All The Pretty Dead Girls. John Manning

All The Pretty Dead Girls - John Manning


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      THE NEXT DEAD GIRL

      All Tish Lewis knew was that it was dark.

      And cold.

      How long had she been in this place? And where exactly was she?

      She had long since stopped screaming. No one had come in response to her screams.

      Why? Why was she being held?

      Ransom? That’s what she thought at first. Someone had kidnapped her and was demanding money from her father. But that was before she began to hear the chanting through the door. The terrible singing.

      That was before she heard the scream.

      It was a girl’s scream. She knew that. And she thought she knew who the girl was, too.

      Her roommate, Joelle.

      Tish began to cry again. She was starting to lose hope that she’d ever get out of this room alive. What worried her most now was how her death would come, not if. They had taken her for a reason—they’d taken Joelle, too, and Tish was certain it was Joelle’s scream of death that she had heard. They’d taken both girls to kill them.

      But who “they” were and why they wanted to kill them was unknown. And it was the unknown that Tish feared most…

      ALL THE PRETTY DEAD GIRLS

      JOHN MANNING

      PINNACLE BOOKS

       KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

       www.kensingtonbooks.com

      Contents

      Prologue

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Three Months Earlier

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Chapter 16

      Chapter 17

      Chapter 18

      Chapter 19

      Chapter 20

      Chapter 21

      Chapter 22

      Chapter 23

      Chapter 24

      Chapter 25

      Chapter 26

      Chapter 27

      Chapter 28

      Chapter 29

      Chapter 30

      Chapter 31

      Chapter 32

      Chapter 33

      Chapter 34

      Chapter 35

      Chapter 36

      Chapter 37

      Chapter 38

      Chapter 39

      Chapter 40

      Chapter 41

      Chapter 42

      Chapter 43

      Chapter 44

      Chapter 45

      Chapter 46

      Chapter 47

      Chapter 48

      Chapter 49

      Chapter 50

      Chapter 51

      Chapter 52

      Chapter 53

      Chapter 54

      Chapter 55

      Chapter 56

      Chapter 57

      Chapter 58

      Chapter 59

      Chapter 60

      Chapter 61

      Chapter 62

      Chapter 63

      Chapter 64

      Chapter 65

      Chapter 66

      Chapter 67

      Chapter 68

      Chapter 69

      Chapter 70

      Chapter 71

      Chapter 72

      Chapter 73

      Chapter 74

      Chapter 75

      Chapter 76

      Chapter 77

      Chapter 78

      Chapter 79

      Chapter 80

      Chapter 81

      Chapter 82

      Chapter 83

      Chapter 84

      Chapter 85

      Chapter 86

      Chapter 87

      Chapter 88

Prologue

      1

      The white Lexus was doing exactly one mile over the speed limit when it crossed the Louisiana state line.

      It had started to rain just outside of Jackson, Mississippi—a steady downpour the wipers simply couldn’t keep up with. Visibility was impaired enough to force Sue to slow down to a crawl as she passed through the city.

      Sue’s shoulders tensed as she watched the red taillights of the Jeep Cherokee in front of her. She had been driving almost nonstop for nearly two days now. The other girls on campus had been thinking about their exams, about what they’d do on their upcoming holiday breaks. But Sue’s mind had been on one thing and one thing only. Getting away. There had been no other choice.

      She snapped on the radio, trying to relieve the tedium of the drive and the steady, pounding rain. “Have yourself a merry little Christmas,” a voice sang from the radio. “Let your heart be light…”

      Christmas. It was almost Christmas. It didn’t feel that way to Sue, with the warm, muggy rain.

      “From now on, our troubles will be out of sight…”

      She was crying. She switched off the radio. She preferred the silence.

      Sue glanced back in her rearview mirror. She wasn’t really sure who—or what—she was looking for. In the rain, she couldn’t see anything but headlights anyway. But somehow it made her feel better to look back every now and then. Her nerves, already shot, began to fray a little as she kept taking her foot off the gas pedal to avoid slamming into the car in front of her.

      “Come on, come on,” Sue muttered under her breath, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel. The wind and rain whipped against the side of the car with a long, screeching howl.

      It seemed to take hours to get through Jackson, but once she


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