Part 40 (1/2)
The knife inside her head began to twist again.
Just a twinge at first, but building quickly until her skull seemed to throb with the pain.
The reddish glow in the room deepened, and the odor in her nostrils turned rank.
A loud humming began in her ears.
The aching in her head increased, and turned now into a sharp stabbing. She took a step backward, as if to escape the pain, but it seemed to pursue her.
The hum in her ears built to a screech, and the redness in the room began to flash with bolts of green and blue.
And then, as panic built within her, she saw a great hand spread out above her, its fingers reaching toward her, grasping at her.
She screamed.
The boy looked up as the piercing scream shattered the quiet of the room. For a split second he wasn't certain where it had come from, but then he saw the teacher.
Her eyes were wide with either pain or terror-he wasn't certain which-and her mouth twisted into an anguished grimace as the last of the scream died on her lips.
Her arms rose up as if to ward off some unseen thing that was attacking her, and then she staggered backward, struck the wall and seemed to freeze for a moment.
As he watched, she screamed once more and sank to the floor.
Her arms flailed at the air for a few seconds, then she wrapped them around her body, drawing her knees up to her chest as she rolled helplessly on the worn wooden planks.
The boy rose from his seat and dashed to the front of the room, kneeling down beside her. But as he reached out to touch her, she screamed yet again and scrabbled away, only to collapse a second later, sobbing uncontrollably.
When the ambulance took her away, she was still sobbing, still screaming.
The boy watched the ambulance leave, but even after it had disappeared into the distance, the sobs and screams lingered on, echoing in his memory.
Perhaps the other students who were in the cla.s.sroom might forget the agony they'd heard and seen that day.
The boy never would.
John Saul is ”a writer with the touch for raising goose-flesh,” says the Detroit News Detroit News, and bestseller after bestseller have proved again and again his mastery for storytelling and his genius at creating heart-stopping suspense. Enter his chilling world, and prepare to realize your own hidden fears: BrainchildCreatureDarknessThe G.o.d Projecth.e.l.lfireNathanielSecond ChildSleepwalkThe UnlovedThe UnwantedShadowsa cognizant original v5 release november 24 2010
Available from Bantam Books and now, turn the page for a special preview of John Saul's novel, SHADOWS.... SHADOWS....
They call it The Academy.
Housed in a secluded, cliff-top mansion overlooking the rugged and picturesque Pacific coast, it is a school for special children. Children gifted-or cursed-with extraordinary minds. Children soon to come under the influence of an intelligence even more brilliant than their own-and unspeakably evil. For within this mind a dark, ingenious plan is taking form. A h.e.l.lish experiment meant to probe the ultimate limits of the human brain.
A novel of unrelenting, nerve-jangling suspense, Shadows Shadows is John Saul's most terrifying tale to date...now, here is a chilling glimpse of what awaits you in the... is John Saul's most terrifying tale to date...now, here is a chilling glimpse of what awaits you in the...
SHADOWS.
Shadows.
Timmy Evans woke up in shadows.
Shadows so deep he saw nothing.
Shadows that surrounded Timmy, wrapping him in a blackness so dense that he wondered if the vague memory of light that hovered on the edges of his memory was perhaps only a dream.
Yet Timmy was certain that it was not merely a dream, that there was such a thing as light; that somewhere, far beyond the shadows in which he found himself, there was another world.
A world, he was suddenly certain, of which he was no longer a part.
He had no idea what time it was, nor what day, nor even what year.
Was it day, or night?
He had no way of knowing.
Tentatively, the first tendrils of panic already beginning to curl themselves around him, Timmy began exploring the blackness of his shadowed world, tried to reach out into the darkness.
He could feel nothing.
It was almost as if his fingers themselves were gone.
He put his hands together.
Instead of the expected warmth of one palm pressed firmly against the other, there was nothing.
No feeling at all.
The tendrils of panic grew stronger, twisting around Timmy Evans like the tentacles of a giant octopus.
His mind recoiled from the panic, pulling back, trying to hide from the darkness.
What had happened?
Where was he?
How had he gotten there?
Instinctively, he began counting.
”One.”
”Two.”
”Three.”
”Four.”