Read And Darkness Fell for Free Online Page B

ambulance. No one working the hospitals.”
“That’s what’s eating me up inside. I’m surprised it’s not eating you up as
well.”
“Being beaten up and left for dead changed my outlook,” Reed said edgily.
I grabbed a flashlight and one of the handguns. I told myself to ignore the
dead figure in the rocker and focus on the house.
The front door, made of carved mahogany, had a large oval pane of glass built
into its center. I aimed my flashlight at the glass but saw only the glare from its
reflection.
The door was unlocked. I eased it open and aimed my light at the gaping
square of darkness facing me. A large tile foyer. Carpeted stairs straight ahead
and doorways to my right and left. A light-switch panel on the wall directly to my
left.
I tried the switches. The foyer flickered at first, went dark again, then came
right back, spraying the area with bright yellow light. The living room blazed,
then the dining room, front porch, and kitchen. Apparently the grid handling the
area still provided temporary power.
“Nice,” Reed said behind me.
I felt as if we’d just won the lottery. To be safe, I flicked off the porch light as
well as the kitchen light.
The house radiated comfort and warmth. Framed family photos covered a
stretch along the living room wall and extended up the stairs.
The living room boasted a high beamed ceiling, lots of furniture, and polished
hutches and shelves. Knickknacks and mementoes filled every niche. A large
leather couch sat in front of a big bay window. A smaller couch faced it. An oval
coffee table piled with magazines rested between the two pieces. A wicker-back
rocker occupied the far corner. A thick, well-worn armchair sitting against the far
wall faced the entryway.
Despite its aged attractiveness, the room’s silent emptiness and lingering
smell brought me back. This home would no longer hear laughter, joy, or any
other sounds of life. It would never again exude delicious aromas from the
kitchen. It had become yet another mausoleum in a world filled with death.
“I’d better do a search upstairs,” I said.
“Be careful. He doesn’t hear anything, but you know what that might mean.”
“Someone could be up there, waiting.”
“Looters have no conscience.”
Reed’s statement made the hair bristle on the back of my neck.
“What the hell do you think we are?”
He blinked. “We … haven’t hurt anyone. We’re just using the facilities. These
people have already died. I honestly don’t think they’d mind, Moss.”
His reasoning didn’t make me feel any better. We’d just walked into
someone’s house while a dead man slumped in a rocker on the front porch. I was
going to see what was salvageable and what we could take with us. That meant
searching the rooms and going through people’s dressers and closets—just as I’d
done in St. Cloud.
These people were dead, but it didn’t change the fact that I’d become a looter.
My disgust and self-loathing rose to new levels.
I forced myself up the stairs and stopped at the doorway of the first bedroom.
A girl in her late teens lay on the floor, just a few feet from her vanity. Apparently
her reflection was the last thing she saw before falling out of her chair and dying
on the carpet. She was dressed in a white slip. One of her fuzzy pink bunny
slippers had dislodged beneath her vanity. A cell phone lay just a few inches from
her outstretched arm.
A middle-aged couple lay in bed in the master bedroom, staring up at the
ceiling. They both wore pajamas and held hands. They’d obviously chosen to die
together.
In another bedroom, a woman around seventy lay on the bed on her back. She
wore a red, flowery housecoat that had opened, revealing her white slip. She was
probably the wife of the old man on the porch. Perhaps her husband had slipped
outside for some fresh air before going to bed. Maybe he hadn’t asked her to
accompany him because she’d already fallen. Or maybe he knew he was going to
die and