The Razor's Edge: A Postapocalytic Novel (The New World Book 6) by G. Michael Hopf Read Free Book Online Page A

celebrate,” she said removing his coat.
    “Christmas,” he said.
    “And you, we’re also celebrating you. It’s been five months since you were brought here and look at you now,” she said, placing his coat on a chair. She felt something wet on her fingers and looked down to find blood. “Hector, are you hurt?”
    He spun around to see her staring at her hand; he thought quickly and answered, “Cut hand.”
    “Let me see,” she said walking up to him.
    “No." He recoiled.
    “I’m a doctor, I can fix it.” Someone laughed from the table.
    “Bathroom,” Pablo said and hurried away. He closed the door to the powder room and examined his hands and clothes for any signs of blood. Nothing. He opened the medicine cabinet behind the mirror, found a bandage and put one on his hand. With a deep exhale he looked up and caught his reflection in the mirror. He turned away quickly but stopped; forcing himself, he turned and faced the mirror again. He stared at the thick burn scars; it was as if his skin had melted on one side, even his hair hadn’t fully returned, just patches. He leaned closer until he could see the slight imperfections in his irises. Tonight had brought back memories and had given him a thrill he hadn’t experienced for a while. He was good at torturing people; hell, he was good at murdering and butchering too. It came naturally to him.
    A tap at the door tore him away from the trance he was in. “Hector, you okay?” Annaliese asked.
    “Hector? Pablo? Who are you?” he whispered under his breath as he still glared at his reflection. He had been Hector for months now and he liked him, it seemed everyone liked him, but Hector lacked something. Pablo was the opposite, he wasn’t liked; in fact, he was hated, but all feared him and all respected him. Which will it be? he thought.
    Another tap.
    “Coming,” he said.
    He again looked in the mirror but turned his eyes to the corner of the room and jumped. “What are you doing here?”
    Another tap. “Are you coming?” Annaliese asked.
    “How are you here?” Pablo asked out loud to the corner of the room. “I buried you.”
    Another tap, louder.
    “Go away,” Pablo said. He turned and opened the door to see Annaliese standing there.
    “You’re worrying me,” she said.
    “Cut,” he said holding up his bandaged hand.
    She pushed the door open wider and looked inside. “I swear I heard you talking to someone.”
    “Myself,” Pablo replied.
    “C’mon, everyone is waiting,” she said.
    “Anna,” he said.
    “Yes.”
    A strong temptation hit him. He wanted to ask her to call him Pablo, but when he opened his mouth nothing came out.
    “Go ahead,” Annaliese said and placed her hand on his arm.
    Her gentle touch swept away the desire. Does it really matter? he thought. She liked the name Hector, and it was really the name she knew him by. She didn’t know Pablo, nor did he want her to see him. In many ways he wanted to keep that side of him secret from her for fear she’d reject him.
    “C’mon, let’s go celebrate,” she insisted and pushed him along.
    He put his thoughts away for the moment and walked back to the dining room.

DECEMBER 26, 2015

    “Believe that life is worth living and your belief will help create the fact.” – William James West of Joseph, Oregon, Republic of Cascadia
    Lexi bent over and picked up several more sticks of kindling and placed them on top of the small stack she cradled in her right arm.
    A gray squirrel bolted from a grove of laurel and dashed in front of Lexi. Right on its heels, Beau, her blue-haired pit bull terrier, chased after it.
    Lexi laughed.
    The squirrel jumped on a pine tree and scurried up.
    Beau reached the tree. He placed his front legs on the trunk and barked at the squirrel, which had stopped at a large branch and chirped back.
    The pursuit was over, but Beau wasn’t about to let the squirrel go without letting him know how he felt as he barked several more times.
    Lexi walked