The Child Thief
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| The Child Thief Brom Contents Map Prologue Part I Peter Chapter One Child Thief Chapter Two Nick Chapter Three Mist Part II Deviltree Chapter Four Goll Chapter Five Devils Chapter Six Wolf Chapter Seven Sekeu Chapter Eight Nathan Chapter Nine First Blood Chapter Ten Ginny Greenteeth Chapter Eleven Barghest Chapter Twelve Lady Modron’s Garden Chapter Thirteen Men-kind Chapter Fourteen Clan Chapter Fifteen Merrow’s Cove Part III The Flesh-eaters Chapter Sixteen Flame Photographic Insert Chapter Seventeen Haven Chapter Eighteen Caliburn Chapter Nineteen Murder Part IV The Captain Chapter Twenty Samuel Carver Chapter Twenty-One Drowning Cage Chapter Twenty-Two Old Scabby Chapter Twenty-Three Avallach’s Tree Chapter Twenty-Four Ferry Part V Ulfger Chapter Twenty-Five God’s House Chapter Twenty-Six Horned One Author’s Note or An Ode to Peter Pan Acknowledgments About the Author Other Books by Brom Credits Copyright About the Publisher Map Prologue It would happen again tonight: the really bad thing. The girl had no doubt. It had started a few months ago, around the time her breasts had begun to develop, and now, with her mother gone, there was no one to stop him. From her bedroom she could hear him pacing the cluttered living room of the cramped apartment. He was in one of his fits, muttering to himself, cursing the television, his boss, the president, Jesus, but mostly cursing her mother for taking all those pills, cursing her to hell and back, over and over. But her mother was dead and would never have to suffer through another of his tirades, not ever again. The girl wished she were so lucky. There came the sharp snap of a beer tab, then another, and another. Her hands began to tremble and she clutched them to her chest. She wished she could fall asleep, then she would at least be spared the waiting, the dread. But she knew there’d be no sleep for her tonight. He was there. The flickering light from the television silhouetted him as he leaned against her door frame. She couldn’t see his eyes, but knew they were on her. She twisted the sheet tightly about her neck as though it were some magical talisman to ward away wickedness. Sometimes he stared at her like that for hours, muttering to himself in his two voices: the kind, soft voice, and the harsh, scary voice. Back and forth the voices went, like two men debating their religious convictions. Usually, the soft voice prevailed. But tonight, there was no sign of the soft voice, only a low rasp punctuated with sharp barks of profanity. He moved into the room, setting his beer on the dresser next to her Betty Boop radio-alarm clock, the one that woke her up for school with its crackling rendition of “Boop Oop a Doop.” She’d missed a lot of school lately, partly because she was tired of the looks and whispers from the other students, from the teachers, all so careful around her, as though her mother’s suicide was somehow contagious. But mostly she wanted to avoid Mrs. Stewart—the guidance counselor—and all her prying questions. Somehow Mrs. Stewart seemed to know and was determined to get her to talk about it. This scared the girl. There was a two-inch scar on the side of her head where her hair would never grow back in. He’d made that mark with a dinner fork the one time she’d tried to tell her mother. The girl found herself thinking more and more about the pills her mother had swallowed, wondered if those pills could take her to her mother. She thought about that every time the bad thing happened. His hand was on her—heavy, hot. She could feel his heat even through the sheet. He pulled the cover away then sat next to her, his weight sinking into the small box springs and causing her body to slide against him. He laid a calloused hand on her calf, slid it slowly up along her inner thigh and under her flannel nightgown, his thick fingers squeezing and prodding. His breathing became heavy. He stood. She heard his thick brass belt buckle hit the floor then he was on top of her, the small mattress protesting his bulk. She clutched her pillow and struggled not to cry out, staring out the window and trying to take herself somewhere else. The stars were Yüklə 3,27 Mb. Dostları ilə paylaş:
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