by Brian Harmon
Maybe someday, when you’re Mr. Future again, we’ll get the chance to sit down and talk about all our incredible adventures. But for now I must say goodbye.
Live well, my friend.
And thank you.
Chapter Fifty-Five
Eric was sitting on the couch, holding a damp cloth to his battered face and staring at Hector’s last letter when Karen finally walked in the door and called out for him.
“In here,” he called back.
“We dropped Holly off at her apartment. She wanted me to ask if you’d go with her to pick up her car tomorrow. It’s still at that grimy Top-Down place.”
“Yeah. No problem.”
“Isabelle said you saved the day again.”
“Something like that,” he replied.
She walked into the room and looked him over. Her hair was damp. She was wearing some of Diane’s clothes. They were a little tight on her. And for some reason, she looked really sexy like that. “What happened to you?” she asked.
“I kind of don’t want to talk about it right now.”
She sat down next to him and took the cloth from his hand, examining the damage. “Ouch…”
“It didn’t tickle,” he admitted. That psycho woman left gouges in his cheeks and forehead and around both eyes. It was astounding she didn’t manage to claw one of his eyeballs.
And it hurt considerably worse now than it did when it happened.
He handed her Hector’s last letter and took the cloth back from her. “He’s okay,” he told her. “He’s out there now. Somewhere. Alive and well.”
She skimmed over the pages, intrigued. “That’s amazing. Do you have the rest of the letters?”
“They’re in the glove box of the car. I’ll have to get them.”
“Tomorrow,” she said, taking the cloth again and dabbing at the scratches on his face. “Did you take something for the pain?”
He nodded. “Some Ibuprofen.”
“Good.”
“How are you feeling?” asked Eric.
“Fine. As soon as we washed our hair, Holly and I both started feeling like ourselves again.”
“Good.”
She grinned. “Speaking of… Isabelle told me you got a little excited when you heard about Holly and me in the shower together.”
“I was tired and confused,” he grumbled. “And Isabelle exaggerates sometimes.”
“And you’re a dirty old man.”
“I’m not that old,” he insisted.
She gave him a smile. “I guess you can be forgiven. Seeing as how you saved the whole city and everything. Maybe the whole world.”
“That’s good.”
She dabbed once more at the scratches on his face and then smiled.
Eric smiled back.
She leaned in to kiss him, but stopped. Suddenly, she sat up straight. “Is that lipstick?”
Eric stared back at her like a deer in headlights. “What?”
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About the Author
Brian Harmon is an author of horror fiction, suspense and dark adventure. He grew up in rural Missouri and currently lives in Southern Wisconsin with his wife, Guinevere, and their three children.
For more about this author, visit
www.HarmonUniverse.com