Innocent Blood by Graham Masterton Read Free Book Online Page A

lost. In fact I know exactly where I’m going and I really don’t need anybody to help me. Particularly you.’
    â€˜You’re misunderstanding my meaning. When I say “lost,” I don’t mean geographically lost. I mean lost in the sense that you don’t know what the hell you’re going to do next.’
    Frank stopped, reached into his shirt pocket and gave the old man a ten-dollar bill. The old man took it and flapped it from side to side. ‘What’s this for?’
    â€˜Philosophical services rendered. Now will you push off and leave me alone?’
    The old man pulled his mouth down in an exaggerated expression of dismay. ‘I’m not a panhandler, if that’s what you’re thinking. I can tell when people need guidance, that’s all. I can see when they’ve reached an impasse.’
    â€˜Well, that’s a very great gift. Now, if you’ll just . . .’ He made a toddling gesture with his fingers.
    The old man stayed where he was, so Frank carried on walking toward the pier. He had only gone a few paces, however, when the old man called out, ‘It wasn’t your fault, Frank!’
    Frank felt a fizzing sensation in his scalp, as if he had touched a bare electric wire. He turned around and stared at the old man. ‘ What ?’
    â€˜You heard me. It wasn’t your fault.’
    â€˜How do you know my name?’ Frank demanded, walking back to him.
    â€˜That’s a gift, too. See that girl on the roller-skates there? Her name’s Helena. Go ask her if you don’t believe me. See that fellow with the dog? Guy.’
    â€˜This is a scam. Get the hell out of here before I call a cop.’
    â€˜No scam, Frank. It wasn’t your fault, and that’s the top and bottom of it. What you have to do now is forgive yourself, and move on.’
    â€˜So why should you care?’
    The old man took out a filthy crumpled handkerchief and blew his nose. ‘I care because I care because I care. What’s the point of having a God-granted gift if you never share it with anyone?’
    â€˜All right, you know my name, or else you’ve guessed it, or you’ve seen me on TV. What does that prove?’
    â€˜I know more than your name, Frank. I know what’s going to happen to you. I know the reason you’re here, even if you don’t. You’ll cross the road and you’ll never come back.’
    Frank waited for the old man to explain what he meant, but he simply stood there smiling at him with his four brown teeth and a look in his one good eye that was almost triumphant. After more than a minute, Frank turned, hesitated, and then he walked away. The old man continued to smile at him until he disappeared amongst the crowds.
    Frank leaned on the pier railing and closed his eyes and let the ocean breeze blow into his face. He could hear slowly moving traffic and the slurr-chunk! of skateboards and people talking and laughing. He could hear the Pacific, and the monotonous clanking of yachts. He could hear the gulls.
    Inside his head, soundlessly, The Cedars was still blowing up, black smoke growing up into the air like fir trees, bits of metal and bits of brick falling all around him. And Danny’s blood-streaked arm, waggling from side to side as he ran along the street, silently screaming for help.
    You’ll cross the road and you’ll never come back.
    â€˜Hey!’ said a woman’s voice, very close to him.
    He opened his eyes and blinked. A young woman was leaning against the rail just two or three feet away, although the ocean was sparkling so brightly behind her that he could see little more than a silhouette. The silhouette wore a wide-brimmed straw hat and a sleeveless white cotton dress.
    â€˜I’m afraid I don’t know your name,’ she told him.
    He thought, that makes a change. Everybody else around here seems to know it.
    â€˜Don’t you remember me?’ she