No Less Days

by Amanda G. Stevens

  In David’s soul, a mission felt accomplished. He didn’t know why it mattered whether Zac returned to his hotel now or in a few hours. He only knew it did.

  THIRTY-TWO

  Zac followed David to the first public lot past state park property—property that was, of course, gated for the night. They parked and met at the front of the Jeep, and Zac gestured at their surroundings.

  “Can we get to the beach from here?”

  “It’s not so much a beach as a lot of sand piled up, with some grass at the bottom. The water’s distant. It’s about half a mile to walk.”

  “Cool.”

  They trekked a winding path down to the water and had to walk another quarter mile to an area of beach backed by dunes, none of them as grand as those in the park but still a challenging climb. They left their shoes at the base of one and started up with a blanket each. Tiana’s presence would have required at least three more—a sitting blanket, a lap-draping blanket, a wrap blanket. She’d told him once about her enjoyment of sunset gazing and her list of necessities.

  They’d have to do that soon.

  Dune climbing wasn’t an exercise anyone in poor physical shape should attempt. The cold sand squished and caved underfoot, forcing a digging in of the toes to keep from sliding backward. David’s thigh muscles felt the work immediately, and his increased heart rate brought a throb to the healing gash along the side of his head.

  Halfway up, Zac strayed to their right. Now he stood still, facing the water, the mostly empty parking lot at their backs.

  David came up beside him and let his pulse settle, his head ease.

  “You can’t see the horizon,” Zac said after a moment. “Or the lake. You can’t see much of anything.”

  “No, not without a moon.”

  Zac shivered and rubbed his arms as the wind kicked up. “It’s really dark out there.”

  “At night it’s about the climbing experience, not the view.”

  “Right.”

  They continued on. David half expected Zac to cartwheel his way to the top, but he let David set the pace. When the throb in his head forced him to rest for a minute, Zac dropped to sit beside him in the sand.

  “Go on, I’ll join you presently.” David gestured toward the top.

  “Nah.”

  David sighed and pressed one hand to his head.

  Zac dangled his hands between his knees. “Guess you’re hoping not to see that guy again.”

  “Unlike you?”

  “I wonder what they’re like.”

  “My headache doesn’t much care.”

  “Hmm.”

  “What?”

  Zac shrugged. “You might find out whether you care to or not.”

  “Why would he have anything more to do with us?”

  “Curiosity maybe. Or revenge.”

  “You think his people are being killed? By someone other than Colm?”

  “Don’t you?”

  “The serum can’t last forever.”

  “I might be wrong. It’s just … something in my gut.”

  “I told Simon to keep me informed if he finds a way to identify them.”

  Zac grinned. “See, you’re curious too.”

  When they reached the top ten minutes later, Zac sprawled on his back on one of the blankets, arms open to the stars, wind ruffling his hair. David spread his blanket and sat, knees up, arms propped on them. Far out where he knew the water to be, he might have seen the light of a boat. The wind was stronger up here, rustling the remaining dry leaves of the cottonwoods.

  The energy of the trek eased away like a sigh. The night settled over them with a chilled benevolence. After a while David settled back on his elbows and tilted his head toward the inky void above. It had to be near midnight by now.

  Zac got up and sat close enough for a conversation, but neither of them spoke for a long time. Maybe Zac had nothing to say. But David did.

  “You need to know something. About Moira.”

  Zac’s head swiveled toward him. “What about Moira?”

  “When she left, she told me why.”

  “What did she say?”

  “I asked her to stay and have it out with both of you. Deal with it, with what she’s done. She told me Simon will forgive her, in time.”

  Zac’s stare drilled into him. “Yeah, and?”

  “You won’t. You’ll keep her at a distance. She said it’s her fault, that she created the distance as protection for you and Simon.”

  Zac made a choking sound. “Protection.”

  “She said the distance won’t be bridged now. I think that’s why she left.”

  Slowly, Zac shook his head, then turned to stare out at the lake. “I’m supposed to—to accept her silence about the death of innocents because it was for my sake?”

  David sat and waited for Zac to break the silence this time. He waited for long minutes.

  “I can’t,” Zac said.

  “She knew you wouldn’t.”

  “David, I can’t. They could have lived.”

  “Aye, they could.”

  “He’s ruined us.”

  Maybe he should hold his peace now, but, “Moira said the same.”

  Zac drew a ragged breath. “I can’t even think about him without wanting to bring him back to life so I can be the one to kill him. I’ve never hated a man before.”

  David blinked as the wind made his eyes water. He waited, though he didn’t know for what.

  “All the years he was killing, all the years he was terrorizing her, I was calling him my brother. My best friend.” Zac lowered his forehead to his knees.

  David gripped his shoulder. Zac shook with emotion as David kept his hand on him and prayed. And then he knew what to say.

  “You have to mourn it, Zac.”

  “I will not mourn that man!”

  “No, not Colm. You have to mourn what’s been done to you. To all of you. Mourn for the damage inside Moira. Mourn what you believed you had. It’s a hard loss. Don’t deny yourself that grief.”

  “God,” Zac said.

