The Damned Summer (The Ruin Trilogy) Read Online Free Page A

I
imagine." His father turned, shutting his bedroom door without another
word.
    Frank had stared at his bedroom door for
almost a minute before reaching into his pocket, pulling out the knife. He had
been waiting for his father to come back and get the knife, changing his mind
about giving his son something, anything, much less an item he seemed to value.
His father had carried the switchblade around since he got back from the war like
it was a solid gold pocket watch. Why the hell would he give it to his son who
was about to go out and die. A son he had never really wanted to begin with.
    Frank almost threw it into his desk drawer,
thinking to hell with what his dad wanted, but the feel of the ebony handle
felt solid in his hand. Pulling it up closer to his face, he hit the button.
The blade shot out like a rattlesnake.
    He suddenly understood his father's
fascination with the knife, it was truly a tool for killing and nothing more.
The cross bar at the bottom of the blade pointed upward with the blade, making
them look like miniature tines of a pitchfork, with the blade being the middle
tine.
    "Devil's back up weapon?" he
whispered to himself with a  smile on that long ago night. If only he would
have known the truth of his words.
    So he took it to Nam, thinking it belonged
there more than he did, and his father had been right, it had saved his life
once, but in the process he had lost the knife. That had been fine with him
both at the time as well as now.
    What had once helped steel his nerves for the
war, had started to feel like a scorpion in his pocket. Instead of the knife
helping him to stay strong, it seemed to be draining him, feeding off what
strength reserves he had left. It seemed to be feeding off the jungle as well,
getting heavy with death and misery.
    He slammed the drawer shut, forcing the
memories away as best he could.
    "I think I'm sticking to just tea for
breakfast today, boy," He told Lloyd. "Not in the mood for
toast."
    Lloyd let out a quiet exhale through his
nose. So much for getting a scrap of crust this time.
     
     
    They climbed in the family SUV and made their
way to the local diner for breakfast.
    “You need to get rid of this gas hound,”
Linda said.
    “I need it for the dig,” Steve replied. “Once
that’s over, I’ll downsize.”
    Linda looked at him. “Sure you will.”
    “Yes, I will,” he said with a smile. “I’m
overdue for a mid-life crisis sports car.”
    “Now you're sounding more like yourself,”
Linda said with a sigh.
    “Where we headed?” Steve asked the two women
in his life.
    “The only place in town that serves a decent
breakfast,” Linda replied, looking out the window.
    “Joe’s Cup,” Sarah said from the back seat.
“Best pancakes in the state.”
    “Not too bad of an omelet, either,” Steve added.
    “If you put hot sauce on it, don’t even think
about trying to kiss me,” Linda said with a scowl.
    “Oh, they’ll be hot sauce,” Steve replied
with wiggling eyebrows, as he grabbed her knee. “As well as hot kisses!” he
started tickling his wife’s thigh.
    “Stop!” Linda said with a beautiful laugh.
“Keep your hands on the wheel!”
    Sarah rolled her eyes. “This is almost
obscene.”
     
     
    The aging American native man sat at the
diner, sipping his coffee in solitary silence. He had come to this small town
because his ancestors’ peace was being disturbed. His people were doing
everything they could to stop this trespass but the courts were slow in dealing
out justice, so he had come to speak to the man in charge of this grave
robbing. Perhaps he could speak some sense into this confused teacher.
    It wasn’t until he had reached the area that
he started to understand there was something else stirring here. It floated on
the air like soot and ash from a rancid fire of the burning dead. It tainted
everything, even the coffee he sipped.
    “What have they found?” he asked himself, finishing his coffee and
placing money on the table