The Order of Brigid's Cross - The Wild Hunt (Book 1): The Wild Hunt Read Free Page B

as she aimed the remote at the television and it
turned on. “Works just fine,” she said.
    He looked at her. Lying against the
pillows, her face seemed so little and delicate. “I love you, Grandma,”
he said, leaning over and giving her a kiss on her cheek.
    She hugged him. “I love you too, Jamal,” she said with a
soft smile. “Goodnight.”
    “Goodnight Grandma.”

Chapter Three

 
    The streets were deserted as Jamal jogged towards the park. He
figured people were either hiding inside or actually at the park by now.   A throw down in this neighborhood usually meant
semi-automatic guns with stray bullets that could easily pierce a door, window
or even a wall.   Usually, when the word
spread, people took to an interior room in their home.   Even though the park was two miles away, the
fight often spread to the surrounding area where no one was safe.   Jamal was glad his grandma’s room had no
windows. Because gun fire was so common, she would probably just sleep through
the noise, and if there were any sirens, they would be far enough away she
wouldn’t be disturbed.
    He was about a block away from the park, and he could see
the cars and vans pulled up onto the grass, forming a circle around the middle
of the park. Suddenly, an explosion of gunshots rent the air and echoed down
the street. Screams followed, but they were drowned out by an even more
explosive round of gunfire.
    He stepped into an overhang of a closed grocery store and
pulled the gun from beneath his jacket.   He held it in both hands, feeling the cold metal against his palms.   It felt heavier than he had imagined. He had
never fired a gun before.   He didn’t even
know if it was loaded. But, he had to trust Devonte. He had no choice.
    With the gun palmed in his hand and the sleeve of his jacket
hiding it, he slipped out onto the sidewalk again and slowly made his way towards
the park, using the backdrop of the boarded up stores for protection.   Sliding along the front of each store, he
would pause and peer up the gangway between buildings to make sure no one else
was hiding there, waiting for an easy kill of an unsuspecting member of their
rival gang. The going was slow, but he wasn’t about to take any chances.
    Finally, he reached the corner of the block.   He hid behind a newsstand, locked and closed up
for the night, and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm his pounding heart. The
gun war hadn’t slowed, and there were no sirens in the distance indicated cops
coming. “You got no choice, Jamal. You got to do this,” he whispered to
himself. “You gotta go now.”
    He started to run out to the street when the ground rolled
beneath his feet, and he was thrown backwards to the curb, his gun skidding
across the asphalt.   He scrambled after his
gun but stayed down low.   The ground
rumbled again, and Jamal could hear a thundering sound in the distance.   What
the hell?
    He glanced up, but the sky was clear and the moon was full.
Except… He watched a gray cloud race across the sky, dark and rolling, moving
in his direction.   He crawled backwards,
his eyes still on the sky, his hands scraping against concrete, as he moved as
quickly as he could. Finally, he hit against something solid and he forced
himself to look away from the sky and over his shoulder for a moment.   He was up against the smooth metal surface of
the newsstand. He should be safe here.
    Then he looked up again, and his heart jumped to his throat as
the rotating cloud covered the moon and angled its descent towards earth. “It’s
a tornado,” he cried, struggling to his feet. “I gotta get inside.”
    He jumped up and dashed back to the first vacant storefront.
The former plate glass door was now boarded up with various-sized pieces of
plywood that crossed over each other in several layers.   The large, showcase windows had also been
boarded over, and gangs from the area had spray painted them with ugly, black
marks.
    Jamal reached out and yanked on