  “He’s here.”

  A keening, long but quiet, and then the only sound was the work to collect himself, to even his rough breathing and stop the sobs. David held on to his shoulder. Zac fell silent, at times motionless and at times shaking. Time passed.

  When he lifted his head, he seemed calm, though his eyes were exhausted. David withdrew his hand. He prayed that some shard had worked its way out of a wound, that Zac would be able to heal now though he was bleeding still. He also prayed that Zac would bend his knee before God had to wrench his hip.

  “We should head back.”

  “Aye.”

  But neither of them moved.

  “What’s in Denver?” David said at last.

  Zac cocked his head at the change in topic. Shrugged. “The Rocky Mountains, skiing, natural beauty, a decent hockey team, diabolical winters …”

  “Michigan has several of those covered, you know.”

  He studied David a long moment. “I guess it does.”

  “You have people here, in addition to diabolical winters. You can hole up if you need. And if Moira doesn’t return and you decide to go after her, I’ll help as I can.”

  Zac stood and walked away, ten yards or so across the sand. He faced the invisible horizon. He bent and planted his hands in the sand and slowly pulled his body up into a handstand. A long minute passed, easy tension in his muscles as he held himself still and then lowered his feet back to the ground and straightened up.

  He walked back to David and sat in the sand, knees up, arms draped across them.

  Awhile later he sighed. “Yeah, okay.”

  David nodded. “Good.”

  Shoulder to shoulder, they looked out on the night.

  DISCUSSION QUESTIONS

  1. This book is a collision of Christianity in the real world with a fantasy story, but what if there were “longevites” living today, unknown to us? In what ways might their existen
ce fit into God’s plan for humanity? As a “normal” human, do you ever ask God questions about His purposes similar to those David asks?

  2. Zac, David, Simon, and Moira have no way of predicting their life span. How would this uncertainty affect your daily life, human relationships, and relationship with God?

  3. Which of the books referenced in this story are you most familiar with (The Picture of Dorian Gray, The Red Pony, etc.)? Do the themes of these titles intersect at all with the themes of No Less Days? Is David this book’s Dorian Gray, or might someone else be?

  4. Choosing a book’s point-of-view character can be a challenge for an author. How does David’s perspective shape this story? Is he always a reliable narrator? What might the story have been if told from another character’s perspective?

  5. Did your opinion of any of the characters change as you (and David) got to know them? Did any of them surprise you?

  6. In the bookstore the night Colm is found out, when Tiana confronts David with scripture, he sees his error and confesses it. Have you been in Tiana’s place, speaking truth to someone who needs it? Have you been in David’s place, needing to hear truth from someone who cares enough not to back down? What past choices led David to this place?

  7. When David asks Zac why he can’t surrender to God, Zac says he doesn’t know, and David doesn’t believe him. Do you believe Zac? From what you know of him, why do you think he might be wrestling with God?

  8. Were you familiar with the Langston Hughes poem that the quote on Tiana’s wall is taken from? What do you think this quote means to Tiana? What does it mean to you?

  9. Colm speaks several times about his motives for taking mortal lives, and other characters sometimes challenge his explanations. Is he consistent? Does he tell the truth about himself at any point in the book? If not, is he lying only to the others or to himself as well?

  10. The longevites decide that Colm’s death is the only way to protect mortals and bring about justice. Do you agree with their decision? If not, what would you have done?

  11. Do you think reconciliation is possible between Zac and Moira? If so, what will it take to bring them to that point?

  12. Discuss the significance of the book’s title.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  If you took part in the creation of this book, you probably know who you are. Some of you helped unearth the bones; some helped them grow flesh; all were vital to the process, and now is my chance to say public thanks to …

  My brainstormers and/or first readers, for friendships I cherish and also for your individual expertise: Serena Chase (Team Zac enthusiasm), Jocelyn Floyd (meteoric plotting), Kristen Heitzmann (the agelessness dichotomy), Jess Keller (Team Simon enthusiasm), Melodie Lange (romantic analysis), Emily Stevens (philosophical excavation), Andrea Taft and Charity Tinnin (all the things; you two never quit).

  My agent, Jessica Kirkland, for believing in this book and in me.

  My editor, Linda Hang, for lessons in style and for making David’s story the shiniest version of itself.

  My lovely new house, Barbour, for saying yes, for wrapping my “kids” in a splendid design, and for all-around greatness.

  My family, for love, memories, group texts both serious and silly, and togetherness. By the time this book is out, we’ll have met my own first nephew!

  My Creator and Father, Fount of every blessing; my Savior in whose hand I reside forever; the Spirit who nudges and pokes when I am prone to wander. Lord of every good gift, thank You for giving me stories. Thank You for David’s story, and may the words of my pen be pleasing in Your sight.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  As a child, Amanda G. Stevens disparaged Mary Poppins and Stuart Little because they could never happen. Now she writes speculative fiction. She is the author of the Haven Seekers series, and her debut Seek and Hide was a 2015 INSPY Award finalist. She lives in Michigan and loves trade paperbacks, folk music, the Golden Era of Hollywood, and white cheddar popcorn.