The Creepers (Book 2): From the Past Read Online Free PDF Page A

above the fading flame of
life. His chest rattled.
     
    He watched Howard twitch in the throes
of some dream he’d never live to hear about. The years already etched across
his son’s young face had the tears flowing freely. He never wanted it to end
like this, but really, what parent did? The end was always imagined as some
drawn out, scripted thing, where all the ills of the past were resolved, and
everything was right as rain when the time came. A peaceful end on a bed with
all family present and accounted for.
     
    Doc Danielson knew better. Nothing got
out of the fall unscathed, not even the dead.
     
    He knelt beside his son. The boy was in
sore need of a shower. His hair matted to his sweating face. Even in the
darkness of the empty building, the heat still found a way. Doc Danielson
brushed the greasy strands from Howard’s face and kissed him gently on the
forehead. This was about as peaceful as it would get. He did not want to wake
the boy. It would be too hard on both of them. With one last guilt-inducing look,
Doc Danielson went to the roof for the final time.
    * * * * *
    The late afternoon sun cast swords of
light along the dark hallway. Dust motes spun about their chaotic paths. One of
the green runner lights flickered at a rapid pace. But all else was swept in a
somber shadow. All was quiet. So quiet that Howard thought the slight ringing
in his ears was ten times that.
     
    His father’s bed was neat and crisp on
the other side of the room. After the ordeal in the thunder dome, Howard
thought for sure his father would be resting well into the night. He slid off
the bed. Using a crumpled towel, he wiped the dampness from his brow. He shook
his head and had a sip of water from a weather-beaten plastic bottle. His body
was sore beyond reason. How was his father up already?
     
    The long dark hallways of the building
never bothered him before. He spent all of his life wandering in them with next
to no light. He knew what to fear in the dark. But the Creepers were nearly all
gone from the city. There was nothing left to fear. Howard couldn’t understand
why he suddenly felt terrified by the thick shadows.
     
    He went to the stairwell. The door
creaked open, echoing into the pit of blackness above and below. Several
tracking lights buzzed, but they barely illuminated anything beyond a few feet.
In fact they proceeded to drive the fear farther up his spine. He stood over
the railing, staring down into that black throat. Was that a face looking up at
him? Did he hear something shuffle below? He knew such notions were complete nonsense,
just his mind finding meaning, recognizing learned patterns, but that did not
erase his fear. He bolted for the openness of the roof as if there were
footsteps chasing him from below.
     
    The sunlight blinded him as he stepped
onto the roof. His father sat in his favorite chair, facing the setting sun.
The blanket was down around his ankles. Wires and pieces of technology lay
scattered about the small table. A pigeon perched bravely on the open laptop
screen.
     
    “Father, it’s getting late. You should
eat something.” Howard laid his hand on his father’s cold shoulder. Something
was wrong. He tried to shake his father but the man was stiff. Howard dared not
look at this face. He squeezed his eyes shut tight.
     
    No, no, no, he thought. He
had been preparing himself for the inevitability of his father’s death for some
time now. He’d lived the dreary day out countless times: how he would prepare
the body, what he would say. He imagined it all, planned it all, but now that
the hour was at hand, he broke apart. The burden had not been lifted. It was
only just beginning.
     
    Howard screamed. His voice carried
through the empty city and he paused for a second as if expecting an answer,
but only the pervasive silence remained. He couldn’t look at his father. Head
turned away, he managed to grab the blanket and cover him.
     
    The thought of the coming night, of