To the Vanishing Point by Foster Alan Dean

To the Vanishing Point by Foster Alan Dean

Author:Foster, Alan Dean [Foster, Alan Dean]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Science Fiction, Horror, Adventure, Adult
ISBN: 9781497627260
Amazon: 1497627265
Goodreads: 21852105
Publisher: Open Road Media Sci-Fi Fantasy
Published: 1988-01-01T08:00:00+00:00


11

WHEN PEOPLE HAVE BEEN married for a long time they develop the ability to sense their partner’s presence or absence, even in the midst of deep sleep. Few scientists will admit to the existence of this marital telepathy—unless they themselves are married.

Alicia awoke and rolled over, squinting sleepily in the dark. “Frank?” She rose halfway, supporting herself on one arm. “Frank, you in the john?” She kept her voice down even though the children were in the other room behind a closed door.

No reply came from the bathroom, nor the chairs nor anywhere else. Enough light seeped around the edges of the curtain for her to make out the dim silhouettes of bed and cheap motel furniture.

It wouldn’t be the first time. Frank was fond of nocturnal walks when he couldn’t sleep. Certainly he had more on his mind than the future of their vacation.

With a sigh she slipped into her robe and went to the front door. The parking lot was mostly empty, dominated by the silent shape of the motor home. Moonlight enabled her to see clear across the street, to shuttered gift shops and real estate offices. The motel office was dark.

No familiar figure bestrode the concrete walkway in front of the rooms. If he wanted a soda he would’ve gone out to the motor home, she reflected. She retreated long enough to slip into a pair of sneakers, knotted the belt of her robe, and started across the lot.

The door to the motor home stood ajar, a figure seated on the lowest step. “Frank?” A face turned up to her and at the same time she saw that the shape was of a man much bigger than her husband.

“Yatahey, Mrs. Sonderberg. Or perhaps I should say good morning. The sun will rejoin us soon.”

“Hello, Burnfingers. Have you seen Frank?”

“He’s not with you?” Burnfingers tried to see past her.

She shook her head. “I thought he came out to talk or get something to drink.” She looked back toward the motel, trying to remember where the vending machines were located. Even now he might be back in the room, wondering at the empty bed. Well, if he came looking for her this would be the first place he’d check. No point in worrying about it.

“You can’t sleep, either?”

She could just make out Burnfingers’s grin in the moonlight. “I never sleep. Waste of time.”

“Oh, now really. Everybody sleeps.”

“Not me. You know, if you spend eight hours out of every twenty-four asleep and you live to be eighty years old, you have wasted one third of your entire life.”

“Well, I have to sleep.” She wondered why she sounded so defensive. Burnfingers’s claim was patently absurd but, of course, he was crazy. It shouldn’t have surprised her. Nothing he said ought to surprise her.

“Sleepy or not, what are you doing out here alone?”

“Talking to the moon. Watching the sky. Standing guard.”

“Guard?” She turned sharply. “Is there something out here?”

“No. But if I wasn’t standing guard, there might be.”

“Like what?”

He turned to her.



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