The Boy With the Spider Face のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 11 - チャプター 16

CHAPTER 12A web trapped Jeff, suspending him in darkness. His head throbbed, and every inch of his body hurt. A weighted sensation replaced his lower half, filling him with fear. Help! The words caught in his throat like bugs in a net. From the shadows, appeared a shimmer of light, growing, taking on the shape of a person. Hundreds of sparkling dots gave the form mass, and Jeff recognized who it was. Aarav! You’ve come to help! I knew you’d forgive me. It approached and extended a hand. Jeff tried to stretch his arm, but something kept it in place. “I can’t get to you! My dad . . . my mom—they’ve gone crazy. Help me get loose.” The shape dropped his hand and turned away in sorrow. Aarav, please! Don’t leave me! Jeff wasn’t sure he’d spoken out loud. Aarav paused, looking like he could fade away any moment. Please!The entity spun around. It was no longer Aarav standing there, but Preston. The boy snarled, his face twisting as he did. His body showcased puncture wounds

CHAPTER 14“Help!” The sting of the icy rain shocked Jeff’s body as he ran. “Help!” The mushy lawn sank beneath his feet as he darted across the yard and up Mr. Crawford’s porch. “Someone, help! Please.” Dammit. I can’t knock with these things. When the storm drowned out his scraping claws, he kicked the door. “Mr. Crawford open up! Please, my mother’s hurt.” Stupid old man. Why doesn’t he answer? He gave up and crossed the street as Mr. Drake stepped from the Pritchet’s house and into the yard. I’ve got to keep trying, Jeff thought, leaping up the steps to another home. “Mr. Brando! Mrs. Brando!” The door rattled from his kick. “My mom is hurt. Can you please help us?”Across the way, Mr. Crawford cracked his door and stuck his head out, watching Jeff run from place to place. He opened the door further and stood beneath the roof’s overhang.Please, please let her be home. The widow Leery’s house was the next closest. The doorframe splintered under the force of his foot, which he ho

CHAPTER 16The gas pedal wouldn’t press any further. Each speed bump the old man hit caused the truck to bottom out, sending loose items flying through the cab. Chapstick, pennies, an empty coffee cup. Everything rattled in chaos. He leaned from the window and hollered, praying she would hear. “Lily!” The wind whipped the top of his bald head and dried his eyes. But rather than slow for a response, he kept on the accelerator. His gut told him where she was.A photograph of his partner Craig, cradling Lily against his chest the day their son brought her home from the hospital, blew from between the console and passenger seat, then stuck to the dash before it could get sucked out the window. The man looked at his granddaughter’s innocent face and prayed she’d still be alive when he found her.***The day had been warm, but when the sun hid behind a cloud, the early fall air sent a shiver through Lily, reminding her it was toward the end of the year rather than the middle. Not