It's All Downhill from Here
Page 9
“Is it dead?” Jess called to Alice in a small voice.
“Maybe,” Alice replied grimly.
The other three girls moved closer to look, peering fearfully over the snowbank.
The cat lay unmoving in a pile of slush.
“Let’s get out of here,” said Alice. “I so don’t need to deal with this right now.”
“But what about the cat?” asked Kayla, staring down at it in horror.
“It was probably just a stray,” said Jess. “I agree. Let’s go.”
“It’s wearing a collar,” Kayla pointed out.
“Come on,” said Alice. “My mom said she’d take us to the mall as soon as we got back, and it’s freezing out here.”
The other two girls turned to follow Alice. Kayla stood there. “I’m going to check on the cat,” she said. “I’ll catch up to you in a minute.”
Alice scowled. “Whatever. But hurry up. I can’t guarantee that my mom will wait very long.”
Kayla watched the other three girls hurry away through the swirling, misting snow. After making sure no cars were coming, she stepped gingerly over the snowbank and looked down at the cat. Its body lay stretched out, its head facing her, its limbs sprawled in an awkward, uncatlike way.
She was afraid to touch it. Was it breathing, or was that just the wind stirring its fur? She crouched down. “Sorry, kitty,” she whispered. “I’m sorry about that dumb dog.”
She saw no blood, thank goodness, but then, it would be awfully hard to see blood on a coal-black cat like this one. She grew more certain that it was dead. She looked up at the row of stores. Was anyone looking out the window? Even if they had been, they wouldn’t be able to see the cat’s body, which would be hidden by the bank of snow. She saw no one. She stared back down at the cat.
“I wonder what your name was,” she said sadly. And then, as if to answer her, its eyes flew open.
A lifelong night owl, P. J. Night often works furiously into the wee hours of the morning, writing down spooky tales and dreaming up new stories of the supernatural and otherworldly. Although P. J.’s whereabouts are unknown at this time, we suspect the author lives in a drafty, old mansion where the floorboards creak when no one is there and the flickering candlelight creates shadows that creep along the walls. We truly wish we could tell you more, but we’ve been sworn to keep P. J.’s identity a secret . . . and it’s a secret we will take to our graves!
Simon & Schuster, New York
Cover art by Aly Turner
© 2012 by Simon & Schuster, Inc.
Ages 8–12
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
SIMON SPOTLIGHT
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© 2012 by Simon & Schuster, Inc.
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
SIMON SPOTLIGHT and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
YOU’RE INVITED TO A CREEPOVER is a trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
Text by Michael Teitelbaum
ISBN 978-1-4424-5285-5
ISBN 978-1-4424-5286-2 (eBook)
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number 2012939909