Good & Dead #1 Read Free Page B

Resigning himself to ridicule, he walked to the door, took a deep breath, and went inside. 
    Everyone looked at him when he came in.  Michael felt his face grow hot.  He was sure even his ears were turning red.  He spotted his bag on a chair on the far end of the room and made a beeline for it.  He was almost back to the door, jacket on and bag over his shoulder, when Charlotte spotted him.
    “Michael!” she called, making her way toward him through the party.
    Can I pretend I didn’t hear her?   Michael seriously considered running for the door—it was certainly what he wanted to do — but she was already closing in.
    “Michael!  Why are you—” she began.
    “I’m sorry,” Michael said. “I didn’t—”
    “Why are you sorry?” she asked. “What did you do wrong?”
    Michael stared at her.  His face was completely blank.  He had no idea what to say.  Finally, he smiled at himself.  “I don’t know,” he said, laughing nervously.
    Charlotte smiled.  “You look so embarrassed!  I came over here to thank you.  What did you think I was going to do?”
    “Yell at me,” he said almost inaudibly. 
    Charlotte laughed out loud.  Several people turned to look at them.  “You’re a good guy, Michael.”  She started to blush, and then she gave him a hug.  “Thank you,” she said, stepping back before Michael realized he should probably hug her back.
    “Good luck with your paper,” she said as she returned to her friends.
    Michael stood there for several seconds, looking at his bag.  Then he found the door. 
    The alley was still deserted.  Randy was right.  I should have punched him.   He was smiling from ear to ear as he walked toward the street.
    A strange sound from behind made him jump.
    Michael turned and looked into the gap between buildings. There was barely enough space for a small car to pass through, and it was strewn with garbage and discarded pieces of past sets that leaned against the walls.  There wasn’t much light.  He strained to see what had made the sound, but all he saw was two large dumpsters and a couple of drifts of filthy New York snow.  He turned to go.
    There it was again.  It was like a scratching…then a whimpering sound.  Michael’s stomach churned and he spun around and looked again.
    Something moved between the two dumpsters.  He peered into the alley, edging closer.
    With his eyes focused ahead, his foot caught on something and he fell, landing hard on his forearms.  Bits of ice and dirty snow stuck to his jacket.  He rolled onto his side to see what had tripped him. 
    It was a shiny green high-heeled shoe. 
    “Ma’am?” he asked urgently as he got to his feet.
    There was no answer.  Feeling like he was not ready to see the rest of what might be behind the dumpster, he thought of running back into the theatre for help.  She might be hurt.  He pressed on, feeling around in his pockets for his phone.  He rounded a trash pile and saw something that made is stomach lurch.
    There was a small stream of dark liquid running out from between the dumpsters. 
    Michael’s heart beat wildly.  He felt entirely unprepared for what he was about to see.
    I’ll go back for help , he thought numbly, already half turning.
    An enormous shadowed form rose from between the dumpsters.  He could feel eyes staring right into his.  Michael may as well have been made of stone.  In three huge strides the figure closed the distance between them.
    But I was just safe inside , he thought stupidly. I was just there.  “Help!” he whispered.
    The figure seemed too tall to be human, and too wide to be real.  Michael watched in slow motion as an enormous fist was raised.  And then he was flying across the alley, pain racing through every inch of him.  He hit the old brick building with enough force to drive the breath from his body.  Light burst across his vision, for a moment it seemed the alley was full of fireworks.  He landed face down on the filthy