The Dead Parade Read Online Free PDF Page A

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    With her shoes skimming the floor, Pat made for the door. Then she hesitated. “Oh, by the way. I met your son earlier. James, is it? He seems very nice.”
    “ Yes,” Anne said. “He is. James is as nice as they come.”
    “ Well dressed too.” Patricia smiled, seemly lost in thought.
    Anne wondered if the nurse had developed a bit of a crush. It was possible. Lots of women found James attractive. Girls had been chasing him around since he was eight years old.
    “ Well,” Anne said. “I suppose he is well dressed.”
    Patricia laughed lightly and showed her dimples. They made her look younger, and perhaps, they almost made her look pretty. “I’ll see you in a moment Mrs. McGee. I won’t be long.”
    “ That’s fine. Take your time, dear.”
    Patricia left the room and Anne stood up. She placed her rosary on the chair and opened the window. She stood beside the bed and took Mathew’s small fingers in her hand. His skin felt cold and thin. Shallow breathing came from his open lips in slow moving gasps. The bandages around his head needed to be changed once more; his blood and sweat had soaked through.
    Anne wondered if Mathew would ever laugh again, or smile again, or be a happy little boy again. She expected that he would, trusting that when this terrible tragedy had passed him by he’d be able to pick up the pieces of his life and continue on without too much sorrow. She knew it would be hard. No child should lose both mother and father in a single stroke. No child should endure such pain.
    She squeezed Mathew’s hand and the boy opened his eyes unexpectedly. His fingers wrapped around hers.
    “ Run James,” he managed to say with a dry voice. Then he fell silent and closed his eyes.
    Anne stood above the child, voiceless and distressed. She watched his shallow breathing and waited for him to speak again. But Mathew did not speak. He didn’t budge. He lay unmoving, laboring shallow breaths as if nothing had happened. He looked terrible, like the saddest child in the world.
     
     
    PART TWO:
    RUNNING WITH THE DEVIL
     
    12
     
    After the gun went off Johnny’s head fell back. His suddenly darkened eyes faced the ceiling. A cloud of smoke puffed through the bubbling hole in the back of his skull, and rose up through his nose and mouth. His body slouched; his knees knocked together. Then Johnny’s balance shifted and his shoulders fell forward. His hand slid down his chest and the gun slipped from his fingers. As the gun slapped the floor Johnny’s head slumped and fell to one side. A stream of blood, teeth, and charred tongue, ran over his gums and down his chin. His legs slid apart and his body leaned forward. When he fell, his body hit the floor with a wet, grim thud.
    Then a shadow shifted; the hardwood creaked.
    James held his breath.
    The shadow, James could clearly see, was the size of a small tombstone. It shaped like some type of animal, a raccoon maybe. James questioned how this was possible. He wondered if was imagining things, if his eyes were playing tricks. Was stress causing him to hallucinate?
    He saw it again, and this time there was no denying it. There was a shadow on the floor and it was moving. But how could this be? James was alone in the ice-cold room, with Johnny—who lay dead and bleeding on the floor.
     
     
    13
     
    James got up from the couch and walked towards the door. He moved slowly. The shadow followed so he walked faster. Tiny footsteps could be heard beneath the sound of his own. Part of him wanted to run. Another part wanted to wave his hands in the air the way a child does when a wasp gets close. Things felt that way now––like a wasp was buzzing, or ten wasps, or an entire hive had come together in battle. And Johnny’s words, which sounded crazy less than five minutes earlier, began haunting him.
    Sorry man , Johnny had said. I’m sorry it’s you. But if I don’t pass it on, it’ll be with me forever .
    What the hell did that mean? Did Johnny pass