A Cold Tomorrow (Point Pleasant #2)

The damn monster had to go.

Over the summer, some tourist woman and her husband had snapped a partial photo of the creature. The Whitmores had been the toast of Point Pleasant for days. Reporters wanting to interview them, people fawning over them, buying them drinks and dinner. Hell, Eve Parrish even had a copy of the photo hanging in her hotel. She’d told them they could stay free any time they wanted. If some out-of-staters could snag that kind of fame with a shot that looked like a gray blob, he and Donnie would be kings if they killed the monster. Forget local stuff. They’d make world news, maybe even Johnny Carson. There’d be magazine covers, TV specials, lots of girls wanting their autographs.

He smiled as he crept forward. His thighs burned from the strain of staying in a crouch, but the pain was worth the effort. He’d heard about the thing’s eyes—red like blood, able to pick up even a glimmer of movement. It was like a damn hawk. “You got that rifle loaded?”

“Course it’s loaded.” Donnie sounded ticked. “What do you think I am? Some kind of halfwit?”

“Shh.” Duncan made a cutting motion, slicing his hand through the air. “There it was again.” Coming to a standstill, he strained his ears to listen. “Did you hear it?”

Donnie sucked on his lower lip for several seconds before shaking his head. “I don’t hear anything. Probably just some squirrel in the underbrush.” Standing, he let the rifle hang lax at his side. “Let’s pack it in and grab some lunch. We can hit the River Café and get a beer.”

“It’s going to see you.”

“Hell, Duncan, there’s nothing out here. Caden Flynn would have been all over it if there was.”

Caden had looked shaken when they’d found him outside the igloo, and he’d been covered in dirt. Maybe he’d stumbled across the monster and didn’t want to admit it had gotten the best of him. Running scared would look bad for a law enforcement officer. Not that he’d been running, but something had put him on edge.

“Ten more minutes,” Duncan bartered, tugging the rifle from his brother’s grasp. If Donnie wasn’t going to take things seriously, he’d make sure the weapon got put to good use. “We know it’s out here. We saw it last June.”

“And haven’t seen it since. I’m getting hungry. I need a burger.”

Crack.

The sudden sound broke the stillness on the tail of his words. Donnie immediately dropped into a crouch. “Shit. What was that?”

Duncan’s heart thumped into overdrive. A shadow loomed over them, masking the sun. Inside his skull the noise of a thousand bees swarmed to life. “Ugh!” Dropping the rifle, he clamped his hands over his ears. At his side, Donnie crashed to his knees, grunting and panting, his face twisted in pain.

The noise grew louder, joined by a battering wind. Blinking, Duncan raised his head, staring up into the sky. At first he saw nothing, just a gray blot of shadow. Then a form gradually took shape. A wing opened and expanded, blocking the trees and sky. The creature launched into the air, rising straight up like a helicopter. Duncan craned his neck, repulsed and terrified, compelled to look into its face.

He screamed.





Chapter 10


Caden guessed Katie and Ryan were already with Jerome by the time he arrived at the hospital. A quick check-in with admissions revealed Jerome had been moved from ICU to a room on the fourth floor. Taking the elevator, he shared the ride with a young girl and her mother. The girl looked to be about seven years old. Clutching three foil balloons, each decorated with a bright yellow happy face, she was plainly fascinated by his soiled uniform and unkempt hair. He’d dusted the worst of the debris from his uniform before climbing into his patrol car, but still looked like he’d rolled around in a dirt pile.

“Hi.” He tried to appear non-threatening.

The woman tugged her daughter to the back, but had the decency to offer a wobbly smile. When the car pinged to a stop on the third floor, she hustled them off without as much as a backward glance. Caden rode the remainder of the way by himself, immediately snaring the attention of two nurses when he stepped from the elevator.

“Sir? Sir?” The first called, rushing after him. “Do you need help?”

“No, I’m fine.” He offered a reassuring grin. “Just dusty. Thanks for your concern.”

Farther down the hall, he passed an orderly pushing an elderly man in a wheelchair.

“Good afternoon, Sergeant,” the old man said. He might look a mess, but his uniform garnered respect.

Caden returned his greeting, then rounded the corner toward Jerome’s room.

“…didn’t mean to cause such an uproar.”

He caught the tail end of Jerome’s words as he entered the room. The smell of antiseptic and clean laundry lingered in the air, mingled with a harsh medicinal odor. Sitting up in bed, Jerome looked pale but attentive, his thinning blond hair rumpled over his ears where the clear hose of an oxygen cannula was visible.

“I keep telling everyone I feel fine.” Tentatively, he fingered the tube under his nose as if assuring himself it was still in place. For a skinny man and habitual smoker, the oxygen was probably a blessing on a normal day. His gaze shifted to Caden as he stepped to the side of the bed. “Caden. Oh man, you too.” The words carried a sliver of concern. “I hope I didn’t do something I don’t know about. Uh, not that I don’t appreciate you, Ryan, and Katie visiting. You, um…” He licked his lips nervously. “Look worse than I do.”

“What happened to you?” Ryan asked with obvious concern.

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