Free The Outkast by Craig Thomas Page B

He didn’t know if this was the way people die. Or maybe it was just a horrible kind of dream from which he would wake up soon—provided there ever could be a feeling of such severe pain in a dream of any sort. But whether he knew or not, he wanted Robert to get out quickly, and call for help.
    “ Run now,” he yelled with the last reserve of his strength. But Robert was unmoving, just resting against the back of the tree like he’d done since Donnie had arrived at the scene. Perhaps the boy was dead. Donnie burst into tears, sliding on his chest towards Robert, blood trailing him. “Oh, no ... Robert, this can’t be true ...”
    The creature put one foot down in front of Donnie, making the slithering man stop in his track. “You’re a real fighter. Very brave. I like you. And you shall be rewarded. Yeah, I shall help you rise to your destiny,” the ape-man said. It grabbed Donnie’s collar again, and pulled him up. With its scythe, it hacked repeatedly into Donnie’s solar plexus until the man, who had suddenly developed a caring attitude towards Robert, became motionless.
     
     
    ******
    The Outcast dropped the flabby body on the ground, and walked towards Robert. Again, it was time to wake the boy up from his near-stupor. And to hand him the weapon of justice—this time, a bloody scythe.
     
     
    ******
    Brad wanted to let Donnie realized that he was sick and tired of being screamed at. He unlocked the front door, but didn’t open it. “Come on in whenever you’re good and ready,” he yelled out to Donnie, and walked back into the living room.
    Then, he stopped, having noticed Donnie didn’t open the door.
    He walked back to the door, pushed it open, looked out this way and that, and found no living soul.
    “ What the hell are you up to?” Brad said under his breath. He decided to go back to bed. But then, a glimpse of something caught his eye. It glinted in the glow of the lights, right there on the porch step. He drew closer and found out it was blood.
    He slammed the door shut right away, locked.
    He didn’t have a clear-cut understanding of what was going on, but there was blood on his porch step and a late night visit by the strange Donnie Murphy. So, he had a reason to believe something was wrong with the world.
    Back in the living room, he picked up the phone and called Donnie.
    Then, he called the cops.

 
     
     
    Chapter 12
     
     
     
     
    At last, the moon began to smile down on the slumbering souls of Ogre’s Pond.
    The Outcast turned the ignition on, and under the blessing of the lunar light, he drove off.
    It had taken him a good while to finalize business with Donnie and get back to the spot where he’d parked his SUV. But he hadn’t regretted a second of the experience. In fact, he felt so elated, because he had spent some quality time with Donnie. Some kills took longer than the others. The longer and more complex they were, the more fulfilled he became. The job was all done now. It was time to celebrate the conquest.
    But first things first. He would make one last visit to the River, a ritual he performed each time the eradication process of one more foe had been completed—with the exception of Trevor, of course. That was another reason he detested to relive his experience with the feeble man.
    He drove back to the dirt road that ran parallel to the trail, which in turn ran along the bank of Sebastian River. He wanted to have one last look at Donnie’s body, to breathe in the air of fresh conquest and taste the sweetness of it.
    If he hadn’t been very vigilant, or if he had completely given himself over to the deep euphoric feeling of his victory, he might not have noticed on time. Ahead, the Sheriff’s cruiser was parked in-between two fat oak trees, a set of disco lights gyrating atop its roof.
    The Outcast swerved into an area of overgrown underbrush, farther away from the side of the road, and cut out the engine. He got out from behind the wheel, moved to a concealing