The Immortal Harvest Read Online Free PDF Page A

herself.
    She shook herself from the thoughts and looked around her to see if they were safe. The distinctive sound of rhythmic pulsing music and the vulgar buzzing, flashing neon signs alerted her to the fact that she had run into the red light district. She jumped when she heard the voice above her.
    “Listen skank this is my territory. Fuck off and go back where you came from!”
    Sylvan saw the shabby clothes, the plastered makeup on the sad visage of the woman who stood above her. She reminded Sylvan of a caricature, a living cliché.
    The woman slowly dragged on the remains of a discarded cigarette and exhaled the smoke like some transvestite dragon. Her eyes glared like a mad woman, bloodshot and glazed.
    She watched with a feeling of disgust as the woman swiped her arm across her mucus covered nose. It was then that she noticed that the vile woman’s eel-like arms were covered in tattoos and sores. Sylvan felt sickened, sad and scared at the same time.
    Her voice crackled as she attempted to speak. She cleared her throat and then spoke again, this time with more confidence; as if she knew instinctively that she would need to pretend that she belonged to this hellish world.
    “You fuck off! We have nowhere to go…we…”
    To her ears, the tone of her voice was deadpan. She broke into tears and sobbed violently when the truth of the statement slammed into her subconscious.
    “Well ya can’t stay here; dontcha have a shelter or sumfin’ to go to?”
    The woman moved her face in closer to Sylvan. Her putrid breath and traces of stray spittle threatened to smother her. Sylvan moved her head back to escape the intrusion.
    Something inside her snapped when she realised the proximity that the woman was to her and her sleeping child. She stood and shook her fist in the hooker’s face.
    “Get the fuck out of my face and get away from my son!”
    The woman stepped back abruptly. Her demeanour changing the instant that Sylvan had mentioned a child. Her voice softened along with the brass battered features of her face.
    She threw the remnants of her cigarette onto the ground and stepped on the glowing ash. She exhaled a long lungful of smoke before she spoke.
    “Ooh a child. I didn’t see her lying there. What’s her name?”
    Sylvan watched as the woman moved back in to get a better look at Justen who had now awoken and sat trembling with the blanket pulled up around his neck.
    Sylvan sat back down and put a protective arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer to her body. She used her other hand to gently stroke his hair. She spoke quietly but defensively.
    “ His name is Justen. He is my son.”
    The woman crouched down in front of the child. She smiled as she looked into the frightened eyes. She slowly held out her bony hand as an invitation.
    “Ooh a little boy! Hello Justen, my name is Crystal, Crystal Meth. You’re a cutie aint ya?”
    She could feel Justen bury his head into her shoulder as he shielded his eyes from the sight of the scary woman who was trying to touch him with her scabby, filthy hands. She knew how he felt. The sight of Crystal’s dirty and broken nails sent a shudder down her spine. Protectively, she pulled him closer.
    “He doesn’t like strangers,” Sylvan said abruptly and then softened when she saw the distraught look on the woman’s face.
    Oh well, I’m not in a position to make any more enemies , she thought as she extended her hand.
    “My name is Sylvan Peters; it’s nice to meet you Crystal Meth.”
    “Please just call me Crystal.”
    The woman wiped her hand on her filthy skirt and gently shook Sylvan’s hand. She stood and looked around nervously and ran her shattered talons down the length of her arm causing some of the scabs to be dislodged. Sylvan noticed how she self consciously tried to hide the blood smeared arm from her.
    “Well, Sylvan, we had better get you away from here. There’s been some strange shit going on down here lately, you’d better stay with