The Nightworld Read Online Free PDF

don’t think I’ll ever forget. It’s the kiss I never once dreamed I would get from Lara Hanover.

Chapter 6
    Dad’s sitting in the living room when I get home, obviously waiting for me. He looks worried.
    “Oh, come on, it’s not even close to curfew.” I flash my wrist at him like I’m wearing a watch.
    “Nick, thank God.” He stands and looks so relieved I feel guilty for giving him crap. But then I think about what might make him look that worried.
    “I only had one beer, Dad—”
    “It’s not that, Nick.” He walks over to me and grabs my arms. He just stares at me for a minute, and the look on his face is almost as bad as the look he had when he told me Mom was dead. “Listen. There are things happening. Things I didn’t want to have to tell you, but it looks like there’s no choice.”
    I drop onto the sofa. “What’s going on?”
    He looks at his hands for a long time. When he finally meets my eyes, his are wet. “We need to get out of here, Nick. I’m going to need your help, because I haven’t had much time to plan. But I have reason to believe that we’ll need to disappear in the next couple of weeks, maybe even sooner.”
    I’m trying to track what he’s saying, but it makes no sense. “Disappear?”
    He nods. “I know it’s a lot to take in—”
    “Does this have something to do with your gun?”
    He suddenly focuses all his attention on me. “You know about the . . . which gun?”
    “There’s more than one?” I am shocked.
    “Which gun did you find, Nick?”
    “The one in the china cabinet.”
    He nods. “Okay. So the other gun is in my nightstand drawer. They’re both loaded, Nick, so don’t play around. We’ll take them with us when we go, but I need to get some more supplies over the next few days. I’ve already got some . . .” He trails off, as though he’s trying to make a decision, and stands. “Follow me.”
    I watch him head into the kitchen and follow him down to the basement.
    I haven’t seen the place since they brought in all the equipment. Dad never lets me down there when he’s working, and even when he’s sleeping he keeps it locked. I never really cared; I saw his lab when he still worked in the lab downtown, and it was the most boring thing ever. Lots of measuring devices and blocky plastic machines that didn’t look like they did anything too exciting. Dad used to try to explain stuff to me, but I think he could tell I didn’t care.
    The basement lab looks about the same as the one in the city. Dad heads straight for a stainless steel cabinet that’s padlocked shut. He fishes a key hanging on a nylon cord out from under his shirt. “This is the key to that lock,” he says, pointing to the cabinet.
    There’s a label on the corner of the right cabinet door. The words OPTIMUS PRIME are printed out on it.
    “Transformers?” When Mom was still alive, one of the things she used to laugh about was how Dad and I loved to play Transformers. I always liked Optimus Prime the best—if there’s one thing more awesome than a giant robot who can turn into a car or whatever, it’s a giant robot who can turn into a sixteen-wheeler, right?
    “Hopefully.” Dad gives a weird laugh. “What’s in that cabinet is important. Remember that, Nick, if anything . . . happens.” He heads toward the basement closet. We used to keep board games and old sports equipment in it. When he opens the door, I can see it’s now filled with what look like survival supplies, top to bottom: dried fruit, foil packs of dehydrated meat, bottles and bottles and bottles of water. There’s some gear stuffed in there too, sleeping bags and what looks like a tent. “I’m going to go out tomorrow and get some more things we may need. While I’m gone, I want you in the house with the doors locked. I don’t want you to answer the door or the telephone. And I want you to keep one of the guns with you. I’ll show you the basics about how to shoot it before we go to