THREE DAYS to DIE Read Online Free PDF Page A

mustard, and took a generous bite.
    ---
          A rustle in the bushes startled him. He stood and turned toward the sound, swallowing his mouthful whole. Unnerved, he pushed some leaves aside and was surprised to see a boy kneeling in the dirt.
          Aaron was still in shock; he wasn't sure where he was or what he was doing there. He tried to crawl away, but a granite wall blocked his escape. Michael caught him by the arm, easily overpowering him.
          "Easy there, cowboy," Michael said, lifting Aaron to his feet. "Aren't we a little old for hide-and-seek?"
          Aaron was unable to find the humor in that. His mouth and chin were caked with blood, as were the strings of brown hair falling over his eyes. His sweatshirt and jeans were filthy and torn, revealing numerous cuts and bruises. He glanced around wildly, breathing rapidly through his nostrils. A thread of blood flowed from a purple gash across his left cheek bone, and he was very cold.
          Michael eased his grip slightly. He could smell sweat, and fear. "What in God's name happened to you?" he said. "You're a mess ... your cheek, it's –"
          Aaron turned away and winced in pain as he wiped his face on the sleeve of his sweatshirt, leaving a dark red streak on the gray fabric.
          Michael was genuinely concerned for the boy. "Here," he said, gesturing toward the bench. "Sit down for a minute ... It's okay."
          Aaron looked around, nervous and frightened, shivering in the icy wind.
          Michael saw him glance at his pretzel and said, "You must be starving. Let me get you something to eat. You want a hot dog?"
          Aaron didn't answer, but his face said I'd die for a hot dog .
          Michael helped him to the bench, then removed his jacket and draped it over the boy's shoulders. "Stay right here and don't move," he said. "I'll be back in a flash."
          Aaron pulled Michael's jacket in close around him. The bizarre incident in the cannery occurred to him now as a strange, aching nightmare, but in his gut he knew there really was someone after him. He continued to scan the perimeter of the park as he sat alone on the cold, stone bench.
    ---
          Michael returned carrying a steaming hot dog that overflowed with ketchup, mustard and pickle relish. He took a seat next to Aaron and handed it to him.
          "My name's Michael," he said, extending his hand.
          Aaron cleared his throat and managed a response. "I'm Aaron," he said, feeling as if someone else had spoken for him. He shook Michael's hand with a grip that was limp and clammy.
          Like a cold, dead fish , Michael thought, discreetly wiping his palm on his pants. It was obvious that the boy had been seriously traumatized.
          "I know you're in some kind of trouble, Aaron," he said. "We should give your parents a call."
          " No! " Aaron said quickly. He wasn't ready for that yet, and besides, Tom might be the one to answer. "My stepdad and I had a fight, okay? And they're not my parents. I mean my mother is – but my real dad died."
          Michael knew there was a lot more to the story, but he took Aaron's hint and changed the subject.
          "You live around here?" he asked.
          Aaron thought for a moment then said honestly, "I'm not sure." Then he picked up the hot dog and bit off as big a bite as the pain in his face would allow, sending the classic American condiments squishing out from the corners of his mouth.
          Michael looked over toward his apartment building. At street level, assorted signs identified small businesses that really had no business being in business. One of them had a small, green neon sign that read SALLY'S DINER.
          "See that diner over there?" he asked, pointing.
          Aaron followed his gaze and nodded.
          "I live at the top of that building," Michael said. "Have you ever eaten there? At Sally's, I mean?"