they opened the back doors, transporting his now sleeping cargo out of the van and into the school. Warwick got out of the van, too, his trench coat buttoned up