The Seventh Day Read Online Free PDF

window I can see
the entire street. There is no one on the roads. Many houses have no lights on at
all, like the people inside are hiding in the dark. My brain whispers that
maybe they’ve fled altogether.
    The setting sun makes me feel two
things—one is uneasy. I don't like the dark, not even on a good day. The
other is contradictory to the uneasiness. I’m excited because my dad should be
here any minute. He said tonight. It is tonight. The end of the light I so
badly need makes me hopeful he will be here soon.
    She stirs behind me, making me hate her
just a little bit more. She’s sleeping and I get to go watch the president’s
statement with the little girls, alone. No adult to tell me that the world will
find a way to fix itself.
    When I’m halfway down the stairs, I hear
something at the front door. It makes me pause, listening as it happens again.
It might be a knock but it’s too quiet, like the person knocking is hiding from
something. Furgus strolls down the hallway softly. He doesn't growl or make a
noise. He tilts his head to the side—confused maybe. My eyes find his
glossy-yellow stare in the dim light.
    My hair stands on end, but I slowly take a
stair at a time, listening for more of a clue as to who it is.
    “Julia!” I hear a hoarse whisper through
the doorframe, making me instantly freeze. Furgus growls softly, stepping
closer to the door. He never growls. I don't think I’ve ever even heard him
growl.
    We stand in the darkening hallway, both
frozen as we lose the light from outside. The twilight outside seems to be
fading fast into night.
    The knob moves, like in a scary movie, but
the whisper comes again, “Julia?”
    I hurry to the door, grabbing the bench and
dragging it to the front door. There is a small half-moon window in the top of
the door. I peer through it, down on the head of Mr. Swanson, Julia’s father. I
tap on the window but when he looks up, his eyes seem different. He sees me and smiles, but it’s the creepiest thing I have ever
seen. There’s blood on his neck and his eyes are red. “Is Julia here?” Furgus
growls again, pushing his massive body into mine.
    I shake my head. Something about the state
of him, the bloodshot of his eyes, and the way Furgus is growling, tells me to
lie.
    He scowls. “She left a message saying she
was coming here.”
    I shout at the window. “She went to
Lissie’s. They left here hours ago.”
    He cocks his head to the side. “Where’s
your mom?”
    “Upstairs.”
    He’s barely audible to me, making me wonder
if he can hear me. He smiles again. “Okay, well . . . night.”
    What a
freaking odd thing to say.
    I watch him stroll down my driveway and out onto the empty street. He
sways a little and then stops. Furgus growls, rubbing against
me again as if he’s pushing me away from the door.
    “Damn, Gus. He’s stopping!” I whisper but
don't know why Julia’s dad, Mr. Swanson, makes me scared. It’s something in his
stare and the odd way he’s standing at the end of my driveway.
    My breath makes a steam mark on the
half-moon window as my eyes refuse to leave the spot where his feet are
planted. Furgus whines, nudging me harder.
    But I can’t look way. Julia’s dad’s right
arm twitches. He drops to his knees as his body moves like my cat’s does when
he has a hairball. My grip on the windowsill actually hurts my fingers, but I
stop noticing the pain when I see something shoot from the front of his body.
He convulses as the red liquid leaves him. He shakes like he’s a one-man
earthquake and then falls over into the bloody vomit.
    My eyes are so wide they’re cramping and my
mouth feels like it’s stuffed with cotton balls. I don’t breathe or move or
think a single thing for the several seconds he is on the ground. I watch as
his feet twitch a little. His hands do too.
    Slowly his fingers tiptoe, up through the
bloody vomit and lay their palms on the ground. Like a robot he pushes himself
up, jerky and twitchy and stiff.