Last Rite by Lisa Desrochers Read Free Book Online Page B

a little. My gaze gravitates to the door, knowing who’s on the other side of it. I find myself on my feet and walking toward it without even realizing it. But, just as my fingers brush the doorknob, I stop. I can’t keep relying on Gabe. I have to figure this out on my own.
    Forcing myself away from the door, I turn to my open window and lean my palms against the sill. The sound of the breaking waves is soothing, and my heart starts to slow to a normal pace. I sit on the sill and lean back on the frame. For a long time, I focus on breathing in the fresh air, clearing out the darkness inside me. Closing my eyes, I sync my breathing with the rolling surf.
    When I finally feel calmer, I glance over my shoulder at the door, then slip my legs over the sill and drop into the soft sand under my window. It feels warm as I curl my toes into it, and I feel lighter just being outside the house—my prison. I wander to the water and the surf laps lazily at my ankles. I look up and down the beach and find I’m totally alone. It’s a deep crimson sunrise and the air is heavy with the scents of the ocean—that combination of salt, fish, and something sweet but rank. I walk deeper into the warm water and it’s soothing, washing away all my pain, fear, guilt.
    I let the waves lift me and I float on my back, staring up at the swirling scarlets and grays of the oncoming day. The swell of the waves lifts and lowers me gently, cradling and rocking me like a baby. I close my eyes and drift, finally at peace.
    But, slowly, I realize that the salty smell has taken on a metallic tinge, coppery and sharp. When another swell lifts me and I move my arms to steady myself, the water feels thick. I open my eyes and look up at the bloodred sky. Panic tickles at my insides when I try to stand and I find I’ve drifted so far out that I can’t touch the bottom.
    I tread water and look wildly for the shore, but it’s nowhere. I’m surrounded by nothing but red ocean and red sky, blending together and making it impossible to find the horizon. Panic kicks harder in my chest as I become disoriented. A wave of dizziness sweeps over me, threatening to take me under, and I gasp for breath. My limbs begin to feel heavy and tired. I know I can’t stay afloat much longer, but I don’t know which way to swim. What if I choose wrong?
    Something bumps into me from behind, startling me, and I spin in the water.
    A scream freezes in my throat. For an endless second, all I can do is stare in horror.
    Taylor is floating in the bloody waves, a fountain of red pouring from a gash in her stomach. Her breath comes in sputtering rasps, and more blood flows from her mouth with each gasp.
    “Oh God.” I grab her arm and pull her to me, trying to keep her above the waves. And that’s when I realize that the water isn’t just tinged with blood. It is blood—thick, sticky, and coppery. Taylor and I are floating in an ocean of blood. Taylor’s blood. Taylor’s blood is on my hands, and there’s no way I can save her.
    I open my mouth to scream, but before I can, something pulls me down. Under the bloody waves, all I can hear is the hammer of my wild pulse in my ears. A dark shape takes form in my consciousness—red eyes in a black face. I fight against it—fight for Taylor. But when I taste salt in my mouth, I know this is what I deserve. I’m drowning in Taylor’s blood.
    I give in and let the thick liquid seep down my throat. But just before I black out, whatever was holding me is suddenly gone and I’m rocketing toward the surface. I feel Gabe’s peace and love, his summer snow.
    Then … there’s nothing.

4
     
    Morning Star
    FRANNIE
     
    My eyes open to pitch black.
    Absolute darkness.
    A tiny point of white light forms above me, and I focus on it as I cough and struggle to breath. It grows increasingly larger and brighter.
    A star .
    One singular star in the black velvet sky.
    As it illuminates my surroundings, I realize I’m still on the beach. I feel