Free Silent Night 2 by R.L. Stine Page A

Neutral. She leaned across the passenger seat and peered out the window, trying to see into the stockroom.
    Danny, are you in there?
    Up ahead, the truck driver slammed his door, startling her. She sat up straight, gripping the wheel, and watched as the big yellow truck slowly pulled away.
    Good, she thought, a little relieved. Now there’s no one else back here, no one to interfere, to mess us up.
    She glanced at the dashboard clock, then remembered it was broken.
    A loud shot made her cry out and duck. Her heart seemed to leap up from her chest.
    She was still trembling all over as she realized the sound came from the home-furnishings truck, backfiring as it pulled away.
    I’ve never been so scared in all my life, Diane realized. She wiped her wet hands on the legs of her jeans.
    Danny got the easy job, she thought. She glanced into the rearview mirror, making sure no one was coming up behind her. At least he has something to do. I just have to sit and wait and wait and wait, and be nervous.
    What if somebody comes to use the loadingdock? What if a security guard comes? Then what do I do?
    She pressed her foot down on the gas pedal. The engine rattled, then revved in reply.
    She lowered her head to peer into the dark stockroom.
    Was Danny in there? Was Reva there?
    Was the plan going to work?
    Hurry, Danny. Please—hurry!
    Diane glanced up again to check the rearview mirror.
    And cried out.
    A uniformed cop was approaching rapidly, his eyes trained on her car.

Chapter 16

DANNY LOSES
CONTROL
    D anny leaned against the wooden crate, staying hidden in the deep shadows. He raised his free hand to scratch his hair through the wool ski cap he had pulled down over his face.
    On his other arm he had draped the heavy black wool coat he had brought. His plan was to overpower Reva and muffle her cries by throwing the coat over her head. He looked around for the guard, but none was in sight. Lame security, he thought.
    As he scratched his head through the hot ski cap, his back began to itch. He rubbed it silently against the wooden crate.
    I always itch when I’m nervous, Danny thought. And I’m plenty nervous now.
    He had entered the stockroom twenty minutes earlier to find a safe hiding place. Luckily for Danny, a shipment of furniture had just been unloaded. The big crates had been stacked against a wall in the center of the vast stockroom. They gave Danny the perfect place to hide—and to watch for Reva.
    So far, so good, he thought, slipping down lower behind the crate as two men walked by, their shoes scraping against the concrete floor.
    If only this headache would go away.
    The headache was a dull throb at his temples now. Danny closed his eyes and prayed it wouldn’t get more intense.
    With the headaches came the anger, he knew. The red anger, Danny called it because he always saw flashes of red when the pain got really bad.
    The pain made him angry, so angry he sometimes lost control. So angry he seldom remembered what he did.
    Danny took a deep breath, then another, willing the headache away.
    Reva, where are you? he asked silently, leaning out from behind the tall packing crate.
    Reva, don’t keep me waiting. Please, don’t keep me waiting.
    I don’t know how long I have . . . until the pain takes over, until the red sweeps over me, takes control of me.
    Don’t keep me waiting, Reva. For your own good.
    Footsteps.
    There she is!
    He braced himself, every muscle in his body tensed. He straightened the wool ski mask, peering out through the two eyeholes.
    The throbbing at his temples grew stronger.
    He raised the heavy black coat.
    Then lowered it.
    It wasn’t Reva. It was a middle-aged woman in a tight-fitting gray business suit. Her spike heels clicked loudly on the concrete as she passed.
    Danny slumped back against the crate. He was breathing hard now, his breath escaping in noisy gasps. His head itched. He tried to ignore it.
    Calm. Be calm.
    But the throbbing