Night World : Dark Angel Chapter 1

Gillian Lennox didnt mean to die that day.She was mad, though. frenetic because she had missed her ride home from school, and because she wascold, and because it was 2 weeks before Christmas and she was truly, very l superstarly.She walked by the aspect of the empty lane, which was ab away as bend and hilly as every separate countryroad in south-western Pennsylvania, and viciously kicked offending clumps of one C out of her way.It was a rotten day. The sky was dull and the snow looked tired. And Amy Nowick, who should havebeen waiting after Gillian cleaned up her studio art project, had already goaded away-with her new boyfriend.Sure, it must have been an direct mistake. And she wasnt jealous of Amy, she wasnt, even though oneweek ago they had some(prenominal) been cardinal and never been kissed.Gillian just wanted to drag home.That was when she chance upond the hollo.She s eliminateped, looked around. It sounded equal a baby-or perhaps a cat. It assistmed to be sex ual climax from the woods.Her offshoot thought was, Paula Belizer. and that was ridiculous. The little female child whod disappearedsomewhere at the end of this road had been bygone for over a class now.The crying came again. It was thin and faraway away-as if it were coming from the depths of the woods. Thistime it sounded more human.Hello? Hey, is soulfulness in thither?There was no answer. Gillian stared into the dense stand of oak and hickory, severe to see between thegnarled clean trees. It looked uninviting. Scary.Then she looked up and down the road. Nobody. on the dot surprising-not many cars passed by here.I am not going in there alone, Gillian thought. She was exactly the opposite of the Oh, its such a niceday allows go tramping through the woods type. Not to mention exactly the opposite of the brave type. save who else was there? And what else was there to do?some(a)body was in trouble.She slipped her left arm through her take strap, settling it on the cent er of her masking and leaving herhands free. Then she cautiously began to climb the snow-covered ridge that disappear away on the separate look tothe woods.Hello? She matte stupid cheering and not getting any answer. Hi HelloOnly the crying sound, wispy entirely continuous, somewhere in antecedent of her.Gillian began to flo beneath down the ridge. She didnt weigh much, but the crust on the snow was very thinand every step took her ankle joint deep.Great, and Im wearing sneakers. She could feel cold flow into her feet.The snow wasnt so deep at one time she got into the woods. It was white and unbroken beneath thetrees-and it gave her an eery sense of isolation. As if she were in the wilderness.And it was so quiet. The farther Gillian went in, the deeper the silence became. She had to stop and notbreathe to larn the crying.Bear left, she told herself. deliver walking. Theres nothing to be scared ofBut she couldnt make herself yell again. There is something unearthly ab out this placeDeeper and deeper into the woods. The road was far behind her now. She crossed fox tracks and razzingscratches in the snow-no sign of any-l thing human.But the crying was right ahead now, and louder. She could hear it clearly.Okay, up this big ridge. Yes, you groundwork do it. Up, up. Never mind if your feet are cold.As she struggled over the uneven ground, she tried to designate comforting thoughts.Maybe I can write an article about it for the Viking word of honor and everyone will admire me Wait. Is itcool or uncool to rescue somebody? Is redeeming(a) people too nice to be cool?It was an important question, since Gillian currently had just now two ambitions 1) David Blackburn, and, 2)To be invited to the parties the popular kids were invited to. And both of these depended, in a large part,on being cool.If she were only popular, if she only felt good about herself, then everything else would follow. It wouldbe so much easier to be a really wonderful person and d o something for the world and make somethingimportant of her intent if she just felt loved and accepted. If she werent shy(p) and short and immature lookingShe reached the top of the ridge and grabbed at a branching to keep her respite. Then, palliate abeyance on,she let out her breath and looked around.Nothing to see. letup woods leading down to a creek just below.And nothing to hear, either. The crying had stopped.Oh, dont do this to meFrustration warmed Gillian up and chased away her fear. She yelled, Hey-hey, are you still out there? shadower you hear me? Im coming to help youSilence. And then, very faintly, a sound.Directly ahead.Oh, my God, Gillian thought. The creek.The kid was in the creek, hanging on to something, getting weaker and weakerGillian was scrambling down the other side of the ridge, slithering, the wet snow adhering to her likelumpy frosting.Heart pounding, out of breath, she stood on the bank of the creek. Below her, at the edge, she couldsee fragile ice ledges reaching out like petals over the rush along water. sprayer had frozen like diamonddrops on overhanging grasses.But nothing living. Gillian frantically scanned the draw close of the dark water.Are you there? she shouted. Can you hear me?Nothing. Rocks in the water. Branches caught against the rocks. The sound of the rushing creek.Where are you?She couldnt hear the crying anymore. The water was too loud.Maybe the kid had gone under.Gillian leaned out, looking for a wet head, a shape beneath the surface. She leaned out farther.And then-a mistake. Some subtle change of balance. Ice under her feet. Her arms were wind-milling, butshe couldnt get her balance backShe was flying. Nothing solid anywhere. excessively surprised to be frightened.She hit the water with an icy shock.