The Second Horror Read Free Page B

father asked. “I haven’t even started,” Brandt admitted. “I’ll get to it. But I thought I’d go for a drive first, check out the area. Can I take the Honda?” His father frowned. “We’ve got a lot of settling in to do. I was hoping you’d finish in your room and start unpacking the books.” “I’ll get to it,” Brandt promised, picking up the car keys from the kitchen table and jiggling them in one hand. “I won’t be gone long.” “Brandt!” his father protested. Brandt dashed out the back door before they could stop him. He jumped into the dark green Honda and quickly backed around the van and down the driveway. His parents ran to the front yard, waving their arms at him, motioning for him to come back. He pretended not to see them. Lowering his foot hard on the gas pedal, he roared off down Fear Street. He sped up even more when his house vanished from sight. The old houses whirred by. Slender beams of morning sunshine poked through the old trees that lined the street. He rolled down the window and let the cool autumn air wash over his face. This is just what I needed, he told himself. To get out of the house, to get moving, to feel the air. With a squeal of tires, he turned off Fear Street and headed out of town. He jammed a cassette into the tape deck and cranked up the volume. He sang along with the music. ” ‘Don’t care if I live, don’t care if I die.’ ” Nothing but farm fields on both sides now. A long, twisting highway, nearly empty. Okay, let’s see how fast I can go! he thought. He jammed his foot down and watched the speedometer climb. Seventy miles an hour. Eighty. He flew around the tight curves, spinning the wheel, enjoying the excitement of not knowing what lay around the next curve. The road climbed into low brown hills. Brandt blasted the music and kept his foot jammed down on the accelerator. The road veered to the right and then sharply left. He gazed out over a deep gorge that plunged straight down to his right. A narrow river wound through the valley far below, sparkling in the sun. Beautiful, he thought, following the course of the river with his eyes. When he turned back to the road, the red oil truck already filled the windshield. I’m in the left lane! Brandt realized in panic.
    He cried out and frantically cut the wheel back to the right. But the car bounced out of control. Too far! Too far to the right! The oil truck’s airhorn rose like a siren. He slammed his foot down on the brake. The car skidded across the wide shoulder—heading straight toward the deep gorge.

Chapter 6
    Gripping the wheel with both hands, his foot all the way down on the brake, Brandt shut his eyes. And waited for the fall. Waited for the long slide down. When the car didn’t move, he opened his eyes—and saw that the car wasn’t moving. “Oh, man!” he cried, jumping out of the car. The right front tire hung over the edge of the gorge. The other three were safely on solid ground. “Oh, man,” he repeated, shaking his head. He hurried back into the small Honda. Brandt shifted into reverse and pressed the gas pedal. The tires skidded in the dirt. The car slipped, but in the wrong direction—farther out over the gorge. “Come on!” Brandt shouted to the car. When he hit the gas this time the rear tires caught the road and pulled the car back. The right front wheel eased up over the edge of the gorge and back onto the shoulder. Brandt stopped for a second and caught his breath. Then he made a U-turn and sped back toward home at eighty miles an hour. “That was fun,” he said out loud. “Man, that was fun!”
    That night Brandt lay restlessly in the darkness, waiting for sleep. I’m so tired from putting up bookshelves and unpacking boxes all afternoon, he thought. So why can’t I get to sleep? He stared at the ceiling. He listened for raccoon scratches. Silence. So why did he have this strange feeling, the feeling that something was hovering nearby. Something dangerous. It