{"id":2714,"date":"2026-01-03T22:45:22","date_gmt":"2026-01-03T22:45:22","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/seconds-away-coben-harlan\/"},"modified":"2026-01-03T22:45:22","modified_gmt":"2026-01-03T22:45:22","slug":"seconds-away-coben-harlan","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/seconds-away-coben-harlan\/","title":{"rendered":"Seconds Away – Coben, Harlan"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Book Preview<\/h3>\n
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CHAPTER 1<\/p>\n

There are moments<\/span> in your life that change everything.<\/p>\n

I don\u2019t mean little things like, say, what cereal turns out to be your favorite or whether you get into any AP classes or what girl you fall in love with or where you wind up living for the next twenty years. I mean total change. One second your world is one thing, the next\u2014snap!\u2014it is completely altered. All the rules, all the things you accepted about reality, are turned around.<\/p>\n

Like, up becomes down. Left becomes right.<\/p>\n

Death becomes life.<\/p>\n

I stared at the photograph, realizing that we are always just seconds away from life-snapping change. What I was seeing with my own two eyes made no sense, so I blinked a few times and looked again\u2014as if I expected the image to change. It didn\u2019t.<\/p>\n

The picture was an old black-and-white. Doing a little quick math in my head, I realized that it had to have been taken nearly seventy years ago.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis can\u2019t be,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

I wasn\u2019t talking to myself, just in case you think I\u2019m nuts. (Which you will think soon enough.) I was talking to the Bat Lady. She stood a few feet away from me in her white gown and said nothing. Her long gray hair looked as though it were moving even when it was standing still. Her skin was wrinkled and crinkly, like old paper someone had folded and unfolded too many times.<\/p>\n

Even if you don\u2019t know this<\/em> Bat Lady, you know a<\/em> Bat Lady. She\u2019s the creepy old lady who lives in the creepy old house down the block. Every town has one. You hear tales in the school yard about all the horrible things she\u2019ll do to you if she ever catches you. As a little kid, you stay far away. As a bigger kid\u2014in my case, a sophomore in high school\u2014well, you still stay far away because, even though you know it\u2019s nonsense and you\u2019re too old for that kind of thing, the house still scares you just enough.<\/p>\n

Yet here I was, in her inner lair, staring at a photograph that I knew couldn\u2019t be what I thought it was.<\/p>\n

\u201cWho is this guy?\u201d I asked her.<\/p>\n

Her voice creaked like the old floorboards beneath our feet. \u201cThe Butcher of Lodz,\u201d she whispered.<\/p>\n

The man in the picture wore a Waffen-SS uniform from World War II. He was, in short, a sadistic Nazi who, according to the Bat Lady, murdered many, including her own father.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd this picture was taken when?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

The Bat Lady seemed puzzled by the question. \u201cI\u2019m not sure. Probably around 1942 or 1943.\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked at the man in the photograph again. My head spun. Nothing made sense. I tried to ground myself in what I knew for certain: My name, I knew, was Mickey Bolitar. Good start. I\u2019m the son of Brad (deceased) and Kitty (in rehab) Bolitar, and now I\u2019m the ward of my uncle Myron Bolitar (whom I tolerate). I go to Kasselton High School, the new kid trying to fit in, and based on this photograph, I am either delusional or completely insane.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s wrong, Mickey?\u201d Bat Lady asked me.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s wrong?\u201d I repeated. \u201cYou\u2019re kidding, right?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t understand.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThis\u201d\u2014I pointed to the photograph\u2014\u201cis the Butcher of Lodz?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd you think he died at the end of World War Two?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s what I was told,\u201d she said. \u201cMickey? Do you know something?\u201d<\/p>\n

I flashed back to the first time I had seen the Bat Lady. I had been walking to my new school when she suddenly appeared in the doorway of this decrepit house. I almost screamed out loud. She raised a ghostly hand toward me and said five words that struck me in the chest like a body blow:<\/p>\n

Mickey<\/em>\u2014I had no idea how she knew my name\u2014your father isn\u2019t dead<\/em>.<\/p>\n

That was what had started me down this crazy road that now led to\u00a0.\u00a0.\u00a0. to this picture.<\/p>\n

I looked up from the photograph. \u201cWhy did you tell me that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTell you what?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat my father isn\u2019t dead. Why did you say that to me?\u201d<\/p>\n

She was silent.<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause I was there,\u201d I said, my voice trembling. \u201cI saw him die with my own two eyes. Why would you say something like that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTell me,\u201d she said in that creaky old voice. \u201cTell me what you remember.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you for real?\u201d<\/p>\n

The old woman silently rolled up her sleeve and showed me the tattoo that marked her as a survivor of the Auschwitz death camp.<\/p>\n

