The Amun Chamber by Leston Daniel

Author:Leston, Daniel [Leston, Daniel]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, azw3, epub
Tags: Action & Adventure, Fiction
ISBN: 9781467924757
Published: 2013-11-23T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The intrusive noise came to his ear as if from a very great distance, an inexplicable sound having absolutely no connection to his vivid dream. So what was making the damn noise?

It grew louder, more annoying and persistent, slowly pulling him ever closer to—

David finally awoke with a start, jolted back to consciousness by what he now recognized as a ringing telephone. The bright daylight flooding his room was a mild shock. The last he remembered it was just past two o’clock. Getting up from the couch, he staggered over and lifted the receiver.

It was Elizabeth. “Were you still sleeping?”

“Yes, I—I guess I must’ve been.”

“I was beginning to think maybe you went out.” A long pause. “May I come over?”

“Sure,” he said, thinking it odd she felt it necessary to ask. “Just give me a minute or so to clean up, okay?”

“I’ve got coffee. Thought you could probably use some.”

“Sounds good.” He rubbed at the crick in his neck, trying to get his thoughts together. Before he could ask the time, she was gone. He stripped off his wrinkled shirt and unlatched the door.

He found his wristwatch on the bathroom sink, telling him it was almost noon. It didn’t seem possible. The mirror only confirmed how he felt, like his head had been pulled through a knothole. He let the water run cold before washing his face. The shock of it helped ease the pounding throb behind his eyes. Much of last night was a foggy blur.

But not the dream. It remained fresh and clear.

He was a kid again, standing with the support of Richard Andrews in the funeral home. The remembered pain of it; the horror of having to look at those three coffins, knowing he’d never again see his parents and little brother . . . all still so vivid in his mind. He sighed. It was a frightening thing, he thought, how the brain can retrieve and pervert memories—and seemingly for no other purpose than to torture on multiple levels.

A knock came at the door as he reached for a towel. Over his shoulder, he called, “Come on in. It’s open.”

He heard her enter.

Elizabeth had coffee poured when he came out. The half-consumed bottle of whiskey was still on the coffee table. It was a telling statement in itself, but one she was choosing to ignore. “If you’re hungry,” she said, “I can order something brought up?”

“This will do fine for now. Maybe later.”

He took a fresh shirt from the bureau drawer and slipped it on, aware she was following him obliquely with her eyes, doubtless trying to gauge his condition. Her concern was appreciated, but unnecessary. He put his hands on her shoulders, pulling her close. “I’m okay, really,” he assured her. “I’m not so frail as all that.”

Her face relaxed into a weak smile.

“I know,” she said. “It’s just that Edith was such a dear, lovely woman. I’d have to be blind not to see how much she meant to you.”

He acknowledged the sympathy by placing a light kiss on her forehead.

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