Night World : Dark Angel Chapter 1

Gillian Lennox didnt mean to throttle that day.She was mad, though. Mad because she had missed her ride home from school, and because she wascold, and because it was two weeks before Christmas and she was rattling, very lonely.She walked by the side of the empty road, which was ab erupt as winding and hilly as every other countryroad in south-western Pennsylvania, and savagely kicked offending clumps of speed of light out of her way.It was a rotten day. The sky was delaying and the snow looked tired. And Amy Nowick, who should havebeen waiting after Gillian cleaned up her studio fraud project, had already driven away-with her new boyfriend.Sure, it must have been an honest mistake. And she wasnt green-eyed of Amy, she wasnt, even though oneweek ago they had both been 16 and never been kissed.Gillian just wanted to get home.That was when she heard the crying.She stopped, looked around. It sounded like a baby-or maybe a cat. It seemed to be glide path from the woods.Her first thought was, Paula Belizer. just that was ridiculous. The little girl whod disappearedsomewhere at the end of this road had been at peace(p) for over a year now.The crying came again. It was thin and far away-as if it were coming from the depths of the woods. Thistime it sounded more human. hi? Hey, is somebody in in that location? on that point was no answer. Gillian stared into the dense stand of oak and hickory, trying to see between thegnarled bare trees. It looked uninviting. Scary.Then she looked up and dismantle the road. Nobody. Hardly surprising-not many cars passed by here.I am not going in there alone, Gillian thought. She was exactly the opposite of the Oh, its such a splendidday lets go tramping through the woods type. Not to mention exactly the opposite of the gallant type. notwithstanding who else was there? And what else was there to do?Somebody was in trouble.She slipped her left over(p) arm through her rachispack strap, settling it on the center of her bac k and leaving herhands free. Then she cautiously began to climb the snow-covered continue that fell away on the other side tothe woods.Hello? She tangle stupid shouting and not getting any answer. Hi HelloOnly the crying sound, faint but continuous, somewhere in strawman of her.Gillian began to flounder see the rooftree. She didnt weigh much, but the crust on the snow was very thinand every step as wellk her ankle deep.Great, and Im wearing sneakers. She could line up cold seeping into her feet.The snow wasnt so deep once she got into the woods. It was dust coat and unbroken beneath thetrees-and it gave her an eerie sense of isolation. As if she were in the wilderness.And it was so quiet. The farther Gillian went in, the deeper the silence became. She had to stop and notbreathe to hear the crying. rest left, she told herself. Keep walking. Theres nothing to be scared ofBut she couldnt make herself blackguard again. There is something weird about this placeDeeper and deeper in to the woods. The road was far rear end her now. She crossed fox tracks and birdscratches in the snow-no sign of any-l thing human.But the crying was right ahead now, and louder. She could hear it clearly.Okay, up this big ridge. Yes, you piece of ass do it. Up, up. Never mind if your feet are cold.As she struggled over the petulant ground, she tried to think comforting thoughts.Maybe I can issue an article about it for the Viking News and everyone will admire me Wait. Is itcool or uncool to rescue somebody? Is saving people too nice to be cool?It was an important question, since Gillian currently had only two ambitions 1) David Blackburn, and, 2)To be invited to the parties the popular kids were invited to. And both of these depended, in a large part,on be cool.If she were only popular, if she only tangle good about herself, then everything else would follow. It wouldbe so much easier to be a really wonderful soul and do something for the world and make somethingimportant of her life if she just felt loved and accepted. If she werent shy and short and immature lookingShe reached the top of the ridge and grabbed at a branch to keep her balance. Then, still hanging on,she let out her breath and looked around. zero to see. Quiet woods leading down to a creek just below.And nothing to hear, either. The crying had stopped.Oh, dont do this to mefrustration warmed Gillian up and chased away her fear. She yelled, Hey-hey, are you still out there?Can you hear me? Im coming to help youSilence. And then, very faintly, a sound.Directly ahead.Oh, my God, Gillian thought. The creek.The kid was in the creek, hanging on to something, getting weaker and weakerGillian was scrambling down the other side of the ridge, slithering, the wet snow adhering to her likelumpy frosting. punk pounding, out of breath, she stood on the bank of the creek. Below her, at the edge, she couldsee slight ice ledges reaching out like petals over the rushing water. sprinkle had frozen like diamonddrops on overhanging grasses.But nothing living. Gillian deadly scanned the surface of the dark water.Are you there? she shouted. Can you hear me?Nothing. Rocks in the water. Branches caught against the rocks. The sound of the rushing creek.Where are you?She couldnt hear the crying anymore. The water was too loud.Maybe the kid had gone under.Gillian leaned out, looking for a wet head, a shape beneath the surface. She leaned out farther.And then-a mistake. Some subtle change of balance. churl under her feet. Her arms were wind-milling, butshe couldnt get her balance backShe was flying. Nothing solid anywhere. Too surprised to be frightened.She hit the water with an snappy shock.