In The Falling Light Read Online Free Page B

That was a lot of
stairs, but he supposed she could, he had seen her walking
virtually unassisted outdoors. But why the ladder? The shelf would
only come to her waist, there’d be no need for it, and she probably
couldn’t climb it anyway.
    Something bit deeply into his right ankle,
and Cesar screamed, spinning, dropping the flashlight. It rolled to
the base of the vault and stopped, the beam at floor level. A
stuffed animal, a bear with patches of fur missing, was attached to
his ankle, biting – biting? – deep into his flesh. He tried
to kick it free but it hung on, small paws raking red furrows in
his shin as it clawed for a better hold. Cesar shook his leg
wildly, his breath coming fast, and then there was a metallic
squeak and a new pain, this one sharper, his other ankle, a deep
slice into the tendon. He screamed and had a moment to see a small
figure beside him, something a foot tall and wearing a black cone
for a hat, closing a long, gleaming pair of sewing scissors. Then
his severed tendon took him to the floor.
    “ Eeeeeeee!” A high-pitched screaming
came from all around as small shapes leaped upon him from atop
boxes and furniture, landing and sinking nails and teeth into his
hands and thighs and cheeks. He kicked out, hitting the flashlight
and making it roll, and in the crazy white light he saw dolls and
puppets and more stuffed animals, all old and worn from long-ago
use. They were stitched and patched, missing eyes and limbs, but
the eyes they did have blazed with a silvery light, and their
mouths were filled with tiny, sharp teeth. They shrieked and
squealed as they covered him, biting and biting.
    The scissors plunged into his left thigh,
and Cesar screamed again, arching his back like a wrestler on the
wooden floor, the toys hanging on like obscene cowboys in a hellish
rodeo. Cesar saw the thing with the scissors, a doll twelve inches
high with a black cone hat, tiny black beads for eyes. It was
grinning with evil little teeth. He recognized it, the toy which
Rosie had been playing with as a child in the photo.
    This is me with Pumpkin.
    Pumpkin yanked out the bloody scissors with
two hands, then drove them in over his head like a whaler with a
harpoon, burying them to the handles in Cesar’s belly just above
his left hip. He gasped, eyes snapping wide as it pierced flesh and
then organs. A dark jet of liquid spurted onto the vault door,
spattering the grinning doll. It looked into his face with its
silvery eyes and snickered.
    Cesar tore the creatures off his face, and
they took away bites of his flesh as they went. He pounded his
fists at them, forcing them off, but they came right back, biting
anew. He thrashed, his impressive strength sending toys flying,
crushing several, ripping others apart with his hands. He was
screaming nonstop now, his wails rising and falling, and he flipped
to his stomach and started crawling. They leaped upon him, and he
felt the scissors stab into one butt cheek, missing his scrotum by
an inch. His only thought now was survival, safety. He saw a huge
steamer trunk standing open in the gloom not far away, big enough
for a man, big enough for him. He fast-crawled to it, leaving a
bloody trail, then turned and began slapping and pulling madly at
the dozens of toy creatures still biting at him. He threw them, he
twisted off their heads, he pounded them with his big fists. With a
last kick at a china doll with a fractured face, he heaved himself
into the trunk and pulled it closed with a thump, landing in a thin
layer of old dresses that smelled of mothballs. His searching hands
found a pair of garment straps set in the interior of the lid, and
he pulled down on them, hanging on to keep the trunk closed.
    “ Eeeeeeeee!” A chorus of tiny shrieks
from outside the trunk as dozens of little fists began pounding the
walls in fury.
    Cesar realized he was screaming, and forced
himself to shut up. His breathing was ragged, his body afire with
pain, and the deepest wound of all,