The 13th Horseman Read Online Free Page A

scooped the cat up. He held it at arm’s length, his face turned away. The stench was almost unbearable. “I didn’t want to do this, but you’ve forced my— Hey!”
    With a sudden jerk of its head, the cat’s rotten teeth clamped round the ten-pound note in Drake’s hand. The animal’s frail body twisted in Drake’s grip, and then it was on the ground, the money still held in its mouth.
    “Give that back!” Drake cried, as the cat scampered off round the side of the house. Drake gave chase, squeezing past the bins and the cardboard boxes that filled the little alley leading from the front garden to the back.
    With a rustle, the cat vanished into the long grass at the rear of the house. Drake plunged in after it. There was no way he was letting that cat run away with his pizza money.
    He pushed through the tangle of weeds and bracken, calling out as he ran. “Get back here. Get back here now!”
    Drake was halfway along the garden when the instinct to give chase abruptly faded. He swished to a stop in a particularly dense patch of jungle.
    What was he doing? He’d come running into the garden alone. Running into the area where he’d seen the shed and the three strange men in it. He’d been so focused on catching the cat and getting his money back that he’d forgotten all about it.
    He listened for the cat, but heard nothing. It had probably already left the garden. His money would be long gone.
    Slowly, so as not to draw any more attention to himself, Drake turned round and made a move back towards his house. The weeds opened like a theatre curtain as he shoved his way through.
    A chill breeze danced across his skin as he stepped into a neatly kept clearing. Toxie sat on the closely cropped lawn, his tail thumping happily on the grass, the ten-pound note still held in his mouth.
    Behind the cat, the shed creaked ominously in the wind.

T HE TALL GRASS and weeds whipped at Drake as he high-tailed it away from the clearing. His heart thudded in his chest like a bongo drum made of terror as he frantically tried to put as much distance between himself and the shed as he possibly could. Were the men still inside? More importantly, had they heard him? One thing was for certain: he wasn’t sticking around to find out.
    With a gasp he leaped from the grass, expecting to land on the uneven concrete of the back step. Instead his feet found themselves touching down once more on neatly cropped lawn. The shed stood before him, exactly as it had done a few moments ago. He’d gone round in a circle.
    He turned and surged back into the jungle of weeds. How could he have been so stupid? He wouldn’t let it happen again. Fixing his eyes on the house, Drake made a beeline straight for it.
    A few moments later he spilled out into the clearing. Toxie gave a happy yelp as Drake skidded to a halt on the grass. This was wrong. This was all wrong! Trembling with panic, Drake spun on his heels and darted back towards the high weeds. The men in the shed could be wanted criminals for all he knew. Murderers. Possibly even cannibals, judging by the size of the fat one. He had to get away.
    “Haw, pal, you’re wasting your time,” boomed a voice from behind him. Drake’s stomach bunched into a tight knot of fear and he propelled himself into the head-high undergrowth, not daring to look back. The weeds seemed to work against him, tangling and grabbing at him as he ran.
    When he emerged into the clearing for the fourth time it didn’t come as any great surprise. His legs and arms ached, his hands and face were covered in insect bites – even breathing was proving painful. The way he felt right now, death would almost come as a relief.
    “Told you,” said the bearded giant who stood in the clearing. He was casually running a large brick along the length of an enormous sword, spraying the grass with little orange sparks. “Now, you can try running again, but you’ll only end up back here, and I’m getting fed up of hanging around