In The Deepest Of Waters: A Noir Thriller by Ryan Mullaney

Author:Ryan Mullaney [Mullaney, Ryan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sunbird Books
Published: 2015-07-26T23:00:00+00:00

She awoke in her bed, before the sun. No recollection of leaving the chair in the middle of the night. But now it was morning, a time typically accompanied by the crying of birds beyond the window or the church bells ringing softly from the next block over.

Not a time for screams or shouts of anguish.

But that's what she heard. Nearby. Very close.

Libby jumped out of bed, her right leg buckling as it hit the floor, a voice yelling incoherently from the next room.

Mark had been in that room.

Libby shook with a pang of primal terror—what happened while she was sleeping?

Instincts overcame fear and she rushed into the room. She found Mark on the floor. Eyes closed. Perspiration beading his forehead and hair. Mouth twisted out of form.

Libby always knew what to do for whatever emergency confronted her, but now she could only watch, helpless as Mark spasmed on the frayed carpet.

After what felt like minutes, but was only a few seconds, Mark's body calmed, the torque on his joints lessened, ending with a deep exhale.

Then all was quiet.

“Mark?” Libby's voice was touched with uncertainty. Her words unanswered.

In the stillness, Mark slowly lifted himself upright, seated on the floor. His gaze found Libby and the shock inscribed on her features.

“Are ... you okay?” she asked, trembling in body and voice.

“Yeah. I'm fine now.”

“Do you need something? What can I do?”

Mark waved the questions off. “No, I'm fine. Really.”

“It didn't really look that way from here.”

“Everything is okay, trust me.”

Libby sat in the chair in which she fell asleep. She still wore last night's dress. “Does this happen often?”

“Not lately.”

“Okay. Do you—”

“It was a nightmare. That's all.”

“A nightmare.” Libby was unconvinced.

Mark sucked another deep breath and let it go. “Yes. It happens.”

“Do you take anything for it?”

“Not since you forbade me from taking it.”

It all became clear, like a piece of the puzzle that had been missing but was now found. Mark's troubles went deeper than Libby had initially believed. He didn't want to share them any more than Libby wanted to speak of herself.

“But it's not going to change what happens tonight,” Mark added.

That's right, it was Sunday. The big day. The day of reckoning. The day Libby signed her release.

But that's not what was on her mind just then. She still wanted the money, no doubt. As much as ever. But it wasn't about fucking up the job; it was about the health and welfare of someone she considered, in a weird way, to be her friend.

“I have the same dream every night,” Libby said to nobody in particular, as though talking to herself aloud. “I'd walk out to the sand as the sun went down, feeling my feet break through the warm surface of the shore to feel the cool sand beneath. Then I'm on a boat, sailing, by myself. Just sailing through the entire night, from one corner of the world to the other and then some. There's so much water to cross. And I cross it all, like there's no way I was asleep long enough to dream so much.

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