Raincheck Read Online Free PDF Page A

is plunging after us, and the whole wild night is in pursuit of us; but, so far we are pursued by nothing else’,” Rodney quoted Dickens to himself as he flew.
     

     

     
    In the end, it hadn’t proven to be as difficult as he’d thought it would be. People so seldom looked up, and if they heard the sibilant brush of his wings in passing, he had moved on before anyone could pinpoint the sound. The closest he’d come to being seen was when David had arrived at his destination. Rodney was just landing on the roof of the building where the cab had stopped; David was leaning in the window to pay the driver. When he straightened and began walking toward the entrance, he inexplicably looked up at the sky. Rodney had been forced to flatten himself against a ledge and try to look like part of the guttering. He’d released a sigh of relief when David gave a little shrug and went inside.
     
    The ensuing wait had proven boring and, despite the fact that Rodney was good at waiting, he’d been tempted to leave after a few hours. At least on his own rooftop, he had his things: books to read, his little treasures to take out and admire. He liked to make up stories about them—the playbill, the crystal, a series of adventures for the people who lived in the snow globe. He sometimes pictured himself as an author with his book of stories displayed in the window of the little bookstore down the street from the Freemont. It was merely another one of his daydreams. Tonight, however, his usual imaginings failed to engage him. It was as though the pathway to his private world was overgrown and choked with weeds. Worse, though he knew he held the key to the locked garden door, tonight it scarcely seemed worth the effort.
     
    You’re just feeling your age.
     
    There hadn’t been much he could argue in that, and it struck him that it was as good a reason as any for not going back to the perch one day. It was a sobering thought.
     
    When David finally came out of the building, it was with the jaunty step of a man who was very pleased with his world, and Rodney assumed that the meeting had gone well. The streets were empty. David paused only long enough to look around briefly before walking up several blocks toward a busier intersection, where he obviously hoped to catch a cab. Rodney ghosted silently though the air behind him, leap-frogging from one building to another the way he sometimes did when he was following David on an evening run. He could have just gone back to the Freemont, but it pleased him to see David so happy. He enjoyed the easy gait with which David moved and the slightly off-key whistling that drifted up to his ears. He hoped this meant that David had a plan for his future that didn’t mean trying to please his father anymore.
     
    The attack occurred so swiftly, Rodney almost didn’t see it himself. A shadow detached itself from the shelter of an alley and swung down something hard against David’s back and shoulders. David dropped with a grunt of pain and lay sprawled facedown on the sidewalk. The man standing over him grabbed him by the ankles and hauled him back into the darkness of the alley.
     
    Rodney dived. He folded up his wings and plummeted down to the street level, his eyes fixed on the spot where David had disappeared. He only pulled up at the last second to swing his feet forward and open his wings to break his momentum. He still landed hard, touching down with both feet and hands in a half-crouching position. He stood slowly, his wings outstretched in agitation, the tips brushing the walls of the alley on either side. His tail arched up over his shoulder, the tip quivering with the need to strike.
     
    He’d never been so angry in his entire life.
     
    The man who’d attacked David was kneeling beside him, rifling though his pockets, and shoving whatever he grabbed into his own. He’d paused just long enough to flip open David’s wallet and tip his head to peer at the contents in the dim light