The Border Lords by T. Jefferson Parker Read Free Book Online

could do it again right now. I know I could. I’d love to, hour after hour after hour! And the brightness of the pool water in my eyes? And the roar of tiny noises at night and the pain in my legs and neck and back? All just as Sean had experienced , she thought.
    She lengthened her stride and felt the strength in her legs and the amazing endurance that was now hers. She wasn’t even breathing that hard. She wondered if all of this shared sensory overload was some kind of sympathetic thing with Sean, like when a man feels his wife’s labor pains. Is there really such a thing? How can I feel what he feels? Am I just lonely and afraid? Am I just making all this up? Dr. Clements had taken her temperature and looked into her ears and nose and throat and pronounced flu. Rest, plenty of fluids. Would twenty-four hours of sex and a couple of gallons of sports drinks spiked with vodka count? And of course Sean wouldn’t see a doctor if he was well enough to walk through the office door. He had never been sick a day in his life. Until now.
    She continued north between the tracks. She remembered the dream she was having early this morning, at about the time that her husband was allegedly gunning down three young men for reasons unknown. In the dream she had been ravenously thirsty, but water was revolting to her and sports drinks and sodas and juices and beer were all sickening to her body and soul. But she found one thing that really hit the spot, and she had drunk so much blood out of Sean that he was white and blue-lipped. But he offered his neck so she could have more! What the hell has gotten into you, girl? Maybe time to cool it on the vampire books and movies and TV shows. Isn’t there enough trouble in your life without feeding your inner devils? But why were those bloody and ridiculous stories so . . . delicious? So compelling? A few short weeks ago she was dreaming of having babies. Wholesome dreams of beautiful daughters, beautiful sons. Hers and Sean’s. Soon , she had thought— it’s almost time for that part of our lives . When the undercover mission was finally accomplished they would be ready. Now this. Maybe the thirst for sex and the baby were part of the same larger desire, she thought. One led to the other.
    She was pouring sweat now and the sounds were condensing around her: the shuffle of the waves on the beach and the plane droning overhead and the resounding clash of the rocks under her shoes, and she heard the Coaster train coming up behind her while it was still miles away, long before the approach lights began flashing and the train sounded its deafening whistle.
    She glanced over her shoulder just once and stayed between the dully shining tracks, and she heard the warning blast again, much closer this time; then she heard it again. She heard the engineer screaming at her, or believed she did. Then she veered to her left and jumped down the embankment, leaping across the boulders toward the beach as the train howled past. She could feel the pull of its slipstream. The roar was almost unbearable to her. She hit the sand and sprinted to keep up with the Coaster, and for a moment it looked like she could stay even with it but the passenger windows began to outdistance her slowly, then quickly. She cut down near the water, laughing, and continued north.
     
     
    When she got home she wrote an e-mail letter to her husband. It didn’t have the rational, somber tone of her last one—the one suggested by Charlie and Janet. This one came straight from her heart. She told him of her passion, her loyalty, her love, her need of him. She pledged herself to him again, ’til death do us part , and she promised to find a way to help him on this strange and terrible thing he needed to do. If you needed to stop three professional killers, okay, Sean. It changes nothing in us. And if we have to manipulate ATF and Blowdown and our formerly true friend Charlie Hood, then so be it. I am yours and you are mine and