Death Springs Eternal: The Rift Book III by Robert J. Duperre, Jesse David Young Read Free Book Online Page B

of the gathered ladies approached, and fear rose in Josh’s throat. The scene took on the atmosphere of a nightmare, the advancing horde of middle-aged women with practical haircuts becoming mythical beasts whose only purpose was to smother him with kindness until he breathed no more. Josh spun around and sprinted down the street away from them, allowing their cheers to melt away into nothingness.
    He ran and ran, but couldn’t escape the ghosts of his past. They hung out windows, harkening his arrival with squeals of approval. He spotted Mrs. Flannigan and the doomed seventh-graders, together again, waving at him from the playground beside St. Mary’s Cathedral. The woman’s grin stretched wide, revealing a set of much-too-large teeth. Josh thought they looked sharp as razors. He pushed his feet faster.
    His lungs burned and his leg muscles ached. He felt like he had the day everything fell apart, when he dashed through town in search of Sophia, his sister. He’d seen Mrs. Flannigan and the children then, and like Colin, he’d left them to die. This was their revenge, to come for him in his sleep and torment him until he withered away. With his body a mass of throbbing pain, a part of him was ready to give them that.
    He tore around the next bend in the road and came to an abrupt halt. Nothing was as it should’ve been, for instead of the industrial district, he suddenly found himself on Maple Street . A hundred feet away from him he saw a gleaming white colonial house, complete with the carved blue sign proclaiming BENOIT in white letters. The wind knocked out of him by both exhaustion and surprise, he bent over, grabbed his knees for support, and coughed.
    A figure approached him, and Josh shot up. It was his mother, traipsing across the grass, the sun behind her casting a shadow like reaching fingers. He backed away slowly, putting his arms up. The look on his mother’s face, the knowing half-smile and squinting eyes, reminded him of better, easier days. He hoped this vision didn’t mean him harm, like Mrs. Flannigan had. But his mother’s eyes held no malice, only adoration and concern. It froze him in place as he realized how much he’d started to forget her features after such a short time. His tears flowed hard and heavy.
    “Mom, I miss you,” he blurted out.
    Gail Benoit took his hands in hers and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek. “I know you do, Josh,” she said, her voice serious yet sensitive. “But enough of that. Supper’s ready. Why don’t you join us?”
    Josh didn’t reply, instead allowing his mother to pull him toward the house. His emotions, his entire soul , felt pliable, muddy.
    They entered the house and the pleasing sounds of playful discussion filled his ears. His mother led him into the dining room, where the oak dinner table — a staple in the Benoit home for as long as he could remember — was surrounded by people. Gail cleared her throat and the chatter stopped. All eyes turned to him.
    Josh felt his walls crumble as he stared at those in attendance. His father sat at the head of the table with Sophia beside him. Colin and Bobby sat opposite them, craned in their chairs so they could look at him. His Aunt Peggy and cousin Sean sat between them on one side, with James Conroy — the janitor, and Josh’s best work friend before the collapse of everything — on the other. Josh sniveled as he gawked at each of them, snot flowing over his quivering lips.
    Don, his father, stood up. He approached the empty chair beside Sophia and pulled it out, gesturing for him to sit. Josh just stood there, dumbfounded and unsure.
    “Honey,” said his mother, “go sit down.”
    As if on instinct, Josh did as he was told. All eyes were still on him as he maneuvered his way around the table on shaking legs. He lowered himself down and noticed that the cushions that his mother only brought out on special occasions had been placed on the chairs. The feather-filled pillow greeted his ass with a