Dark Halo by Shannon Dittemore

Author:Shannon Dittemore
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ebook
Publisher: Thomas Nelson
Published: 2013-06-01T04:00:00+00:00

21

Jake

It’s just past nine in the morning, but it’s hot. Jake rubs at his chest, at the sweat that’s started to bleed through his gray T-shirt. With his face pressed against Delia’s front window, he sees Marco’s bag propped against the couch. He knocks again on the blue door.

Hanging from the awning are hundreds of wind chimes. Today they’re too still, too quiet. Dangling near his face is a model of the solar system. It’s old, the metal rusted, the paint chipping. He flicks it. The rusted thing bumps and clanks, but the sound is grating, and he stills the planets with his fist. When he pulls his hand away, a red fleck sticks to his palm—the skin of Mars.

The chime is a pathetic replica of the created order, but the rusting, flaking planets remind him that it’s all temporary. One day these worlds will fade away. A new heaven and a new earth will replace them, and everything he now sees will be gone. Even the morning sun beating down, burning his neck. It’s nearly impossible to imagine life without it, but as bright, as powerful as it seems, the sun is nothing compared to the light of the Creator. It’s a strange thought. But there’s peace in it. That the fear and the pain, the angst and the warfare—all of it will disappear.

One day.

Behind him, a car crunches over dirt and dried grass. It’s Kaylee, her brakes squealing as she pulls to a stop. But no, it’s not the brakes squealing. It’s Kaylee. The tightness in his muscles eases a bit as he watches her bounce in her seat.

“You’re back, you’re back, you’re back!” She trips climbing out her door but recovers quickly. “I’m so glad you’re back. And you’re okay?”

“I am.”

She releases the plastic grocery bag in her hand and lets it fall to the porch. Something glass shatters inside, but she ignores it and pulls Jake close, pinning his arms to his sides.

“You owe me a pair of slippers,” she says.

“I do?”

“I wore mine to Bellwether, and now my right Tasmanian Devil is missing an eye.”

He grabs her shoulders and pushes her to arm’s length. He looks at her now, carefully. Sees the bruise on her face. It’s a sickly green and purple. Her jaw and lip are swollen as well.

“You went to Bellwether?”

“Of course I went to Bellwether. What kind of loyal sidekick would I be if I didn’t?”

“And your face . . .”

“Damien.”

Jake stiffens. “That sick, twisted . . .” He squeezes her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Kay. Man, I’m sorry.” He reaches out a hand, but thinks better of himself with the occasional car rumbling past. “Here, let’s—Can we go inside?”

“Of course,” she says, scooping her bag from the porch, something pink and gloppy dripping through a slice in the bottom.

“Here,” Jake says. “Let me.” He takes the bag from her hand, and as he follows her inside he does his best not to drop the strawberry-smelling gunk all over the carpet.

“Elle’s back too, then? Please, please tell me she’s okay.

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