Free The Dead Ones (Death Herself Book 3) by Amy Cross Page A

are!”
    “Mom, wait -”
    She slams the door shut just as I reach for her, and it's a miracle that I pull my hand out of the way in time to keep my fingers from being crushed. As the door shudders in its frame, I listen to the sound of Mom storming through the house, and a moment later I hear breaking glass.
    Struggling to my feet, I take a step back and realize that there's no way I can argue with her. Whenever she gets into one of her rages, she's damn near out of control, and the best thing is just to wait until she passes out. That'll take hours, though, so I turn and limp away from the house. I flinch as soon as I hear more glass breaking inside, and I can only imagine what she's doing right now in my brother's room. It won't be safe to go home for hours, so I pull my phone from my pocket and bring up Molly's number.
    “Come on,” I mutter, as I wait for her to answer. “Please pick up. I need you right now.”

Chapter Eight
     
    “Hey, you've reached Molly,” the answerphone message says for the tenth time today. “If you -”
    Hanging up, I slip my phone away and let out a sigh. It's dark now and I've been trudging the streets for hours, taking care to avoid the areas where I'm most likely to run into trouble. Adam and his buddies aren't the only bullies in town, but I've learned over the years that bullies have a tendency to stick to the same areas, so it's usually not too hard to keep out of their way. In fact, most times when I bump into Adam, it's because I've willingly dared myself to take more of a risk. Tonight I have no such desire, so I stick to the back alleys and shadows, and to the streets with broken lighting. It's almost 11pm, and I figure I need to keep away from the house for at least another two hours before I dare go back. Sometimes when Mom gets really drunk and really angry, she stays awake well into the small hours.
    Hearing footsteps in the distance, I instinctively duck away from the sidewalk. I crouch in the shadows of someone's front yard and listen as the footsteps come closer. Whoever it is, they sound calm enough, and I wait as the steps go past. I don't see anyone, which seems a little odd, but I guess they must have been in the shadows. I stay low for a few minutes, until well after the footsteps have passed, before getting to my feet and resuming my long, aimless trudge along the street. Sometimes I feel like a ghost in my own body.
    Eventually I realize that I'm about to walk past the school. I hesitate for a moment, almost turning back, before forcing myself to keep going. As I get closer to the entrance, I see the dark, hulking building resting unlit under the night sky. There are a couple of lights around the perimeter, but the main part of the school has been left shrouded in darkness. I know it's dumb, but I feel a shiver rippling through my chest as I walk past, and I can't help thinking back to that awful day three years ago when this whole street was filled with police cars and ambulances, while helicopters hovered overhead and news crews reported excitedly from behind the police cordon.
    “Oh God,” I remember Debbie whimpering as we hid under a table, “please let me get out of this.”
    Now, there's just darkness, and an empty parking lot, and a few bikes resting against the wall around the side of the building, and a general sense of uneasy calm.
    I keep walking, glad to get past and -
    Wait.
    I stop.
    What?
    Bikes resting against the wall?
    Stepping back, I look at the bikes and realize with a slow sense of concern that I recognize one of them. Making my way over, I double-check and see that I was right. A bright pink BMX with a broken front-light could only belong to one person, and when I glance around the side of the main building I see that the door to the gym has been propped open.
    “Molly?” I whisper, taking a step forward.
     
    ***
     
    “If you are there, we only want to talk to you. We come in peace.”
    I hear the voice as soon as I get through the