Silence - eARC Read Online Free Page B

I’ve got time, after all.”
    Now they were heading back towards the waterfront; the street was wider, and running downhill again. There were a couple of people out on the street, but they all seemed to be in a hurry to get what they needed to do done and get out. There were a couple of cars out too, parked in front of stores. They were all old models though, and looked as if they hadn’t been washed since the last rain. Like the buildings, they looked faded and tired.
    Another thing; there were wires everywhere. Old-fashioned telephone wires and electrical wires. Every other place Staci had lived, people had started putting wires underground, but not here. And most people she knew didn’t even have landlines anymore, they only had cell phones. But here—big old telephone poles with wires connected everything. To her astonishment, there was even a public telephone box halfway down the street from where they were walking.
    Reflexively, she pulled out her cell phone. Still no bars. She tried to think of what that was going to mean. If I make any friends…I’m going to like, have to wait by the phone if I’m expecting them to call. I can’t text! Oh my god…this is like the Dark Ages!
    Dylan didn’t seem inclined to ask her any more questions, so she asked him one, to get her mind off the disaster her social life was about to become. “That’s a nice bike you’ve got. What kind is it?”
    He laughed, showing very white teeth. “It isn’t. It’s a custom job. I never saw any reason to limit myself to what some ‘brand name’ wants to offer me.” He shrugged. “Besides, there are some places that you go to, a guy sees a brand name bike that he doesn’t like, and he’ll beat you or try to key your ride. People are funny, like that.”
    Her eyes widened at that. “What kind of places do you go, where people do that sort of stuff?”
    Another shrug. “All sorts of places.” He nodded. “Looks like we’re here, kid.”
    They were at the waterfront; across the street from the diner on the corner were the docks. The diner itself—well, people who were all into retro would probably have gone nuts when they saw it, because it was a classic, streamlined, chrome-decorated diner, right out of the 1950s, like so much of this town seemed to be. But if it had ever boasted neon, the bulbs were long since burned out and taken off. Like everything else, it was showing its age, looking shabby and tired. And just as Dylan had said, it had a big white sign on top of it, with a faded blue outline around the edges and faded blue lettering that just said DINER. Staci took a couple of steps toward it, and realized that Dylan wasn’t following her. She turned. He gave her a three-fingered salute and a half-smile. “See you later, kid,” was all he said, and turned to walk away.
    “Wait!”
    Dylan stopped, only half turning to look at her.
    “Um, thanks. For helping me find my way. To here. The diner.”
    “Think nothing of it.” With that, he started to walk off again, closer to the docks.
    She went up the three steps to the door, which had another one of those hanging cardboard OPEN signs on it. She pushed the door open.
    There was a row of small booths on the street side, and a lunch counter. There was one tired-looking man in a faded plaid shirt and dungarees at the far end of the counter nursing a cup of coffee. He didn’t even look up when the bell (another bell!) over the door jangled at her entrance. She didn’t see a waitress, so she figured it was a seat yourself kind of setup.
    She couldn’t help herself; she leaned against the window, watching as Dylan walked down the street. Before he was at the end of the block, a police cruiser had rounded the corner and stopped next to him. An older police officer wearing a wide-brimmed ranger hat stepped out of the car; he looked pissed to Staci. He walked straight up to Dylan, and it looked like he was talking to the younger man angrily, pushing his finger into