Back Black Ambrosia Save as PDF
Chapters (46)
  1. CoverImage
  2. Introduction by Grady Hendrix
  3. Acknowledgments
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. About the Author
  46. About the Cover

To knock my way out would alert the whole household. Furthermore, it was questionable whether I would be able to free myself. The construction seemed competent. The box was solid. Then again, if I made enough noise, surely the parents would come and release me. No. Daniel would convince them otherwise, and then I would have more to deal with than just Daniel. I could deal with Daniel if he was alone.

I tried the music, but the box yielded neither to the strains of melody nor to my lack of substance. I was still entirely solid, just vague in appearance when the music soared.

I tried to locate Daniel and force him, by way of the music, to come to me, to release me, but there was no one home. I searched throughout the house; there was not a heartbeat, not a breath, not a living cell in the building.

Daniel had outsmarted me. He had taken advantage of my weakness and gained the upper hand. He would pay. He would pay.

I gave the wood one solid kick in frustration and winced at the loud noise reverberating in the closed space. It would be impossible to escape. Reluctantly I settled back to wait, bringing my hands to my chest in the most comfortable resting position. The crucifix lay there, cold on my chest. I toyed with it, feeling the little golden chain, running my thumbnail over the cross-hatching on the front.

Fury felt the same.

The boy would pay.

“The kid disappeared before I could get to him. No one else seemed to have seen him—at least no one else could tell me who he was. After the meeting at the fairgrounds, everybody seemed pretty heated up; we told them to all go home and check their fruit cellars and garages and the trunks of old rusted-out cars. She had to be hiding somewhere. That helped to diffuse their mob-style agitation. It gave them something active to do instead of dwelling on their impotency. I went back to the mayor’s house, where we’d set up a kind of temporary headquarters.

“Just before sundown, as the streetlights of the town were beginning to come on, families started to congregate together for safety. We set up shelters in the schools and churches. Nobody was to stay at home. The children laughed and played, thinking this mass slumber party was a celebration, while the adults clung together in fear so physical it had scent.