By Peter Lerangis
David Moore lives within the urban. Six months in the past, his father disappeared. Now David has appear him back ... in an deserted subway station, surrounded by means of a mysterious crowd of ghostlike humans.
No one else sees this. nobody else can.
Is David's father lifeless? Or is he ... in different places?
In order to determine, David Moore needs to input the area of the WATCHERS.
Read or Download Last Stop (Watchers, No. 1) PDF
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Extra info for Last Stop (Watchers, No. 1)
Heather. It figured. “Nothing’s incorrect! What do you need? ” “What’s it say? the cardboard? ” “Why may still I inform you? ” “If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have got it. ” “If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t were arrested! ” “True. yet you’re simply 13. they only scared you and slapped you at the wrist, correct? ” “How are you aware? ” “I watch television. So, what does the cardboard say? ” I exhaled. little need battling a strength of nature. “Some guy’s identify. i used to be approximately to name him earlier than you interrupted. ” “Was it the man who disappeared? ” “No one disappeared, Heather. ” “Oh, yeah, correct, it was once a hallucination. I forgot. So why are you calling him? ” “To inform him he misplaced his card, ok? ” “I’ll be correct over. ” click on. I waited for the thrill tone. Then I rigorously tapped out the quantity imprinted on the card. “This is The Sky’s the Limit,” got here a recorded voice. “Our typical enterprise hours are—” Ding-dong-ding-dong-ding-dong-ding-dong! I slammed down the receiver, ran to front door, and opened it. “That was once fast,” I stated. “Is this it? ” Heather blurted out, grabbing the cardboard from my hand as she barged within. “Let’s name. ” “I simply did. The company’s closed. We can’t check with him until eventually after the weekend, i assume. ” “Duh. ” Heather went directly to the kitchen, took a residential listing off the shelf, and leafed via it furiously. “Here it really is! ‘Ruckman, Miles…9766-1848. ’ ” occasionally I can’t stand shrewdpermanent humans. I known as the quantity. yet I reached one other recorded voice, stiff and dull-sounding: “This is Miles Ruckman. I’m not able to respond to your name right away, but when you’d wish to leave—” “Auuuugh. ” I hung up back. “He’s now not domestic, both. ” “That proves it! ” Heather exclaimed. “He did vanish. ” “He can be anyplace. Out buying. within the toilet. ” “Okay, we’ll wait and phone back. ” Heather was once fiddling impatiently with the enterprise card now, turning it round. “Hey, what’s this? ” She held the again of the cardboard towards me. On it was once a scribbled message: “Great speller,” I commented. “Yyyyyyes! ” Heather leaped up and commenced dancing. “Between Booker and Deerfield! That’s the place the Granite highway station is. the following in his personal handwriting! ” “He wrote down the site. giant deal. Heather, a lot of people prefer to gawk on the station. ” “And then they only toss their enterprise playing cards out the door? ” Heather crammed the cardboard in her blouse pocket and glanced on the listing back. “He lives at 37 Bond road. we will ring his buzzer. If he’s no longer there, we will be able to remain until eventually he arrives. If he arrives. Are you with me? ” “You’re loopy. That’s…that’s stalking! ” Heather begun for the door. “I’ll move. I’ll inform you what occurs. ” “Wait! ” I stated. Heather circled. “There’s a funky classic comedian booklet shop on Bond Street,” I mumbled. “Maybe I’ll move down there with you. ” We took the subrail. The phantom station was once as empty and darkish as ordinary. Thirty-seven Bond was once a rundown residence construction, on the subject of the river. A rusted hearth get away zigzagged down front of it, and some rubbish cans stood empty at the sidewalk. close to front door used to be an inventory of names and residence numbers, every one subsequent to its personal black push button—just like my development, the place you ring a buzzer to someone’s residence and that individual buzzes you inside of.