The Last Horror Novel in the History of the World Read Online Free PDF Page A

open the cylinder of his revolver, lets the empty shell casings drop to the ground, begins to reload. “Manny’s got some Mexican word for it,” says Old Burt, “but to me, just seems like target practice.” Burt slaps the cylinder closed, shoots a few more dead kids.
    Mindy flinches with each shot, hollers, “Manny?”
    “Yup,” Manny says. He is handing his shotgun to Tessa.
    “What the hell is this?”
    Tessa shoots a boy in the face, screams, “Fun as shit, is what,” then, “Burt, give her your gun.”
    Burt shrugs, holds the butt of his .38 at her.
    Mindy takes it. Shoots a kid in the throat, which blows open, bits of his larynx drape from the wound drenched in black blood that glistens in the moonlight. “I don’t know,” she says, “feels wrong,” says Mindy as she watches the bleeding boy pass her.
    Mindy hands the gun back to Burt. “Where are they going?” Mindy asks. She watches the backs of them, their creepy progression in the shadowy night, the woman in white now nearly out of view.
    “Don’t know,” says Tyler. “Should we follow ’em?”
    Old Burt says, “Might as well,” then, “almost out of bullets anyhow.”
    The shots cease as the five walk along with the meandering children, following the woman in white as she makes her way from Scrape and out toward the bay.
    Through slim fields of johnson grass and sand, they move on in the moonlight, quiet except for their walking. Their shadows hover dark beneath them.
    When they reach the bay, the woman in white leads the children into the water.
    The water is up to her knees. The water is up to her waist. The water is up to her neck. The water is over her head.
    It doesn’t take as long for the children to disappear.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
      
     
       
     
     
     
     
     
     

    “Look at this fucking mess,” Blue says. He reaches down into the pile of bottles and lifts out a green one. “I ain’t never had one of these,” he says. He tries to twist the top off, but it won’t turn. It hurts his hand. He drops it. “Some other time,” he says, and he reaches for a can of Miller Lite, cracks it open, and suds foam from the mouth of it. He blows the froth to the floor, slurps his beer.
    Tim is behind the counter finding cigarettes. Rob is eating chips he pilfered from a rack.
    “Where’s Tessa, you think?” Blue asks.
    They go into the back, but it’s vacant.
    They return to the front of the store, eat, drink look at nudie mags, smoke, linger.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
      
     
       
     
     
     
     
     
     

    Teddy and Scarlett both cum again.
    “Sh,” says Scarlett. “The shots have stopped.”
    Teddy starts snoring.
    Scarlett drops off in the music of it.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
      
     
       
     
     
     
     
     
     

    It takes half an hour for all the children to follow the woman in white out into the water. The moon shines lively on the bay, the tossing water chirping fits of light off its many crests and ebbs.
    The air is salty, fresh, alive. Mindy has her shoes off, is burying her feet in the sand. Tessa is ankle-deep in the water, petting the heads of the dead children who pass her. Burt, Tyler and Manny are waiting until they can only see the backs of the children’s heads to fire.
    Manny keeps missing.
    “That’s why y’all lost the Alamo,” says Old Burt.
    “We didn’t lose the Alamo,” says Manny.
    “Then why you speaking English?” asks Old Burt.
    Tyler stands up. “I’m hungry,” he says.
    “Me too,” says Mindy.
    Tessa looks up. “Let’s go back to the store,” she says.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
      
     
       
     
     
     
     
     
     

    “Well, God damn,” Tessa says when she sees Blue Parson slunk down in a pile of empty cans, dozing.
    The noise wakes Blue, he shakes his head, blinks his eyes. “Hey, hey,” he says, lifts the can of High Gravity in his hand to his lips, sips at it.
    “You drunk?” Tessa asks.
    “Not