Exorcist Road Read Online Free Page B

and toward whatever awaited us in Casey Hartman’s room.

Chapter Three
     
    We entered the bedroom in silence.
    When Liz and Ron and the two officers moved aside to allow us passage, I got my first look at Casey Hartman.
    My first impression was that he looked like a sleeping child.
    Father Sutherland and I stepped closer, and then, with a slight bow, Sutherland extended an arm, making it clear I was to take a position at the boy’s bedside.
    “What do you notice?” Father Sutherland asked me.
    I studied the boy. He had his mother’s delicate features but his father’s shaggy, black hair. There were no blankets or sheets covering him. I wondered fleetingly if they’d been torn or even bloodied in the tussle. I studied Casey’s body. The bare feet. The long, spidery legs. The red boxer briefs and white T-shirt. The arms were as long and willowy as the legs. I took a step closer and noticed the blood on the boy’s knuckles. I realized I was having trouble breathing, a fetid warmth having pervaded the bedroom.
    I looked at Liz. “Is this room normally so hot?”
    She shook her head.
    “It was like this earlier,” Danny said. “I don’t know if it has something to do with what’s happening or not.”
    I didn’t either. In all my studies, the temperature changes that sometimes accompanied demonic possession resulted in frigid temperatures, not tropical ones. I realized I’d begun to sweat.
    “Father Crowder?” Sutherland said beside me.
    I cleared my throat. “His knuckles are bruised, abraded. That seems to dovetail with the account we’ve been given by Officers Hartman and Bittner, though I expected the injuries to be more severe.”
    Bittner mumbled something, but I went on. “Casey appears to be sleeping, though his expression is troubled. His respiration seems labored too.” I frowned. “One of his eyes is puffy. And his bottom lip is busted open.”
    I glanced at Bittner, who rolled his eyes in irritation. “You weren’t here, Crowder. It was all I could do to stop the kid from killing us.”
    Sutherland took out a handkerchief and mopped his forehead. “Do you mind if I have a look at the child, Father Crowder?”
    I receded from my place at the child’s bedside, secretly relieved to have some distance between us. Because the sight of the unmoving child on the bed so disturbed me, I took a moment to study the young man’s bedroom. Tan walls, ivory trim. Two large windows with light-blocking curtains. A red baseball-bat bag leaned in the corner; three aluminum handles jutted out. There were posters of sports cars flanking the bed. A cloth reproduction of the Beatles’ Abbey Road album cover over the ivory headboard. I decided the boy had great taste in music.
    There was what appeared to be an autographed picture of LeBron James hanging on the wall between Casey’s bedroom windows. Ron noticed me studying it and grunted. “Season tickets to the Bulls, and the kid roots for LeBron. You believe that?”
    Father Sutherland moved closer and placed his thumb and forefinger on either side of the boy’s wrist. “His pulse is slow but regular. Whatever caused him to behave the way he did earlier seems dormant now.”
    I thought this a terribly obvious statement but kept the opinion to myself.
    “Aren’t you going to do any tests?” Ron asked.
    Without looking up, Sutherland said, “Of course we are. But I wonder if you and your wife should remain in the room…should things go unexpectedly.”
    Ron folded his arms. “I’m not going anywhere.” He nodded at Bittner. “Not with this gorilla in here. You ask me, he was twice as rough as he needed to be with Casey.”
    Before Bittner could contradict this, Danny said, “It’s okay, Ronnie. I’ll make sure Casey’s looked after.”
    Ron gave his little brother a dead look. “Forgive me for not being reassured. You don’t exactly have the best track record.”
    Danny looked stung.
    Ron eyed his brother without pity. “You know, I’d have