The Broken
The Skia Chronicles
Book 1
by Sean Michael Frawley
Book design and cover art by Dale Johnson Camera Photo: ? Stockbyte/Thinkstock
Editing by Sheila Tait, Kim Sheard, and Jane Till
Table of Contents
Chapter 1: Cookies and Arson
Chapter 2: Shadows Don't Tear, They Blend
Chapter 3: An Empty Wall
Chapter 4: A Cut, a Noise, an Omen
Chapter 5: The Night I Killed My Mother
Chapter 6: The Drive By
Chapter 7: The Visitor
Chapter 8: Behind the Wall
Chapter 9: Crap Bucket
Chapter 10: You've Got Mail
Chapter 11: Down the Rabbit Hole
Chapter 12: Why Does the Dark Move?
Chapter 13: Tittywinks
Chapter 14: The Hatch
Chapter 15: Twins
Chapter 16: The Pedestrian
Chapter 17: Sending Up the Fuzz
Chapter 18: Panch
Chapter 19: A Cruel Twist of Fade
Chapter 20: Who Let the Dog Out?
Chapter 21: The Woodpecker
Chapter 22: A Pile of Death
Chapter 23: Psycho Path and Presidential
Chapter 24: Apology and a Monster
Chapter 25: The Fortune Cookie
Chapter 26: A New Development
Chapter 27: Moving Dark
Chapter 28: A Picture of What's to Come
Chapter 29: A Four-Year-Old Prophet
Chapter 30: You Will Bleed
Chapter 31: I Never Said It Was Magical
Chapter 32: The Broken Man
Chapter 33: Fangs in the Shadows
Chapter 34: The Face in the Mirror
Chapter 35: Death of a Friend
Chapter 36: Reality Check
Chapter 37: Mom
Chapter 38: A Journal
Chapter 39: A Pissed-Off Polar Bear
Chapter 40: A Nosy Neighbor
Chapter 41: I Forgot My Keys
Chapter 42: Just the Facts
Chapter 43: Raythuse
Chapter 44: The Gift of a Neighbor
Chapter 45: All Packed
Chapter 46: Dead Moushe
Chapter 47: Someone Has to Go
Chapter 48: Is There a Good Way to Die?
Chapter 49: A Possessed Maniac
Chapter 50: Whom to Trust
Chapter 51: In the Bathroom
Chapter 52: A Score to Settle
Chapter 53: Think Happy Thoughts
Chapter 54: Time to Run
Chapter 55: Beginning of the End
Chapter 56: The Reunion
Three Months Later:
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
1
Cookies and Arson
Fire licked the air, greedily devouring the night sky. The punishing intensity of the blaze would have pushed most sensible people back, out of harm's way. The knowledge that someone might still be trapped inside the bakery would have sent a hero crashing through the front door. Link Hartkins was neither sensible nor heroic, so he stood where he was and watched the building burn.
A sudden scream from the building stabbed the night, but Link was powerless to react. His feet might as well have been nailed to the ground with three-foot spikes, because he couldn't move. His skin grew hot and began to sting as smoke spilled deeper into his chest with every breath. A loud banging interrupted the fading scream.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
With the painful throbbing of his blood being brought to a boil, it was hard to tell if the sound was real or imagined. Maybe there was still time to save someone. He scrutinized the place where the sound had come. As he did, he sputtered into violent fits of coughing and started to panic.
He had to do something. He wiped his eyes with the end of a sleeve. Summoning all his strength, he dragged his right foot forward a few inches. Link raised his head and squinted in the direction of the noise. A monstrous crash from the other side of the building distracted him as a portion of the roof collapsed.
The invisible wall of heat that had been steadily building pushed him back. Was it possible that somebody was alive in there? Even from this distance, Link's skin felt ready to blister. Maybe he had only imagined the thumping. He coughed again, this time finding it impossible to stop. Hunched over, hugging his chest in agony, he heard the easy, melodic singing of a little girl. With his body still bent, he rotated his head to see white, bulging eyes the size of onions pop from the inky blackness of a shadowy silhouette. The figure, seemingly unaffected by the flames, casually lifted her hand and waved in his direction.
