Nightbreaker by Coco Ma EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Coco Ma
- Language: English
- Genre: Teen & Young Adult Monster Fiction
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 3.5 MB
- Price: Free
These days, the only time I have to kill monsters is after school.
It’s also the only time I can do it unnoticed. So that’s how I’ve
ended up here, lying spread-eagle in the middle of the subway tracks,
bleeding out in the darkness with no hope of backup.
I can still see the remains of the shortcake I brought to bait the Deathling
out of the corner of my eye, the pretty white frosting and jellied
strawberries splattered along the grimy rails like a smashed-in skull.
I try to stay perfectly still as the Deathling sniffs at me. It reeks of
sewage and sulfur and piss. The sound of its labored breathing grows louder
and louder until its snuffling wet lips brush against my ear. It takes every
ounce of control to stop myself from cringing away from those endless
rows of teeth.
Since we were children, the rules when it comes to Deathlings have been
drilled into our brains.
The first: When curfew bells begin to sound, it’s time for all to be
homebound.
The second: Don’t eat sweets below the streets.
And finally: Never let yourself be caught.
Simple as that. Three rules of survival that any kindergartner could recite
to you. Three rules I could have followed. Maybe today will be the day I
finally learn my lesson.
My grip tightens on the gun clenched in my fist as I wait for my chance.
I’ve only got one nitro-novae bullet left. I can’t waste it.
I can only imagine how exasperated Maura will be if I survive to tell her
this tale. My older sister’s voice fills my head: How in the name of Lady
Liberty do you always get yourself into these messes, mèi mei?
It all started this afternoon. I stuff my Inhuman Anatomy IV textbook into
my locker and exchange it for my skateboard and my gun. I tuck the
weapon into the inner chest pocket of my blazer right as the bell rings and
students flood the hallways of Financial District Preparatory.
I barely beat the rush to the elevators. My ears pop as we descend.
22 . . . 21 . . . 20 . . .
At 1, the burnished gold doors open to the school’s lobby with a ding,
where a burly security guard sits behind the desk. “Have a safe nightfall,”
he bids each of us as we scurry out.
I weave down Rector Street through rush-hour traffic on my board,
veering recklessly between bright yellow taxicabs and buses crammed with
people. Their windows reflect the overcast sky, pale gray with wisps of
clouds and smog. Slews of bicyclists clog the gaps between each lane, each
space barely the width of their handlebars. With the subways shut down, the
perpetual war over parking spots, and constant traffic gridlock, most people
would choose death by side-view mirror any day.
I make it to the shops in one piece. The owner of the local bakery hovers
by the entrance, her weary eyes grimly supervising a construction crew
installing a new steel storefront gate lined with spikes. The previous one
lies discarded to the side, so severely dented and mottled with teeth marks
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