Valley of the Shadow Read Online Free PDF Page A

chest. It had healed over but was still tender. The first bullet had entered his upper left pectoral, cracking a rib and piercing his lung. The second bullet had only grazed the back of his left shoulder. He must’ve ducked or slumped forward. Had the second shot also struck his chest, he’d most certainly not be standing here now.
        It was all just dumb luck. Whoever had shot them had not stuck around to make sure they finished the job. Maybe they were sloppy. Maybe someone had scared them off. But Devon couldn’t recall who the shooter was or anything else of that night prior to being shot. And the things he did recall, he desperately wished he could forget.
        But that part haunted his dreams. The storm. The gray, faceless monsters reaching out grotesque, spidery hands. He could see Terrell’s face, flushed with a purple tinge, screaming for him as the creature pulled him out of the store. He could feel the alien’s elongated fingers tightening around his throat.
        And then there were the hallucinations. The tall, thin guy with pasty skin and yellow eyes glaring out from under stringy black hair. Devon would see him every so often in a hallway or the cafeteria. There one moment. Gone the next.
        He woke up most nights drenched with sweat, heart pounding, feeling as if someone were choking him. And he would hear voices in the dark whispering words he couldn’t quite make out. He didn’t know if they were real or just his imagination. But one thing he did know…
        They weren’t going to leave him alone.
        He fell in line for breakfast. Head down, eyes forward. Just stay out of trouble. Stay clear of any scuffles. Don’t look anyone in the eyes.
        He had no one from his “community organization” inside. There was no help, no support. Nothing.
        He was completely alone.
        After breakfast, Devon went to the common area. He still had an hour before classes started. A dozen or so other kids, mostly younger, sat at tables, reading or talking or trying to play checkers.
        “Marshall, you got a visitor.”
        Devon heard the voice, but his eyes remained unfocused on the room. He’d taken a seat apart from everyone else and fallen into a half-dazed funk. He was finding it harder to concentrate lately.
        “Hey, Marshall, you hear me?”
        The staff guard was large, round, and dark. He took a few menacing steps toward Devon and waved him over.
        Devon got up. The guard led him to the secure visitors’ room. Dismal gray walls and scuffed beige tiles. A long countertop and a sheet of thick glass split the cramped room in half with video cameras on both sides. A speaker system allowed kids to talk with their POs or lawyers. Or on rare occasions, their parents.
        A man in a suit was waiting for him on the other side of the glass. Some white guy. His head was down, like he was reading something.
        Devon sat down, thinking it might be the public defender or his probation officer. Then the guy looked up.
        Devon stiffened and swore.
        The man held up his hands. “Whoa . . . Devon, it—it’s all right. It’s me.” He spoke excitedly. “Do you recognize me?”
        Devon slid his chair back a few feet. “Who are you?”
        “It’s all right; it’s all right.” The guy leaned forward. “It’s me, Conner. Conner Hayden.”
        Devon shook his head. He couldn’t believe that he was seeing this face. “I don’t . . . I don’t believe you.”
        “It’s crazy, I know. But it was real. That night. The night you got shot. Everything you experienced. It was all real.”
        “I don’t want to talk to you.”
        “Listen to me.” The guy wouldn’t quit. “Just listen to me. I was having a heart attack that night. At the same time that you were shot. We were both dying at the same time. We both had the same experience. But we didn’t know what was