Shallow Veins (The Obscured Book 1) Read Free Page A

to see you're a stubborn mule." He finishes his beer and orders a second from Katie, minus the attitude. "See her?" He nods to the booth in the corner. A well-dressed blonde in her late thirties sits with her back to the wall chatting up the pair of men across from her. Her green blouse is just a bit too tight to be considered purely professional- the same as her smile. “That,” Banks says, “is Meredith Maycomb. She's very well known in these parts, if you know what I mean.”
    “What does she do?”
    “I don't know, real estate or something. The point I'm trying to make is she gets around, and I plan to be there when she comes around.”
    Butcher rubs his face. “Do I have to remind you you're a cop?”
    “That depends, do I have to remind you you're an asshole?”
    “I haven't forgotten.” He makes eye contact with Meredith Maycomb across the bar, noting the hungry expression in her eyes, the knowing nod, the confident smile. He nods back, climbs off his stool and throws a few bills on the bar. “It's been fun, Banks.”
    “Sure, sure.” Without taking his eyes off Meredith.
    Butcher says, “Come Monday I'll be fighting this. I don't need a partner to do my job, and I sure as shit don't need a sitter.”
    Banks glances his way. “Then maybe you should stop suckin' on that bottle all day.”
    Butcher nods and leaves, looking one last time at Meredith Maycomb and the men with her, buzzing like two flies who haven't figured out yet they're caught.
     
     
    **
     
     
    After unpacking a few boxes, Kevin changes into the oldest pair of jeans he owns and heads outside to assess the state of the garden. He puts his fingers in the dirt and turns over leaves, looking for anything from dry soil to infestation. At first he doesn't pick up on what’s wrong, but soon he realizes there are no aphids or slugs chewing on the leaves, no red bugs nesting in the roots. Despite the perfect conditions, the plant-life here is devoid of their crawling and egg-laying.
    For the briefest moment, Kevin's brain allows him to feel lucky. While most homeowners waste their time and money on such day-to-day suburban tragedies, he and Mary will be spared from its touch.
    The moment doesn't last.
    Over a dinner of chicken and noodles, Kevin brings up the strange business of the garden to Mary. “Do you think it’s strange that I couldn't find a single insect?”
    “A bit, but considering how much I don't like bugs, I’m perfectly happy living with the mystery if you are.” The way their legs move gives her spinal shivers, their lack of veins or compassion.
    They get back to their noodles.
    The next day, though, after looking for him in the bedroom, and the basement, and the driveway, she finds him in the backyard staring into the trees. His body is so still she wonders if it's possible to die standing up. She calls his name but he doesn't hear it. She calls it again and he jumps, startled, and when she asks him what he's doing, he tells her he's looking.
    “Looking for birds.”
    “First the bugs, then the birds.”
    “This is serious,” he says.
    “Of course it is.”
    “Something is wrong with this house.”
    “Of course there is.”
     
     
    **
     
     
    The ground moves. It’s almost imperceptible, just a slight shift of dry dirt. The grasshopper, green as a new leaf, stops to check the air. With its translucent head perked and its antennae working, it looks for danger in the flat rocks, in the dead tree branch, in the small puddle of water ahead. It sees and hears nothing. Yet it knows something is wrong.
    The grasshopper takes a few hesitant steps forward, but this time there’s no mistaking it- the ground swells up only inches away, and up from the dirt something rises. With impossible speed, long, dark legs covered in tan hair reach up and grab the grasshopper, trapping it in bristles.
    Before it has a chance to fight for its life, the grasshopper is pulled into the waiting fangs beneath the ground, down into the dark,