Running with the Demon Read Online Free PDF Page A

strike,” he said. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”
    She nodded without looking up. “Lunch will be on the table at noon if you want it.”
    He studied her a moment longer, then went down the hall and out the front door into the summer heat.
    It was another hour before Nest appeared in the kitchen. She stretched and yawned as she entered and helped herself to the orange juice. Her grandmother was still sitting at the kitchen table, smoking and drinking and reading her magazine. She looked up as Nest appeared and gave her a wan smile. “Good morning, Nest.”
    “Morning, Gran,” Nest replied. She took out the bread and stuck a couple of slices in the toaster. Thinking of Bennett Scott, she stood at the counter and rolled her shoulders inside her sleep shirt to relieve the lingering ache in her muscles. “Grandpa around?”
    Her grandmother put down the magazine. “He’s gone out. But he wants to talk with you. He says you went into the park last night.”
    Nest hunched her shoulders one final time, then slouched against the counter, her eyes on the toaster. “Yep, he’s right. I did.”
    “What happened?”
    “Same as usual. The feeders got Bennett Scott this time.” She told her grandmother what had happened. “I walked her tothe front door and handed her over to Jared. You should have seen his face. He was so scared. He’d looked everywhere for her. He was about to call the police. His mom still wasn’t home. She’s a dead loss, Gran. Can’t we do something about her? It isn’t fair the way she saddles Jared with all the responsibility. Did you know he has to make all the meals for those kids—or almost all? He has to be there for them after school. He has to do everything!”
    Her grandmother took a deep drag on her cigarette. A cloud of smoke enveloped her. “I’ll have a talk with Mildred Walker. She’s involved with the social-services people. Maybe one of them will drop by for a chat with Enid. That woman checks her brains at the door every time a man walks in. She’s a sorry excuse for a mother, but those kids are stuck with her.”
    “Bennett’s scared of George Paulsen, too. Next thing, he’ll be living there.”
    Her grandmother nodded. “Well, George is good at showing up where there’s a free ride.” Her eyes shifted to find Nest’s, and her small body bent forward over the table. “Sit with me a moment. Bring your toast.”
    Nest gathered up her toast and juice and sat down. She lathered on some raspberry spread and took a bite. “Good.”
    “What are you going to tell your grandfather when he asks you what you were doing in the park?”
    Nest shrugged, tossing back her dark hair. “Same as always. I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep, so I decided to go for a run. I tucked the pillows under the covers so he wouldn’t worry.”
    Her grandmother nodded. “Good enough, I expect. I told him to leave you alone. But he worries about you. He can’t stop thinking about your mother. He thinks you’ll end up the same way.”
    They stared at each other in silence. They had been over this ground before, many times. Caitlin Freemark, Nest’s mother, had fallen from the cliffs three months after Nest was born. She had been walking in the park at night. Her state of mind had been uncertain for some time; she had beena very fragile and mercurial young woman. Nest’s birth and the disappearance of the father had left her deeply troubled. There was speculation that she might have committed suicide. No one had ever been able to determine if she had, but the rumors persisted.
    “I’m not my mother,” Nest said quietly.
    “No, you’re not,” her grandmother agreed. There was a distant, haunted look in her sharp, old bird’s eyes, as if she had suddenly remembered something best left forgotten. Her hands fluttered about her drink.
    “Grandpa doesn’t understand, does he?”
    “He doesn’t try.”
    “Do you still talk to him about the feeders, Gran?”
    “He thinks I’m