by Lee Killough
Which he hoped would put Mada to rest far from the John Doe — fortunately not autopsied — buried here. Buried but never to be forgotten. He planned to tend the grave as Anna would if she knew, and as a blood debt, a reminder of responsibility and accountability.
Maggie stirred in his arms. “Why don’t we move more to my side of the bed. Your side is so lumpy, like you have rocks in the mattress.”
“Nothing’s wrong with that,” he answered, though he shifted her off the pallet. There must be a better way to have his sleeping earth. Maybe take fabric to someone and ask for a custom mattress pad with packets of earth sewn into the quilting, calling it an “holistic” aid to health. Further evidence that Californians were nutty, of course…which he hoped made his differences seem quirky rather than suspicious. “Contact with earth sets up positive resonance in the human body. My veins carry the blood of an ancient lineage who always keep close contact with the earth and barring accident or murder, live very long lives.”
She sighed. “You’re crazy, Garreth.”
“Ah, yes, but it’s part o’ me charm, Maggie darlin’.”
She giggled and snuggled against his bandaged shoulder and side.
He smiled down at her. Maggie was not like Marti but even without being able to bare his soul to her, she filled some of his needs, as he did some of hers. The gulf between him and normal humans might be narrower than Lane thought, and bridgeable with care.
“What did you talk about with your ex-wife today?” Maggie murmured.
“Brian.” They agreed Dennis could adopt him, but have Brian hyphenate his last name to remain a Mikaelian, too. That satisfied Garreth’s parents, and Garreth, so he could keep track of his descendants. “Go to sleep. I need to run.”
“You can’t lay off until your shoulder and side finish healing?” She shook her head and pulled the blankets over her head. “I always knew runners have a cog missing.”
The bandages were nothing but props now, the wounds under them just angry scars…soon to disappear altogether.
Sliding out of bed, he dressed in a warm-up suit and packed his bottles. The night outside was clear, the stars and sliver of moon bright as crystal in the icy sky. Garreth drew the air deep in his lungs and blew it out in an incandescent cloud of steam. He ran easily, enjoying his strength and endurance and the vision that turned darkness to twilight. Too bad he could not share it with Maggie, but… nothing is perfect and the solitude had its own pleasure.
The frozen ground streamed beneath his feet. When something moved in his peripheral vision, he smiled. Not exactly solitude. Three coyotes had fallen in behind him, tongues lolling in predatory laughter.
“Hi, gang.”
He lengthened his stride. Far ahead, a herd of cattle lay dozing. With his shadow escort pacing him, he aimed for them. Nothing is perfect, so this was not bad. It was enough.
FB2 document info
Document ID: fbd-9e6f99-6d07-954b-4b9d-51e8-ca02-aa3d28
Document version: 1
Document creation date: 07.02.2012
Created using: calibre 0.8.37, Fiction Book Designer, FictionBook Editor Release 2.6 software
Document authors :
Lee Killough
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