Grants Pass Read Online Free Page A

still-mourning ravens. “I’m Australian. I saved up my money for
a few years to be able to come here. I’m a songwriter, thought I could make it
here.”
    “ Well,” I
said, arching one eyebrow in a practiced coy smile. “There’s a lot less
competition here now, sugar.”
    He stared at me for a moment before
laughing. “That’s true, I guess. You’re from here?”
    I nodded. “For the last decade,
anyway.”
    “ What did
you do for a living?”
    I looked down at my shoes, the
leather now scratched. “Oh, this and that,” I said. I don’t know why I didn’t
tell him. As I said, I wasn’t ashamed. “Nothing now.” As the words left my
lips, the ravens abruptly fell silent, turning as one to gaze at us.
    “ Quoth the
raven, nevermore,” he said, lips curving into a half-smile again. “I’m Lucas.”
    I noted the lack of a last name and
decided to follow suit. “Sarah.”
    He held out his hand, and feeling
slightly ridiculous, I shook it. His fingers were cool and dry. “I have a place
that I’ve set up,” he said. “You want to come back there with me?”
    I shrugged, my hand still in his.
“Why not? It’s not like I have anywhere else to go.” As we left the park, we
heard the ravens begin their mourning song again.
     
    ****
     
    His place consisted of the lobby
of a tiny hotel, the neon sign gone to darkness. One of the glass entry doors
had been smashed; he put a piece of cardboard up in its place after we entered.
The lights in the dusty chandelier were glowing reluctantly, flickering as the
electricity waxed and waned.
    I felt a surge of hope at the sight
of those lights. “The electricity is still on. That means that there must be
someone still alive.”
    “ I think the
plants can keep running for a while unmanned,” Lucas said. “It’s been cutting
in and out for a while, and I guess it’ll go out for good soon. I have plenty
of candles and torches and stuff.”
    In the dim light, I saw boxes and
plastic bags stacked up around the sides of the room. Lucas led me past them to
a small office at the back of the lobby. There were no lights on inside, and it
took me a moment to recognize the black chitinous items piled within. Guns. He
pulled the weapon from his trousers and added it to the pile before closing the
door firmly again, locking it with a key that he pulled from the pocket of his
jeans.
    “ What are
you going to do with all of those?” I asked.
    He turned to me, the dim lights
flickering like flames in his eyes. “Like I said, who knows who’s left out
there? There are people like the raven killer, gone insane. I’d rather have
them here. Protection.” He began opening some of the boxes lined up against the
wall. “You like Spam? I hope so, because I have cartons of it.”
    “ I’ll eat
it.”
    He gathered up a few cans, placing
them on top of the teetering boxes before turning to a pile of plastic bags.
“It’s lucky that I found a camping store,” he said, his voice muffled. He came
up with two sleeping bags, still rolled in their cases. “We’re gonna need these
when night sets in.” He threw one to me; I was glad to see that it was a
single. “I have some air mattresses here as well. I’ll set them up after we
eat.” He ducked down again, coming up this time with a loaf of bread and
six-pack of beer.
    We made rough sandwiches with the
bread and Spam, pulling chunks from the loaf with our fingers. Though Lucas had
managed to amass many essentials, it seemed that he had neglected cutlery. I
ate slowly, forcing the greasy mass down my throat with swigs of beer.
    Lucas finished his food quickly, and
was starting on his third warm beer when I finished eating. “You usually wear
shoes like that?”
    I looked down at the Guccis. “Yeah,
why?”
    “ You’re not
going to be able to run around for long in them. They’re already blistering
your heels.”
    Easing one shoe away from my foot, I
saw that he was right. A row of angry red blisters dotted my