Read Shallow Veins (The Obscured Book 1) for Free Online Page B

freeze in place. They share the fear. Felix’s tiny paws, still rested on Kevin’s thigh, dig in with extended claws. A tide of dread and death washes over them and they can do nothing about it.
    The sucking and spitting and scraping comes around the corner with such physical presence it confuses both of them when their eyes find no object to tie it to. Yet there it is, the disembodied noise, approaching, encroaching, passing under them- so close, the floorboards shake beneath their feet and paws.
    They hold on tight, pressed against each other, praying for it to end, to move on and forget them, leave them alone and let them live. It whirls around them and with it the stink of decay, the faint smell from the basement but much stronger, thicker, vomit times one thousand, shit and piss and rotten breath putrefied over a million years of hate and rot. It's enough to make anyone gag, vomit, fall to the ground choking, but they wouldn't dare make themselves known. To give up their presence, to admit the sound and stink might know they're here, alive, shaking just above, would be to admit that death knows their name.
    When it finally passes, moving to the stairs and on down to the basement, Kevin and Felix are kneeling in a puddle of urine.
     
     
    **
     
     
    Mary is in a good mood. She had a good talk at work today with a patient who without realizing it had given her some great advice.
    As she was prepping the older woman for a root deepening, laying out the dentist's tools as the nitrous took effect, the woman began singing lightly to calm herself down. Mary asked her what song is was, because it sounded old, older than radio, older than recordings, and the woman smiled in that sweet, gassed up way.
    She said, "Oh, I don't remember the name, I just remember it was my husband's favorite. I sang because he liked it. Can't stand music myself, but if it made him happy that was good." A deep breath from the mask, the whooshing of the canister. Sweet air filled her lungs. "Everyone's looking for money like money makes them happy. Money, money, money. All you have is your happiness, so if it makes him happy, do it, even if you think it's silly or dumb. A woman who can't make her husband happy with a smile and a squeeze is no woman at all."
    Mary stood at the tool tray, her back to the old lady, tears pooling in her eyes.
    Home now, she parks in the driveway, stopping to collect the mail from the mailbox, something she wishes Kevin would remember to do but it's not as big a deal as she made it out to be.
    She's about to head in when she notices something.
    With the mail in hand, she walks over to the driver's side window of Kevin's car. Inside, staring forward, Kevin sits behind the wheel. Just by his eyes, by their hollow rings, she knows her day is about to get much worse.
    Felix lays in the passenger seat, asleep.
    Mary calls Kevin's name, lightly at first, then louder, hoping not to scare him. After calling it three times she taps on the window. Instead of jumping or shouting, he turns his head to her and rolls the window down.
    "Do you need to tell me something," she asks.
    "I do." His tone is even, numb.
    "You want to come inside so we can talk?"
    He shakes his head.
    "Then tell me what you need. I can't help you unless you tell me."
    With one finger he presses the button that unlocks the passenger side door. The click wakes up Felix, and he wags his tail a bit when he sees Mary is home, but it worries her that even Felix looks spooked. She walks around the front of the car, watching Kevin the entire time, her eyes on him. Before she opens the door and gets in she lets out one, long sigh, outside, where he can't hear it. She scoops up Felix and holds him in her lap, petting him as much for her own comfort as for Felix's.
    After a few moments of silence, filled with stop-starts of talk, Kevin says, "I need your help."
    "Good. That's all I want to do. I want to help you."
    "The thing is, I don't know what kind of help I need." He