The Book of M by Peng Shepherd Read Free Book Online Page A

film lightly, peeking every few seconds to see if it had finished. By the time he found her again and she pressed another flute of Dom Pérignon into his hands and whispered in his ear, breath hot, her voice light with a hint of buzz, “You are not going to believe what Imanuel just told me about the second groomsman,” she’d forgotten he’d taken a picture of her at all.
    Ory slid the photo back in and put his driver’s license securely on top of it. Even though she was all done up, hair pulled into a messy bun and makeup on, Max still looked almost the same, and it would do for showing people he passed, if he ever passed anyone, to ask if they’d seen a woman who looked like this. Assuming they could remember how to speak, or anything they’d seen at all.
    Back in the main room, the paper that had been taped to the inside of their door since the beginning caught his eye again. There was one rule he and Max had made, long before she’d lost her shadow and they had made the rest of them. Rule Zero, they had started calling it after they’d written the list. He pulled it down and crumpled it into a withered ball. There was no way Max could not have seen it when she left. What did that mean? How much had she forgotten?
    They’d made Rule Zero when they became the only ones left at the hotel. For months there had been no electricity, no running water, then no radio. Then finally there were no other guests. They couldn’t avoid the conversation about it any longer.
    â€œIt’s not fair,” Max had said. “If it was me that went missing, you’d come after me.”
    â€œNo, I wouldn’t,” Ory replied. It didn’t even sound believable to him.
    â€œYes, you would,” Max argued. “Besides, it’s different. You go out all day, and I stay here most of the time. If I disappeared, it would be because I lost my shadow and forgot to stay, so of course you shouldn’t follow then!”
    â€œDon’t—” He grimaced. It felt like tempting fate to ever mention the possibility it could happen to either of them.
    â€œI only meant, if you were the one who didn’t come home, it would probably be because you were injured somewhere and needed my help.”
    â€œI’ll make sure to get killed, then, so there’s nothing to come help.”
    â€œOry,” Max said, her voice horribly small.
    The silence settled between them, heavy. “Sorry,” he finally murmured.
    They looked down at dinner—one plastic bag of potato chips. What he’d found the last time he’d gone out.
    â€œI just can’t,” Max said. “It would be one thing if one of us forgot. But if you go missing while you’re out looking for food, I’m going to go to where you said you went and try to find you.”
    â€œThat’s not the deal,” Ory said.
    â€œThat’s as good as you’re going to get,” she shot back. “I’ll give you that if one of us forgets, the other doesn’t go after. I can’t do any more than that. Okay?”
    â€œOkay,” Ory finally said. He used paper from the abandoned guest book—wrote the rule in silence and hung it up. You never go after the other person if they forget . They didn’t speak for the rest of the evening.
    It was the best they could do, but it wasn’t enough. Over the next few weeks, Ory stopped telling Max where he went to scavenge for scraps each day, or if she refused to let him out the door without an answer, lied so blatantly she knew it was so. Eventually she stopped asking, because she knew what he was doing.
    Later that night, after they’d made Rule Zero, Ory used a tiny bit of the precious soap they had left. The shelter had contained boxes and boxes of surplus inventory, back when it was Elk Cliffs Resort, and in the early days they’d squandered it. Bathing whenever they liked, washing their hair at least once a