Link collapsed to his knees. From stolen glimpses between coughs, he watched in horror as the silhouette stretched and bent in every direction, at crazy, impossible angles. Within seconds, the shadow blotted out the fire entirely and surrounded the bakery in a shroud of night. But Link felt the heat. He knew the fire still raged behind the darkness.
Off in the distance, sirens began to wail. The unexpected sound yanked Link from his trance. Instantly, the fire reappeared to punish the weakened structure with a relentless fury. He rubbed his eyes in confusion. Where had the shadow gone?
He heard the knocking again. Only this time it was accompanied by the eerie giggling of a little child. He glanced back at the window and saw the shadowy figure had returned. Though small once again, it still stared at him with those devilish, onion eyes. Link pulled himself to his feet and staggered backwards.
The sirens grew louder. He looked out over the hilly landscape and saw bobbing headlights off in the distance. Link knew he couldn't be caught here. The police would have too many questions about how the fire started. Questions that he couldn't answer... not in a way they'd believe.
Lincoln Hartkins cast one final glance toward the bakery. Then he threw the lighter to the ground and began to run as if his life depended on it.
Which, of course...
It did.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
"Get the door, Lincoln," his father called from the upstairs bathroom.
Link shook his head to help the world around him drift back into focus. He took a few deep breaths to steady the rapid beating of his heart and flinched when a small hand touched his arm. He looked down to find his baby brother, Ayden, normally bouncy and carefree, eyeing him with obvious concern. Without saying a word, Ayden tilted his head and squeezed Link's arm.
Link forced an uncomfortable smile and ruffled the brown tangle of his brother's hair. "Stop your worrying, Bug. I'm fine. Just spacing again. No big deal."
Ayden nodded but appeared unconvinced. He may have only been four years old, and there was no question his language development lagged behind most kids his age, but his understanding of things never ceased to amaze Link.
There was another loud series of knocks at the front door.
Ayden's eyes narrowed with suspicion when Link jumped in surprise. A spoon clattered to the floor.
Link froze. He stared fearfully at the front door, visions of the fire still fresh in his mind. He bent over to retrieve the spoon. Then he wiped it between thumb and forefinger and plunged it into his bowl of cereal.
"Lincoln-Amoeba-Hartkins," his father called from upstairs, "What are you waiting for? Answer the door."
Link knew he needed to pull himself together. He couldn't let his dad find out he'd been having daymares. He'd have Link in therapy again for sure. And Link couldn't allow that. This was a new town, a fresh start. He wasn't about to let the rumors about his sanity follow him here, even if the visions had.
Still, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the image of that little girl with those onion eyes waving at him from the fla
mes. Even the knowledge that he was acting mental didn't prevent him from gingerly tapping the iron doorknob a few times to make sure it wasn't hot.
When he opened the door, he discovered a teenage girl with flashy, hazel eyes, wearing large hoop earrings and a short stack of beaded hemp necklaces. She had two short pigtails and a bouncy sort of smile that made Link feel nauseous.
"What do you want?" Link said.
Still smiling, the girl said, "Is that any way to answer the door? What if I was a wandering god? Or an angel in need of help? What if I was here to announce that you were the next million dollar sweepstakes winner?"
"Are you?"
She rolled her eyes. "You're missing the point, silly. Here." She reached for the doorknob and began pulling it shut. "Maybe you should try again. This time come out with a smile and say something like, 'Good morning, beautiful neighbor whom I have never met before. You have remarkable eyes.'" Once the door had closed, she shoved it back open and beamed at him expectantly.
Link returned her stare but not her smile. Was this girl for real?
"I see that you are understandably speechless," she said. "You probably don't even know where to start."
Link nodded. That was indeed what he was, though he doubted it was for the same reason the girl believed it to be.
A minute passed in awkward silence. Finally Link reached into his back pocket and removed his wallet. "How much?"
"For my eyes?" The girl looked confused, but she quickly recovered. She giggled nervously and said, "Oh, you mean the box of cookies I'm holding, don't you? I'm not selling them. I brought these little bites of goodness as a gift because I don't bake. Did you seriously think I was in the Girl Scouts? If you ask me, which I know you
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