Darkness Creeping Read Free

easy—certainly easier than having to listen to Marty nag about them—which is exactly what Marty was counting on.
    With a determination he rarely showed, Marty settled in to watch the surveillance tapes. The thing about the Creamy-Cold man is that he didn’t come every day, and he always came at a different time. You could never predict when you’d hear that maddening “Pop Goes the Weasel” tune. Marty had no way of knowing when he might pass by in the background. He watched hour after hour of tape, amazed at how many people at the ATM made faces at the camera, figuring no one would actually watch it. He saw one mugging, which his father claimed to already know about, but no ice-cream truck. He was about to give up when a white blur zoomed past in the background—a blur that was somehow different from all the other cars, trucks, and buses that zipped by. Marty hit the pause button so hard, the remote flew out of his hand. He picked it up and played the last few seconds frame by frame.
    It was there in the tenth frame.
    It was blurry, it was faint, but it was there: a speeding white truck with pictures of ice-cream selections on the side, and there was a big sign over the service window that said CREAMY-COLD.
    Success! Proof positive! There actually was a Creamy-Cold truck. Tyler had been wrong—it was real. Maybe he was right in saying that it never stopped—but that could just be because it was driven by a psychotic ice-cream man. Sure—that was it—some lunatic who got his kicks taunting people with the promise of ice cream never delivered—but this was no ghost truck!
    Then Marty let the video go one more frame—and what he saw in the next frame really got his attention.
    The truck had progressed farther into the image. Its front end was already out of the picture, but now the entire sign above the service window could be read. It said CREAMY-COLD. CATCH MEIF YOU DARE.
    Marty smiled. This was a challenge if ever there was one. He would catch the Creamy-Cold man—not just for himself but for all the kids who had ever run out into the street only to be denied the ice cream they so rightfully deserved. The Creamy-Cold man was going down!

    Literature tells of a captain, name of Ahab.
    Ahab had an unhealthy obsession with a great white whale that led to the destruction of his ship, and to his own untimely end. He had a first mate named Starbuck. I know what you’re thinking, but Starbuck had absolutely nothing to do with making coffee. If he had, perhaps Captain Ahab might have kicked the whale habit and pursued the white-chocolate latte instead of the white whale. Unfortunately, as Ahab discovered, obsessions are rarely reasonable, and quite often will lead to one’s personal doom. Although few involve the death of a sea mammal.
    Marty’s great white whale had four wheels and played a painfully annoying tune. He had no Starbuck to help him, since his first mate, Tyler, was off at the tribal casino, which, thanks to the luck of the Irish, was raking in big bucks. Therefore, in this obsession, Marty was alone.
    Catching the ice-cream truck on film was different from catching it in person. It required a plan. He drew a map of the neighborhood, marking the entry and exit points. He labeled the sight lines from various key vantage spots. Then Marty took stock of the tools at his disposal. There were lots of them, because Mr. Zybeck often brought home things from the office that wouldn’t be missed. Things like paper clips, or police tape, which was good for wrapping presents if you ran out of ribbon. Mr. Zybeck brought home a few body bags once. Mrs. Zybeck found them wonderful for storing linens, although they did give Grandma quite a scare.
    The various items Mr. Zybeck made off with from the police station were stockpiled in the garage. Marty systematically went through them, searching for things that he could use. There was a stun gun, but it was missing its charger. There was an entire case of pepper spray.