When the Wind Blows - James Patterson [15]
Chapter 14
THE FAMILIAR, WELCOMING SIGN loomed in swirling mists of bluish-gray fog: BEAR BLUFF NEXT EXIT. I signaled for a right turn, cruised down the off-ramp, and felt the usual two lumps in the road.
Then I zagged onto Fourth of July Mine & Run Road, a narrow two-laner that cuts through five and a half unmarked miles of woods until it reaches Bear Bluff. The Bluff is basically a drive-through town. It has a gas station, a Quik Stop, a video store, and me. We all close by dark. There’s a local saying—happiness is seeing Bear Bluff in your rearview mirror, but you better look damn quick.
I couldn’t wait to get home. I wanted to escape into blessed sleep. I felt distant, unreal. I’d also had too much to drink.
The unlit road looped around rocky outcroppings through the forest. Dense tree growth made reluctant way for the narrow, concrete thoroughfare, and for the dancing headlights of my Suburban.
I slowed the car, and concentrated on getting home in one piece.
Deer were bound to dash out at me, and I wasn’t in any shape for sudden-death decisions.
I saw something strange, a streaking white flash in the woods to my right.
I gently applied the brake. Slowed down some more. Peered hard into the shifting shadows of the woods.
I hoped I was wrong, but the white flash looked like a young girl running. A little girl had no business out here in the middle of the night.
I braked to a full stop. If the young girl was lost, I could certainly give her a ride to her home. I felt something was wrong, though. Maybe she was being chased by someone? Or she might be lost?
I left the engine running and got out of the Suburban. The ground fog lifted some, so I walked a few yards into the woodland. My skin was prickling with apprehension.
Stop.
Look.
Listen.
“Hello,” I called in a soft, tentative voice. “Who’s out there? I’m Frannie O’Neill. Dr. O’Neill. The vet from town?”
Then I saw the white streak again, this time darting from behind a tall, blue-green spruce. I scrutinized, looked closely, concentrated, squinted fiercely.
It wasayoung girl, yes!
She looked to be about eleven or twelve, with long blond hair and a loose-fitting dress. The dress was ripped and stained. Was she all right? She didn’t look it from where I stood.
She’d heard me, seen me, she must have. The girl started to run away. She seemed afraid, in some kind of trouble. I couldn’t see her very well. The fog had returned in ragged shreds.
“Wait!” I called out. “You shouldn’t be out here by yourself. What are you doing? Please, wait.”
She didn’t wait. She actually sped up, tripped over a log, went down on one knee. She shouted something that I couldn’t make out from where I was standing.
My heart started to beat faster. Something wasn’t right about this. I began to run toward her. I thought she might be hurt. Or maybe she was high on something? That made some sense to me. Maybe she was older than she looked from a distance. It was hard to tell through the scarves of fog.
There was only the dimmest light from a thin slice of moon, so it was hard to tell, but it looked to me that her proportions were a little odd. Her arms were sheathed with something.
I stopped running. Hard! My heart started to thunder. I could hear it.
It couldn’t be.
Of course it couldn’t be.
I almost screamed. I gasped for breath, steadied myself against a tall spruce.
The little girl appeared to have white and silver wings.
Chapter 15
WHAT I SAW was way beyond my abilities to imagine, beyond my comprehension, my system of belief, and maybe beyond my ability to communicate it right now. The little girl’s arms were folded back in a peculiar way, but when she lifted them—feathers fanned out.
It wasn’t humanly possible, but there she was—a girl with wings!
Spots jumped in front of my eyes. Colors, coruscating reds and yellows, danced. I was definitely a little high from the Crown Royal, but I wasn’t drunk. Or was I very drunk? Was I so freaked out by Frank McDonough’s death that I