Southern Heaven by Diana Jayne Woods EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Diana Jayne Woods
- Language: English
- Genre: Novels
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- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Keegan Lawrence groped for the phone. Finding it, he pulled the
thing under the covers, contemplating hibernating for the rest of his life. He
moved his head towards the damned thing.
Big mistake.
He drew in a slow, deep breath, trying to stop the bricks slamming
about in his brain.
With great care he placed the mobile against his ear and decided to
experiment with speech. “Yeah?”
“Mr. Keegan Lawrence?”
“Yeah?” He ordered his brain to respond properly, but it refused
outright to cooperate. He really didn’t blame it, not after the amount of
alcohol it endured the night before. It was a miracle his brain could function
at all. “What?”
Ah, better. Still one syllable, but a different word. The sweet taste of
progress.
“Something strange is going on at Ngamengka-Garrwar…”
Ngamengka-Garrwar? It sounded like a nasty disease. Maybe he’d
caught it.
“Something very strange…strange and disturbing,” the person
whispered. At least they weren’t shouting. Right then, he didn’t think he
could take shouting.
“Where?” Another word. Hell, he was doing brilliantly for such an
uncivilised hour. What time it was, he didn’t know, because to actually know,
he’d have to open his eyes and he didn’t think he was strong enough to do
that yet. Maybe he’d never be strong enough.
Wait, the evil entity on the phone was speaking. Again. In more
stupid sentences.
With pure force of will, he focused and moments of clarity drifted
through his head; snatches of words from the caller.
“…Northern Territory…burns…circles…spaceships…ray guns…
mysterious…alien sightings…”
Maybe he’d been zapped by some kind of ray gun. It could be
possible. In fact, he wouldn’t be surprised by anything if it had happened last
night. The thought of last night made him groan again. He willed the person
to go away so he could die in peace.
“Ah,” Keegan said to the waiting silence. He tried to replay the onesided conversation, but only the jumble of words came back. “Ah. Good.
Aliens. Righto.”
There, that should placate the sadist who’d roused him from his
deathbed so bloody early in the morning.
“…in the mail…”
Maybe he wasn’t dying, he decided as he grasped an entire phrase. On
the whole, he wasn’t sure it was a good thing. At least if he were dead his
head wouldn’t feel like it were about to explode and he’d be able to get some
rest.
A loud click and sweet nothing told him something. The person had
hung up.
“Good,” Keegan muttered. Letting the phone slip from his fingers, he
turned over and went to sleep.
***
At nine-forty that morning, Xanthe Lowe trawled through her iPad as
she listened to the anonymous phone call.
All in all, her journalistic heart wasn’t in to this conversation. Her
holidays started in exactly seven hours and twenty minutes. For the first time
since becoming a journalist, she was being less than sensible, practical or
even responsible.
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