Unbreakable Rules (Too Many Rules Book 3) Read Online Free
Author: G.L. Snodgrass
on its butt end pointing towards the ceiling, reflecting a pale white light into the room. It seemed to be the last piece of modern civilization to still work. "Why?"
"So I can finish reading," Mark answered as if it were a stupid question.
"No way, just sit there and wait. It should only be a minute or two."
We sat and waited.
The boredom was threatening, hanging over my head like a big knife. I retrieved my cell phone off the workbench and checked. No bars. That was strange. The Cell towers had a backup generator. They should have been working. A sick, worried feeling passed through my bones. I tried dialing my mom but got nothing. Not even a dial tone.
"Enough of this crap. I need to check on Amanda," I said as I snatched the flashlight off the table and marched up the basement stairs. Each step stomping.
"Hey, wait up," Mark said as he scrambled to stay close to the light. "It's not like the lights going out are going to bug her."
"Jesus, you can be such a jerk."
The basement door opened into the kitchen. Our house was second generation suburbia. The first generation had bought the houses in the seventies, raised their children, sent them off to college, and then sold out to the newcomers who would repeat the process.
Built on the outskirt of a logging town, it had been the lost dream of some politician or chamber of commerce official. Instead, it had become something of a joke. Twenty-four houses sitting on a cul-de-sac in the forest. You could still find signs where they'd laid sewer lines for the future expansion. An expansion that never happened.
The town itself had never grown to meet up with the housing development, leaving several miles of forest and rugged wilderness between them. It wasn't rural, but close enough.
The main thing was that it had high-speed cable. That's all I cared about.
The basement door opened into the kitchen and the dining room beyond.
"Amanda," I yelled at the top of my lungs. A heavy silence greeted me. Shaking my head, I reached the bottom of the regular stairs and yelled again.
She was probably upstairs in her room listening to her music. Racing up the stairs with Mark on my heels I banged on her door three times. Loud enough to pierce through whatever it was she was listening to.
"What?" a soft feminine voice demanded.
My heart started beating again in relief as I opened the door, shining the week flashlight beam on my sister. She was laying on her bed, her hands tucked behind her neck.
Her head turned to follow my movement across the room. Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt she looked like any other fifteen-year-old girl until you saw her eyes. They weren't strange or deformed. Just slow to track what was going on around her. They always seemed to be a split second behind.
Mark halted at her door. He better. Amanda would skin us both alive if Mark stepped into her room.
"The power's out," I said.
She frowned for a moment, "So?"
"The lights are out," Mark said from the doorway.
Her head whipped to the side. I could tell she was placing Mark into her reference points and making sure he was still outside her room. Sitting up she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and removed her headphones, gently placing them into their normal spot on her bedside table.
"Again. So?" she said with a soft smile. "Welcome to my world guys."
My heart turned over. I really could never understand what my sister's life was like.
"I just thought you should know," I said as we made our way downstairs. "Where does Mom keep the candles?"
"In the junk drawer in the kitchen," Amanda said. She was the resident expert on the location of all items in the house.
I made my way downstairs with both of them following.
"Damn," Mark muttered as he banged into an end table. "Hey, how about shining the light this way. She doesn't need it, remember."
Amanda laughed. It was obvious that she was enjoying his pain.
I retrieved the candles, lighting them with a book of matches I found in the same drawer.
"So I can finish reading," Mark answered as if it were a stupid question.
"No way, just sit there and wait. It should only be a minute or two."
We sat and waited.
The boredom was threatening, hanging over my head like a big knife. I retrieved my cell phone off the workbench and checked. No bars. That was strange. The Cell towers had a backup generator. They should have been working. A sick, worried feeling passed through my bones. I tried dialing my mom but got nothing. Not even a dial tone.
"Enough of this crap. I need to check on Amanda," I said as I snatched the flashlight off the table and marched up the basement stairs. Each step stomping.
"Hey, wait up," Mark said as he scrambled to stay close to the light. "It's not like the lights going out are going to bug her."
"Jesus, you can be such a jerk."
The basement door opened into the kitchen. Our house was second generation suburbia. The first generation had bought the houses in the seventies, raised their children, sent them off to college, and then sold out to the newcomers who would repeat the process.
Built on the outskirt of a logging town, it had been the lost dream of some politician or chamber of commerce official. Instead, it had become something of a joke. Twenty-four houses sitting on a cul-de-sac in the forest. You could still find signs where they'd laid sewer lines for the future expansion. An expansion that never happened.
The town itself had never grown to meet up with the housing development, leaving several miles of forest and rugged wilderness between them. It wasn't rural, but close enough.
The main thing was that it had high-speed cable. That's all I cared about.
The basement door opened into the kitchen and the dining room beyond.
"Amanda," I yelled at the top of my lungs. A heavy silence greeted me. Shaking my head, I reached the bottom of the regular stairs and yelled again.
She was probably upstairs in her room listening to her music. Racing up the stairs with Mark on my heels I banged on her door three times. Loud enough to pierce through whatever it was she was listening to.
"What?" a soft feminine voice demanded.
My heart started beating again in relief as I opened the door, shining the week flashlight beam on my sister. She was laying on her bed, her hands tucked behind her neck.
Her head turned to follow my movement across the room. Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt she looked like any other fifteen-year-old girl until you saw her eyes. They weren't strange or deformed. Just slow to track what was going on around her. They always seemed to be a split second behind.
Mark halted at her door. He better. Amanda would skin us both alive if Mark stepped into her room.
"The power's out," I said.
She frowned for a moment, "So?"
"The lights are out," Mark said from the doorway.
Her head whipped to the side. I could tell she was placing Mark into her reference points and making sure he was still outside her room. Sitting up she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and removed her headphones, gently placing them into their normal spot on her bedside table.
"Again. So?" she said with a soft smile. "Welcome to my world guys."
My heart turned over. I really could never understand what my sister's life was like.
"I just thought you should know," I said as we made our way downstairs. "Where does Mom keep the candles?"
"In the junk drawer in the kitchen," Amanda said. She was the resident expert on the location of all items in the house.
I made my way downstairs with both of them following.
"Damn," Mark muttered as he banged into an end table. "Hey, how about shining the light this way. She doesn't need it, remember."
Amanda laughed. It was obvious that she was enjoying his pain.
I retrieved the candles, lighting them with a book of matches I found in the same drawer.
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