Chapter 49: Rest in Peace

Daryls’s old neighbor screamed with a nasal, dry palate. I heard him scamper up the stairs like a drunken rat and slam his door. I didn’t have much time. I didn’t have any time.

I rushed over to Daryl, where he sat laboring for breath, his body paralyzed against the wall.

“Where’s the book?” I asked, my hands jittery like a coke addict in rehab.

He tried to laugh but it came out as a hesitant cough. “There’s no book.” He smiled and then groaned.

“Who’s killed Tonya? Who called that night?”

He mana...