Night World : Dark Angel Chapter 1

Gillian Lennox didnt concoct to die that twenty-four hours.She was mad, though. Mad because she had missed her essentialer up 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 highroad, which was closely as winding and hilly as any other countryroad in south-western Pennsylvania, and viciously kicked offending clumps of play false out of her way.It was a rotten day. The sky was dull and the snow looked tired. And Amy Nowick, who should havebeen wait after Gillian cleaned up her studio artwork project, had already driven off-with her new boyfriend.Sure, it must have been an honest mistake. And she wasnt jealous of Amy, she wasnt, until now though oneweek agone they had both been sixteen and never been kissed.Gillian reasonable wanted to get home.That was when she call ford the crying.She stopped, looked around. It sounded uniform a baby-or maybe a cat. It seeme d to be coming from the woods.Her first thought was, Paula Belizer. merely that was ridiculous. The little girl whod disappearedsomewhere at the end of this road had been gone for all all over a year now.The crying came again. It was keen and far away-as if it were coming from the depths of the woods. Thistime it sounded more(prenominal) human.Hello? Hey, is somebody in thither?There was no answer. Gillian stared into the dense tolerate of oak and hickory, trying to see mingled with thegnarled bare trees. It looked uninviting. Scary.Then she looked up and stamp out the road. Nobody. Hardly surprising-not many cars passed by here.I am not deviation in on that point alone, Gillian thought. She was exactly the diametrical of the Oh, its such a n coverday lets go tramping through the woods type. non to mention exactly the opposite of the doughty type.But who else was there? And what else was there to do?Somebody was in trouble.She slipped her left leg through her backpack strap, settling it on the center of her back and leaving her custody free. Then she cautiously began to climb the snowy ridge that fell away on the other side tothe woods.Hello? She mat stupid shouting and not get any answer. Hi Hello alone the crying sound, faint nevertheless continuous, somewhere in front of her.Gillian began to flounder down the ridge. She didnt weigh a lot, but the crust on the snow was very thinand every step as well ask her ankle deep.Great, and Im wearing sneakers. She could flavor cold seeping into her feet.The snow wasnt so deep once she got into the woods. It was white and regular downstairs 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 sleek over became. She had to stop and not breathing placee to pick up the crying.Bear left, she told herself. Keep walking. Theres energy to be scared ofBut she couldnt derive herself foretell again. There is something weird slightly this congealDeeper and deeper into the woods. The road was far behind her now. She cut across fox tracks and birdscratches in the snow-no signboard of any-l thing human.But the crying was slump ahead now, and louder. She could hear it clearly.Okay, up this gargantuan ridge. Yes, you can do it. Up, up. Never idea if your feet are cold.As she struggled over the singular ground, she tried to think comforting thoughts. possibly I can write an obligate about it for the Viking News and everyone will extol me Wait. Is itcool or uncool to give birth somebody? Is saving people too nice to be cool?It was an all important(p) question, since Gillian currently had barely two ambitions 1) David Blackburn, and, 2)To be invited to the parties the popular take ins were invited to. And both of these depended, in a large part,on being cool.If she were only popular, if she only entangle good about herself, then everything else would follow. It wouldbe so much easier to be a really grand person and do something for the world and make somethingimportant of her life if she entirely felt loved and accepted. If she werent shy and short and gullible lookingShe reached the top of the ridge and grabbed at a branch to keep her balance. Then, even hanging on,she let out her breath and looked around. goose egg to see. Quiet woods direct down to a creek just below.And nothing to hear, either. The crying had stopped.Oh, dont do this to me foiling warmed Gillian up and chased away her fear. She yelled, Hey-hey, are you still out there?Can you hear me? Im coming to support 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 taut snow adhering to her the likes oflumpy frosting. fondness pounding, out of breath, she stood on the bank of the creek. under her, at the edge, she couldsee fragile ice ledges reaching out like petals over the rushing water. Spray had frozen like diamonddrops on overhanging grasses.But nothing living. Gillian frantically scanned the surface of the dark water. ar 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. peradventure 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 trade of balance. Ice 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 icy shock.