\u201cI told you how my father died,\u201d she said. \u201cNow it\u2019s your turn. Tell me what happened.\u201d<\/p>\n

A chill ran down my spine. I looked around the dark room. A vinyl record spun on an old turntable, scratching out a song called \u201cTime Stands Still\u201d by HorsePower. My mom had been a HorsePower fan. She had even partied with the group back in her celebrity days, before I came along and washed all her dreams away. On the Bat Lady\u2019s mantel was that cursed picture, the one of the five hippies from the sixties wearing tie-dyed T-shirts with that butterfly on the chest.<\/p>\n

\u201cTell me,\u201d Bat Lady said again.<\/p>\n

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. It was so hard to go back there\u2014and yet it seemed as though I did it every night.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe were driving to San Diego, just my dad and me. The radio was on. We were laughing.\u201d That\u2019s what I remember best from, well, before. The way he laughed.<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay,\u201d she said. \u201cThen what happened?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAn SUV crossed the divider and crashed head on into us. Boom, like that.\u201d I stopped for a moment. I could almost feel it, the horrible jarring, the strain against the seat belt, the whiplash into sudden darkness. \u201cThe car flipped over. When I woke up, I was trapped. Some firefighters were trying to free me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd your father?\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked at her. \u201cYou knew my father, didn\u2019t you? My uncle told me that my father visited this house when he was a kid.\u201d<\/p>\n

She ignored the question. \u201cYour father,\u201d she repeated. \u201cWhat happened to him in the accident?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know what happened.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTell me.\u201d<\/p>\n

I could see him in my mind\u2019s eye. \u201cDad was lying on his back. His eyes were closed. Blood was pooling around his head.\u201d<\/p>\n

My heart began to tumble.<\/p>\n

Bat Lady reached a bony hand toward me. \u201cIt\u2019s okay.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d I snapped, anger entering my voice now, \u201cit\u2019s not okay. It isn\u2019t even close to okay. Because, see, there was a paramedic working on my dad. He had sandy hair and green eyes, and eventually this paramedic looked up at me, and when our eyes met, he shook his head. Just once. And I knew. His expression said it all. It was over. My dad was dead. The last thing I saw was my father on a gurney, and that paramedic with the sandy-blond hair and green eyes wheeling him away.\u201d<\/p>\n

Bat Lady said nothing.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd this\u201d\u2014I held up the old black-and-white photograph, my voice choking, the tears coming faster now\u2014\u201cthis isn\u2019t a photograph of some old Nazi. It\u2019s a photograph of that paramedic.\u201d<\/p>\n

Bat Lady\u2019s face, already the whitest shade of pale, seemed to grow even paler. \u201cI don\u2019t understand.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNeither do I. Your Butcher of Lodz? He was the paramedic who wheeled away my dad.\u201d<\/p>\n

Her response surprised me. \u201cI\u2019m tired, Mickey. You must go now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re kidding me, right? Who is this guy? Why did he take my father?\u201d<\/p>\n

Her hand fluttered up toward her mouth. \u201cSometimes, we want something to be so badly, we make it so. Do you understand?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t want<\/em> this to be a picture of the paramedic. It just is.\u201d<\/p>\n

She shook her head, her waist-length hair flying in the breeze. \u201cMemory is so unreliable. You will learn that as you get older.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you saying I\u2019m wrong?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf the Butcher had somehow lived, he\u2019d be nearly ninety years old. That\u2019s old for a paramedic.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhoa, I didn\u2019t say he was ninety. He\u2019s the same age as this guy.\u201d<\/p>\n

Bat Lady just looked at me as though the crazy shoe was on the other foot now. I realized how it all sounded now\u2014like the ravings of a lunatic. The song ended and another began. She took a step back, her ripped white gown dragging across the old wood floor. Her gaze hardened on me.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt is time for you to leave. And you may not see me for a while.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t get it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ve made a mistake,\u201d she said to me.<\/p>\n

Tears started forming in the corners of my eyes. \u201cYou think I could ever forget that face? The way he looked at me before he wheeled away my father?\u201d<\/p>\n

Her voice had steel in it now. \u201cGet out, Mickey.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not going\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGet out!\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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Read the full book by downloading it below.<\/p>\n

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Book Preview CHAPTER 1 There are moments in your life that change everything. I don\u2019t mean little things like, say, what cereal turns out to be your favorite or whether you get into any AP classes or what girl you fall in love with or where you wind up living for the next twenty years. … Read more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":2713,"comment_status":"","ping_status":"","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[156],"class_list":["post-2714","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-harlan-coben"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2714","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2714"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2714\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/2713"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2714"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2714"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2714"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}