Read Online Run the Day by Matthew C. Davis - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Matthew C. Davis
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with Grannok." I had already begun the hobbling march back to the car. There was too much to do.
"We never saw anyone else," Hack said.
I shrugged, wishing I had brought some aspirin when we left the house. I should have known better - it was becoming a growing trend for me to get stomped on during an outing. Grannok's ally, whatever the hell it was, must have surfaced with the book again. Maybe it found someone to pull off the ritual that Grannok had failed. I needed to find that freak, and get the book. And to find it, I needed to know where it was. Looks like I had no choice, I had to go see Devlin, his business be damned. He kept detailed records of every single Other that lived within his domain, paranoid but smart. I'd been trying to talk him into letting me see them for years.
And he knew Abel Grannok.
"You'd remember this guy if you saw him, trust me. We have to go to the Red House; I don't care what Devlin's doing, I need to see him," I said.
We got to Swift's car and within minutes we were back on the freeway heading for Hanford. Something else about the scene I witnessed kept nagging at me, though. Something the thing had mentioned. It sounded like it was scared of it, and Grannok looked like he damn near dumped in his pants when he heard it.
"Hey Hack, what the hell is a God-Spear?" I got a weird sidelong look from Swift as he drove and a grunt from Hack in the back seat.
"God-Spear? Not ringing a bell, why do you ask?"
"Just curious. Mostly," I said and leaned back in my seat.
I made a practice of knowing about the things that scare the scary types and Grannok and his buddy sounded pretty freaked out that the God-Spear, whatever it was, was approaching. It was always good to know there was something out there that gave the bogeymen a fright, but sometimes that just meant an even worse bogeyman. Either way, this God-Spear thing seemed worth looking into.
We cut off the freeway and hooked onto a road that carried us a few blocks north of Downtown, into one of the oldest neighborhoods in the city. Some of the houses here had stood for over a hundred years, and the sometimes eclectic mix of architecture made for interesting scenery. Adobe haciendas stood next door to tall white Victorians, old growth trees and expensively manicured flower gardens dominated the yards. The neighborhood also happened to be home to some of the oldest money in Hanford, so it made sense Devlin had made his base here.
"Maybe I should go in by myself, not sure how Devlin would react to me coming in with muscle," I said as we pulled up to the curb outside the Red House, "He can be a little…unpredictable."
"Muscle?" Hack asked.
"I saw what you did to those pigs. That was nuts. Wait here. If I'm not back in ten minutes, blow the place up and give me a good eulogy," I said and got out of the car. Swift killed the engine as I walked up the winding cement path that led to the steps of the Red House.
It was built along the same lines as the Bastille, two daunting stories of red brick that looked more like a small fortress than a house, fitting for someone who fancied themselves the lord of the land. When it was first built over a hundred years ago, it was one of the first, and most notorious, mental hospitals in California. To add to the somewhat sinister aura, it specialized in child cases. It was shut down shortly after the Second World War when reports of the horrors that went on inside began to gain public attention. It stayed vacant for years, until Devlin Desmond purchased it and renovated it into his humble abode.
I mounted the steps and went up to the heavy oak doors, there were stained glass windows set into them, fancifully crafted stars in white and blue and yellow. I knocked a few times and waited. After a moment, a shape passed behind the glass and opened one of the doors. She wore a set of nurse's scrubs printed with a pattern of flowers, and she smelled like sunshine. I can't be certain, I was too enraptured by
"We never saw anyone else," Hack said.
I shrugged, wishing I had brought some aspirin when we left the house. I should have known better - it was becoming a growing trend for me to get stomped on during an outing. Grannok's ally, whatever the hell it was, must have surfaced with the book again. Maybe it found someone to pull off the ritual that Grannok had failed. I needed to find that freak, and get the book. And to find it, I needed to know where it was. Looks like I had no choice, I had to go see Devlin, his business be damned. He kept detailed records of every single Other that lived within his domain, paranoid but smart. I'd been trying to talk him into letting me see them for years.
And he knew Abel Grannok.
"You'd remember this guy if you saw him, trust me. We have to go to the Red House; I don't care what Devlin's doing, I need to see him," I said.
We got to Swift's car and within minutes we were back on the freeway heading for Hanford. Something else about the scene I witnessed kept nagging at me, though. Something the thing had mentioned. It sounded like it was scared of it, and Grannok looked like he damn near dumped in his pants when he heard it.
"Hey Hack, what the hell is a God-Spear?" I got a weird sidelong look from Swift as he drove and a grunt from Hack in the back seat.
"God-Spear? Not ringing a bell, why do you ask?"
"Just curious. Mostly," I said and leaned back in my seat.
I made a practice of knowing about the things that scare the scary types and Grannok and his buddy sounded pretty freaked out that the God-Spear, whatever it was, was approaching. It was always good to know there was something out there that gave the bogeymen a fright, but sometimes that just meant an even worse bogeyman. Either way, this God-Spear thing seemed worth looking into.
We cut off the freeway and hooked onto a road that carried us a few blocks north of Downtown, into one of the oldest neighborhoods in the city. Some of the houses here had stood for over a hundred years, and the sometimes eclectic mix of architecture made for interesting scenery. Adobe haciendas stood next door to tall white Victorians, old growth trees and expensively manicured flower gardens dominated the yards. The neighborhood also happened to be home to some of the oldest money in Hanford, so it made sense Devlin had made his base here.
"Maybe I should go in by myself, not sure how Devlin would react to me coming in with muscle," I said as we pulled up to the curb outside the Red House, "He can be a little…unpredictable."
"Muscle?" Hack asked.
"I saw what you did to those pigs. That was nuts. Wait here. If I'm not back in ten minutes, blow the place up and give me a good eulogy," I said and got out of the car. Swift killed the engine as I walked up the winding cement path that led to the steps of the Red House.
It was built along the same lines as the Bastille, two daunting stories of red brick that looked more like a small fortress than a house, fitting for someone who fancied themselves the lord of the land. When it was first built over a hundred years ago, it was one of the first, and most notorious, mental hospitals in California. To add to the somewhat sinister aura, it specialized in child cases. It was shut down shortly after the Second World War when reports of the horrors that went on inside began to gain public attention. It stayed vacant for years, until Devlin Desmond purchased it and renovated it into his humble abode.
I mounted the steps and went up to the heavy oak doors, there were stained glass windows set into them, fancifully crafted stars in white and blue and yellow. I knocked a few times and waited. After a moment, a shape passed behind the glass and opened one of the doors. She wore a set of nurse's scrubs printed with a pattern of flowers, and she smelled like sunshine. I can't be certain, I was too enraptured by
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