Dead Time by Byers Richard Lee

Author:Byers, Richard Lee [Byers, Richard Lee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: occult, horror
Publisher: Crossroad Press
Published: 2017-04-05T21:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

Vadoma just sat for a few seconds, obviously mulling his story over, finally said, “Okay, now I’m convinced, I just wish I wasn’t. I don’t know why a ghost enemy is scarier than a Martian or a mad scientist, but it is.”

He scowled and said, “If you can’t handle it, walk away,” then remembered that if she did, there’d be no one to finish what he’d started.

She laid her hand on his shoulder. He suddenly felt too edgy to tolerate being pawed, had to clench his body so he wouldn’t jerk away. “I said I’d stick with you, and I will. And … I’m sorry for being such a bitch. It was only because the thought of losing you hurts so much, but I won’t do it anymore; I guess almost getting ripped to shreds changed my perspective. I want us to act like sweethearts for whatever time is left.”

It was like when his mother died. He expected a gush of maudlin emotion, but only felt a stab of irritation. As badly as she’d hurt him, how could she think her half-assed apology would make everything all right? How could he trust her, now that she’d turned on him once? But he needed her, and much as that rankled, he’d better not let his animosity show. He put his hand on hers and said “I’m glad.”

Perhaps he didn’t sound convincing, because she peered at him, then said, “I really made you feel terrible, didn’t I?”

He thought she almost sounded smug. “Don’t worry about it. What do you say we get out of here before the Sorority reappears.” He rose, offered her his hand, and pulled her to her feet.

“Okay,” she sighed, “but just so you know, I’m going to vamp and pester you till every brain cell in your head forgives me. And now, to completely change the subject, it seemed like you didn’t use your weapons when you fought.”

He realized the option had never occurred to him. He’d instinctively relied on his karate maneuvers, just as he’d figured he would. “Right, I didn’t.”

“Well, I did, and now I’m out of Mace and I don’t know how much juice is left in the shocker. So can I have yours? If something else attacks, I might not be able to protect myself without them.”

His first impulse was to tell her no, that they’d divided the weapons evenly in the beginning, and if she’d wasted hers, that was her problem: But she wouldn’t be any use to him dead. “Sure.”

When he pulled out the stun gun, he discovered that he’d fallen on it and smashed it. Bad luck, but he rather enjoyed her grimace of dismay. When he reached for his Mace, his fingers brushed his knife hilt, and he was suddenly glad she hadn’t asked for that. Something told him he was going to need it.

As they stepped away from the slab, his foot bumped something in the weeds. Stooping, he found a liter of Jack Daniels with a pouring spout screwed into its neck and a couple shots of bourbon left inside it.

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