The Howling Man Read Online Free PDF Page B

fell from the ceiling into his lap and he held it to his face before it disappeared.
    Presently the room was full of birds, all fluttering their wings and crying, crying to Robert. He cried, too, but softly.
    He pulled his arms and legs closer to him and wrenched at the blond curls that fell across his eyes. The birds flew at him and around him and then their wings started to fall off. And as they did, the brown liquid he remembered soaked into all the feathers. Some of it got on Robert and when it did, he cried aloud and shut his eyes.
    Then the room seemed empty. There were no birds. Just a puppy. A little dog with its belly laid open, crawling up to Robert in a wake of spilled entrails, looking into his eyes.
    Robert fell to the floor and rolled over several times, his body quivering, flecks of saliva streaming from his lips.
    "Edna, Edna, don't go away."
    The puppy tried to walk further but could not. Its round low body twitched like Robert's, and it made snuffling noises.
    Robert crawled to a corner.
    "Edna, please. It wasn't me, it wasn't, really .
    And then a cloud of blackness covered Robert's mind, and he dropped his head on his breast.
    When he awakened he was in bed and Drake was standing over him, shaking his shoulders.
    "Bobbie, what is it?"
    "I don't know. All of sudden I saw Margaret and Edna and all the birds. They were mad, Drake. They were mad!"
    The man stroked Robert's forehead gently.
    "It's all right. You don't have to be afraid now. You just had a bad nightmare, that's all. I found you laying on the floor.
    "It seemed very real this time."
    "I know. They sometimes do. Why, I could hear you crying all the way down the hall!"
    "She didn't hear me, did she?"
    "No, she didn't hear you."
    Then Robert saw the heavy brown bag. "Drake, why have you got that suitcase?"
    The man coughed and tried to kick the bag underneath the bed. "It's nothing. Just some equipment for the yard."
    "No, no it isn't, Drake. I can tell. You're going away!"
    "It's equipment for the yard, I tell you."
    "Please don't go away, Drake. Please don't. Please Don't."
    The man tightened his fists and coughed again.
    "Now you look, Bobbie. I've just got to go away for a little trip, and I'll be back before you know it. And maybe then we can go off somewhere together. I'm going to find out about it, but you musn't say a word to your mother. Hear?"
    Robert looked up, confused. Something fluttered. He could see it, from the corner of his eye.
    The man was dirty and he smelled of alcohol, but it made Robert feel good when he touched him.
    "Really? You mean us? "
    "Bobbie. You've got to tell me something first. Do you love your mother?"
    He didn't have to think about it. "No, she always kills things, and always hurts things. I don't love her."
    The man spoke under his breath. "I've wanted to do this for a long time."
    Something crawled in a corner. Robert could almost see it. "Drake," he said, "have you ever killed anything?"
    Perspiration stood out on the man's forehead. He answered as if he had not heard.
    "Only once, Bobbie. Only once did I kill."
    "What was it? An animal?"
    "No. It was worse, Bobbie. I killed a human spirit--a soul."
    "Mother does it all the time!"
    "I know. There's been a lot of death in this house ... But here now, lad, are you over your nightmare?"
    Robert tried not to look up.
    "Are we really going away when you get back? Away from Mother and this place, just you and me, Drake? Promise me?"
    "Yes, boy. Yes, we are!"
    The man took Robert's hand in his and held it hard.
    "Now you see here. If she learns of this there'll be a lot of trouble. Something might go wrong. So, whatever you do, don't you let on to her what's happened. I'll see the authorities and tell them everything and you'll get out of here. And we'll be free, you and me, boy!"
    Robert didn't say anything. He was looking at a corner.
    "Bobbie, you're not old enough yet to know everything about your mother. She wasn't always like she is now. And I wasn't, either.