Aftersight by Brian Mercer Read Free Book Online Page A

known all my life, desperate to leave but reluctant to take that first step. No peace . Not even in sleep.
    I could feel it happening again as my body relaxed and my mind began to wander. It had started several months after Chris died and the insomnia had set in and it had been increasing in frequency until summer came, when it began happening every night. Now there was little, if anything, I could do to stop it. It was always most intense on nights like tonight, when I was physically exhausted but mentally awake and restless.
    A falling sensation gripped my insides and pulled. I seemed to sink into the mattress. That's the way it always started. Sometimes it was a quick jerk, as if the bed had suddenly disappeared, but most of the time it was this gradual, quicksand descent. I tried and failed to roll over, to thrash my arms, my legs, to scream. I was paralyzed in my own body and, as I did every night, I tried to stave off panic, to remain still, pretend nothing was happening.
    This is what it feels like to be buried alive.
    I'd researched it: Sleep paralysis. It was the mind's way of shutting down the body to prevent thrashing about and injuring itself while dreaming. It was a natural part of sleep and went unnoticed by all but a small percentage of the population, who woke up while their body was still immobile; or, like me, lost the ability to move before drifting off to sleep.
    Right on cue, I felt it, a presence, as if something ghostly had passed into the room with me. It was always the same, a creepy sense that the presence was rising from my own body and hovering just above the bed. Sometimes I thought I could just make it out, even through my closed eyes, a faint, milky mist floating there, washing me in a glow like moonlight.
    Usually I tried to relax, take deep breaths until sleep finally took over. But not tonight. Tonight I struggled against it. Despite my exhaustion, despite how easy it would be to surrender to it, I tensed every muscle, willing the sensations to stop. For a little while, maybe a minute, it backed off. There was no strange weightless feeling, no sense of rising; every part of me grew rigid.
    " She's fighting it. " It was a woman's voice, close by but muffled, as if someone was looking down on me invisibly from the ceiling.
    " She's still awake. " A man's voice now. " We should let her sleep. "
    " She won't remember this in the morning. " A second female voice. " We need to get her ready. "
    " No, we should come back." The first woman again.
    " Nonsense. Come, Anderlyn, come with us."
    This time I felt it, something vaporous within me lifting up and out of my body. I panicked when the electric surge drove through me, violent tremors that seemed to make the bed tilt and shudder. I couldn’t scream out loud, but the cry for help rang through my head and spread out to mix with the vibrations. I heard a tearing sound, like adhesive tape being separated from a roll. It started at my forehead and ripped down to my feet as my spirit peeled away from whatever I'd left behind in the bed.
    What the—?
    When I ascended through the blackness, my vision, then my consciousness began to blur. The last thing I remember was the sound of my own voice — a male voice? — speaking to my unseen companions.
    " Come on. We have work to do."

Chapter Five

    Cali
    Sacramento, California
    September 22

    "It's not that complicated, really. We get on Interstate-5 and go north, up through Oregon and into Washington." Derrick traced the route on the map with his finger. "It's a straight shot to Tacoma. Eleven maybe twelve hours, depending on traffic and food and gas stops. We stay at my buddy Hollis's place long enough to sell the car, then he takes us over the border to Vancouver. My cousin says he'll let us stay in his spare room until we get on our feet. We can work at my uncle's restaurant. It won't be much, but he'll pay us under the table, so what we earn we keep." He nudged me with his elbow, adding in