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Book One: The Boy In the Black Coat
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Outside Zac’s bedroom window, exactly 63 feet up a large oak tree, was a very cold, very wet John Gervais. |
He’d found a crook in the branches where he could recline back, but even with his hood pulled down and his legs pulled up, he’d been thoroughly drenched over the last few hours and was now shivering uncontrollably. A wiser person would’ve gone home long ago, but since John suffered from what his mother called “a shocking lack of common sense,” he’d chosen to scratch his way up a tree and sit in the cold watching a relative stranger’s home for reasons which both confused and fascinated him. Of course, observing a mostly empty house had been a boring occupation up until the moment Zac stood bare-chested at his bedroom window peering out into the night. John knew it was impossible that he could be seen among the tree’s foliage, but there were a few seconds when it seemed like — well — like Zac did see him. Maybe it was the way he had tilted his head a little to the right? Or maybe the way he frowned slightly? The exhilaration of those seconds, of feeling like he might be discovered, had suddenly made the whole ordeal worthwhile. He had just decided to stay in the tree until Zac’s father came home when his cell phone buzzed inside his coat.
The text was from his mother: JOHN WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU??? GET HOME ASAP!!
He looked back toward Zac’s window. The bedroom lights were now out, but John could easily see the boy’s face and shoulders propped up on a pile of pillows and bathed in the cold blue flicker of a television screen.
A second later the phone buzzed again. JOHN, I KNOW YOURE IGNORING ME BUT I REALLY MEAN IT! HOME! NOW!
He cursed quietly to himself and tucked the phone back into a pocket.
The cold had left his legs numb but he managed to negotiate himself to the end of a branch, and then stretching his arms out to each side, leaped off into the darkness. His body fluttered as gently as a leaf, barely stirring any of the foliage as it threaded through trees and down the hillside. When his feet hit the ground next to where he’d hidden the black Eclipse by the side of the road, there was no sound whatsoever.
The text was from his mother: JOHN WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU??? GET HOME ASAP!!
He looked back toward Zac’s window. The bedroom lights were now out, but John could easily see the boy’s face and shoulders propped up on a pile of pillows and bathed in the cold blue flicker of a television screen.
A second later the phone buzzed again. JOHN, I KNOW YOURE IGNORING ME BUT I REALLY MEAN IT! HOME! NOW!
He cursed quietly to himself and tucked the phone back into a pocket.
The cold had left his legs numb but he managed to negotiate himself to the end of a branch, and then stretching his arms out to each side, leaped off into the darkness. His body fluttered as gently as a leaf, barely stirring any of the foliage as it threaded through trees and down the hillside. When his feet hit the ground next to where he’d hidden the black Eclipse by the side of the road, there was no sound whatsoever.
